Molly

As I sit here tonight preparing to create a daily blog for the first day of the week, my mind drifts back to a person and event from just over five years ago.
The date was January 12, 2010.
The place was the island of Hispaniola; comprised of the countries of the Dominican Republic and Haiti.
The person was a young lady by the name of Molly Mackenzie Hightower.
I never knew Molly, but she was a distant cousin of mine. She had recently graduated with a double major, spoke French, and volunteered as a physical therapist in a Catholic disabled children’s orphanage in Haiti.
Although I never knew Molly, the world has been given some entre into her life as the result of an internet blog she maintained. I have also been privileged to interact with her uncle, a Catholic priest, and her father and brother. The photos of my dear cousin and those precious orphans are compelling. She was one of those people you meet a few times in a lifetime; who literally seem to shine from within. Even in the photographs an ethereal glow lights up her face.
Molly happened to be in her dormitory when the earthquake did its worst work on that impoverished island. While her family and friends hoped against hope that she would be rescued, it was not to be. She was found several days later midst the rubble of the dormitory. It can be said that she gave the last full measure of devotion for the children whom she had grown to love.
Sometimes we find ourselves taking people like Molly for granted. They sense a “call” to a work overseas which 99.9 percent of people would shun; in favor of some well-paying professional position in the states. They toil for little or no pay. They work long hours; often without praise or affirmation. On their occasional sabbaticals home, they attempt to explain to anyone who might listen what they have done, what they have seen; their triumphs and their defeats. And more often, than not they are met with a smile, or a nod, or a quizzical look; rather than a few empathetic words based on any real understanding of the work and their challenge the mission.
I would have loved to have been granted a few brief moments with my cousin, Molly.
Time to assure her of the importance of her work, time to commensurate with her about the joy which distills from the opportunity to touch lives, time to talk about our mutual ancestors, and the possibility that they, too, were at one time given the privilege of impacting this or that person, whom God set in their pathway.
As strange as it may seem, I miss Molly; a dear relative whom I never had the privilege of meeting. And yet, I feel I know her. And I’m all too aware that the staff and patients of her beloved orphanage miss her in such an inestimable and profound way.
I think we will never understand why such lights among us are seemingly taken before their time; when they are in the midst of accomplishing such a life-changing work, or rather, lives-changing work, since this dear saint, and so many like her have impacted a myriad of the unfortunate and underprivileged; whose only recompense for services rendered was a bright smile, a hug or a few unaided steps.
They look very much like you or I, and shun the limelight. Yet I think these are the saints among us; (though any allusion to sainthood would, no doubt, be greeted by them with revelry and blushing).
People like Molly, though their lives were shortened, and though they have so often done their best work in the worst places this planet affords, managed to cut some indelible marks into the fabric of life and time.
And their love and works remain.
And they are not forgotten.
And the power and momentum of all they ever did, and hoped to do continues, and has not abated.
For lives were irrevocably touched
…and changed.
And there are those among us who have, because of them, stepped forward to fill the vacant space which they have left behind.
The world is better for people like Molly, who having walked and moved and served among us
…remain as unseen witnesses to a continuing need, and the power of one life to change the world as we know it;
…at least the world as they knew it.


 By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 25. Copyright pending

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