[Ohio-Communities-of-Faith] FW: Invisible Woman

Wed May 5 12:50:47 UTC 2021

From: Larry Perry [mailto:larryperry at performancepress.ccsend.com] On Behalf Of Larry Perry
Sent: Wednesday, May 5, 2021 8:11 AM
To: mmoore11 at kent.edu
Subject: EXT: Invisible Woman

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Letter from Larry

Wednesday

May 5, 2021

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Good Wednesday Morning Everyone:

Next Sunday, May 9, is Mother's day...a day each year that we honor

our mothers. This week the stories will be about Mothers. Can you 

mothers relate to them? I hope you think about these stories this 

week.

                  INVISIBLE WOMAN 

It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son to

school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street

when the crossing guard said to him, "Who is that with you, young  

fella?"

"Nobody," he shrugged. Nobody? The crossing guard and I laughed. 

 My son is only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, "Oh my 

goodness, nobody?"

I would walk into a room and no one would notice. I would say

something to my family - like "Turn the TV down, please" - and 

nothing would happen. Nobody would get up, or even make a

move for the remote. I would stand there for a minute, and then

I would say again, a little louder, "Would someone turn the TV  

down?" 

Nothing.

Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We'd 

been there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I 

noticed he was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, 

and when there was a break in the conversation, I whispered,

"I'm ready to go when you are." He just kept right on talking. 

I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,

the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the

phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't 

you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm  

on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing 

on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible. 

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this?

Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of

hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is 

it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney 

Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." 

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the

eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum

laude, but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to

be seen again.

She's going¸ she's going¸ she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return

of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a

fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she

stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put

together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for

myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only

thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in

a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter

in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with

a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." 

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly

sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To 

Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are

building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would

discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after

which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record 

of their names.

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never

see finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the

eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit

the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving

a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the

man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a 

beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And 

the workman replied, " Because God sees it!" 

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was

almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte.  

I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around

you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn

on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile 

over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now 

what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a

disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of

my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn

pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder.

As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see

finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The

writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could

ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people

willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend

he's bringing home from college for a weekend, "My mom gets up at 

4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand

bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the 

table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself.  

I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything 

more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there." 

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if

we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the

world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty

that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible

women.

~~Author Unknown  

****

May God Bless You and yours, and God please bless all

of the Mothers in t\he World.

Larry

‌

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