Courage

Lately, this column has touched on understanding, thankfulness and faith, which like all virtues are included in the chief virtue: courage. One of the most courageous persons I have ever known was my Italian grandmother, whom we called Nona. Transitioning from her native tongue to English was difficult, and there were certain words she never pronounced properly. One was “try”; her pronunciation was “tly.” And tly she would. The noble lady was fearless in the face of adversity. Even toward the end of her long life, when she had shrunk in stature to a few inches over four feet, and had lost her beloved husband Pete, she insisted on living alone and caring for herself. Trying to talk her out of doing something she had set her mind to was futile. Always, she said the same thing: “I tly.”

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Every day, she was up before daylight, doing what she loved most — cooking. When she could no longer reach high enough to stir pots of her delicious dishes, she built a set of steps and placed them before the stove. Like all Italians, she loved to eat, but what she loved most was feeding her loved ones. Almost daily, she drove ten miles along a country road to church. When neighbors worried she might not make it and offered to take her, she always said, “I tly.” With pillows beneath her and the seat forward as far as it would go, she crept along, rarely exceeding twenty miles per hour. Everyone recognized her car, pulled out of the way to let it pass, and waved at the driver. Relatives living near where her route to church crossed a highway waited for her. When no cars were sighted, they waved her across. At such an early hour, she was usually alone in the Lord’s House, as she knelt and prayed before the altar. One morning, a man came up behind her and demanded that she hand over her purse. This woman, this epitome of courage, never even got off her knees. She glared up at him and said, “You kneel; you tly asking God for help, then you no rob.” She resumed praying; the man walked out. She spent weeks before each Christmas preparing feasts gourmets to die for: all sorts of candies, pies, cakes, and pastas. At the head of the table, where her late husband sat, she placed her favorite portrait of Jesus Christ, and would say, “Pete with Him now.” For her, Jesus was not only Savior and Lord, but also the embodiment all that God’s children should strive to be. She went to Him for understanding; her attitude toward Him was one of constant thankfulness; to Him she devoted boundless love. Her faith was as unfaltering as His, when beaten, torn, bleeding, despised and struggling with the weight of a huge cross, He trudged up the hill known as Calvary. Nona shared with Him the virtue that is the greatest of all, because it is all virtue: courage.