It's a Work of Mercy, Dad.

We started a tradition about 10 years ago that our children will simply not let us break. On Beggar's Night we dress up the kids and sometimes even the adults in our family and head to a nearby nursing home for a climate-controlled evening of thrills and chills. Aside from the fact that there are copious amounts of candy, the night is a great chance for our kids to bring some joy to the residents, and to have a ton of repetition when they practice saying "Thank You" while looking in someone's eyes.

About 6 years ago, we decided to step up our relationship with the Care Center and make it a weekly thing to go and let the girls play their instruments or sing for the "Memory Lane" hour. This served a few purposes: 1) The girls had more motivation to practice their instruments because they were going to be playing in public. 2) Because aside from "going to church", I knew that we needed something in our lives that was a regular, on-the-calendar, thing, that would teach my children what it means to live as a Christian: to live for others.

Sometimes the concerts were absolutely wonderful. Sometimes, however, they were an exercise in restraint and pain. It's tough raising kids in front of people and it wasn't always easy to get the girls to offer their talents freely.

As the girls got older and our lives got busier, we have gone down to 1 hour visit per month. The nurses and aides line up the wheelchairs, and we come in with our guitar or ukelele, a few violins, and we play their piano. The girls pretty much put together the whole concert now, and I just watch (and chase David who is busy winning over the ladies). We try hard to learn the names of the ones who come, and our hearts have been saddened when we find that one has died since we were there last.

When the month of October rolled around this year, the girls were all busy trying to figure out what they would do for Halloween at the nursing home. My husband was giving my girls some guff about dressing up this year. "Aren't you a little old for that?" he wondered aloud.  "Dad," our oldest responded, matter-of-factly, "It's a work of mercy. When we dress up it makes them happy."

"Fine," replied my husband with a smirk, "Dress up. But you don't need to take any candy."

Then my 13 year old piped in, "And break their hearts?"

Visiting our friend Karen who always has some good candy for us

Matt relented and the girls dressed up as super heros (David was Clark Kent dressed as an alligator). When we walked into Beggar's Night, one of the nurses said, "Look, it's our most faithful family." I could see the girls' eyes beaming. I pray this lesson goes with them their whole lives. Whether it's with violins, guitars, or super-hero capes, anyone can visit the lonely and perform a beautiful work of mercy.