My Sister, Bessie Dodds Wilson
missionary, wife, mother, matriarch
by Everett Wilson
October 4, 2010
I have already acknowledged that I am the fifth of six sons, We grew up sisterless until my oldest brother married in 1947, when I was eleven. We suddenly had a sister, and she suddenly had a husband and five new little brothers ranging in age from four to 19. By the time the youngest brother was married, we had as many sisters as we had brothers, and twenty-one children among us.
We cohered. Part of the cohesion, I think, is that we hoped our sisters-in-law would treat us like brothers, which they did, and we wanted to treat them like sisters because they were the only sisters we had. They graciously accepted that. Never once did they make me feel like Somebody they had to Put Up With. I was somebody to be treated like family, and so were they. We loved them and they had the grace to love us.
I am singling out one of them now, because she died on September 18 and is much on my mind. We all have our stories to tell, but she can no longer tell her own.
She was the second to join the family, fifty-eight years ago, but she was the oldest in the generation succeeding our parents: thirty-three when she married, ninety-one when she died. When she joined us she was a professional missionary, a skilled communicator, a school administrator. She knew God, and she knew who she was.
Sixty years ago she was a Canadian missionary working in
To her initial dismay, he found her. Then the finding became mutual, and she said yes to his proposal. The life she got was not what she had expected from God, but what she accepted from him—which is more on the mark anyway.
They married in
After Jim completed the service obligation of an
About the Author:
Everett Wilson's novel, Real Things, is now available from Amazon as a paperback and from Amazon Kindle to be read on a Kindle Reader, computer, or other device.
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