Hobie Morris

The Musings of a Simple Country Man

Morris head newBy Hobie Morris

 

Praises disappear like fog; written words live forever.

–Seneca

 

The once popular poet Edgar Guest wrote a catchy poem on friendship. It reads like this:

 

Be a friend.  You don’t need money.  Just a disposition sunny; just

the wish to help another get along some way or other.

Just a kindly hand extended to one who’s unbefriended…

Be a friend.  You don’t need glory.  Friendship is a simple story.

 

(Brookfield, NY – April 2015) Brookfield’s legendary Kate Whitaker’s recent passing leaves behind a deeply grieving community and an amazing legacy of Christian love.  A tiny wisp of a white haired woman whose friendship touched a huge number of people with her compassion, genuine kindness and pure love.   My beautiful wife Lois and I loved Kate and her late husband Ken.  Throughout her life Kate gave her whole being to others, never once accepting the idea she was in any way unique.  But to legions she was unique, like the fabled Mother Teresa, Kate was the epitome of modesty and unselfishness, always thinking of others first.

Kate and her family lived in an old farm house on a dirt road, several bumpy miles from Brookfield.  That house is well loved and always profusely garnished with countless beautiful flowers that Kate religiously tended.  Kate especially loved flowers and gardening.  At this location the Whitakers knew many good times  and plenty of hard and struggling ones.

In recent years a wide variety of physical problems, including Ken’s massive stroke and Kate’s near death experience from rolling firewood logs, sorely tested their resolve.  Ken’s passing in 2014 was a crushing blow for Kate and her family, but she somehow persevered and pressed on.  During these recent years she was often in very severe pain and burdened with endless concerns that would have defeated a person of less strength and character.  Despite all these travails this diminutive lady was one of the most compassionate and giving people we have ever met.  She possessed an inner and outer beauty that brightly illuminated her entire being.  Her beautiful smile and hugs reflecting a genuine concern for others that was legendary in this rural community.

The Germans have  a wonderful saying that “the fingers of a housewife do more than a yoke of oxen.”  Indeed Kate’s hands never rested, whether it was mixing, baking, preparing meals, cooking, slicing, kneading, cleaning, canning and freezing hundreds if not thousands of containers of garden fruits and vegetables.  Nothing made her happier than going down into the dirt floor basement and lugging up a big cardboard box full of glass jars containing the fruits of her herculean kitchen efforts.

Whenever Kate heard of a community benefit for some needy family or individual, she immediately set in motion her own amazing contribution.  Over the years she baked hundreds, if not thousands, of pies, cookies, etc. that usually garnered huge bids because people appreciated her incredible effort and help.  In doing so she would always say “that wasn’t anything.”  Just a few days after nearly being killed by those rolling logs she was happily baking up a storm for still another benefit, and she did this with her contagious smile and a happiness to help that made her so unique.

Regardless of how hard she was working she always met visitors at the door, with a hug and an invitation to come in, sit and visit.  “Would you like some coffee?” she always asked—before you had time to sit.  Her generosity and hospitality were powerful magnets.  Most every day, from sunrise to sunset, and sometimes later, people were driving down the hill and pulling into their driveway.  People flocked to this unassuming farm house like bees to a beautiful flower garden.  The magnet was, of course, Kate and the greatest gift she gave to all, which was love.   She had a unique gift to make people happier and the world far better.  And all this from a lady under 5 feet tall, who never had a driver’s license, and only rarely left the confines of this old house.  Yet she epitomized a Christian persona that would cause many seminarians to recalculate their training.

The above few words are inadequate to fully describe Kate’s importance and influence in this community and beyond.  She loved and was loved with a child’s innocence and purity that my lovely wife and I found so extraordinary in this all too callous and selfish day and age.  We are absolutely convinced that glorious reunions have already occurred for Brookfield’s Mother Teresa, including that with the amazing icon she so much unknowingly replicated here in the Brookfield hills.  Kate’s new life is indeed heavenly.  We can clearly envision her sparkling eyes, radiant smile and those unforgettable hugs of greeting that will continue endlessly in her new home.

Hobie Morris is a Brookfield resident and simple country man. 

 

By martha

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