My mother, the late Mrs. Eva F. Crain (1922-1989), wrote this article in the summer of 1975.
My mother, the late Eva F. Crain, is pictured above as she performed her work at Roger Huntington Nursing Home (now closed), Greer, South Carolina. She worked there 20 years after becoming a practical nurse in her 40s.
Being in the middle of my “middle years” and being saved during my young years of life, I am made to think about and appreciate the “Reminders” of God that He gives to us during our years.
I am reminded so much of several things I heard my late father speak about. He said, to him, it was better to live a Christian life, even if there wasn’t a Heaven to gain. Another statement that really sticks with me that I heard him say was “We get so busy working for the Lord until we forget to work ‘WITH’ Him,” and how true I am finding this.
I have never understood exactly why I had to go through a serious stomach surgery at the age of 40, but after I had the privilege to enter Practical Nursing at age 45, I could understand better, for maybe without the surgery, I would never have had the compassion for a sick person that I should, or maybe for the elderly people that I work with now.
I have always been a believer in the supernatural power of our Lord Jesus Christ, and I knew if I didn’t receive the benefits, it was my fault and not God’s. I love the Scripture that says He will do exceedingly, abundantly above all we could ask or think, and then I don’t want to ever forget to praise Him for the good things.
Not long ago, I was reminded again of the wonderful keeping power of God. My aunt had called one morning in May to see if I wanted to go to a cloth shop for a little while, and I was willing — but I decided while I was waiting I would boil some eggs to be ready when I returned to make some lunch in a hurry. So I started the eggs boiling on “high.” Always before, when I leave the kitchen, I look back to see if all the burners are off on the stove. That morning when my aunt drove up in front of the house and blew the horn, I grabbed my pocket book, locked the door, and never one time looked back.
We had finished our errands at the cloth shop, stopped to visit my husband’s mother nearby, and she wanted to fix us a sandwich for lunch, choosing between banana and egg. My aunt said, “I believe I’ll have a banana one for I had my egg at breakfast.” When she said “egg,” I remembered turning the eggs on “high” to boil and never going back to cut the burner off. I told her what I have remembered, so we were then eight miles from home. We hurried out, and she is not a fast driver, so we had eight miles to go, and she said after we started, “Let’s just pray,” so you can rest assured we did.
When I arrived there and got the door unlocked, the house was filled with smoke, and there was a flame over the burner of about four or five inches high. I pushed the “off” button and grabbed a box of salt and poured some over the flame, which smothered the flame. But months later, at times, we can still smell the odor of charcoaled eggs. The eggs were almost burned completely “up” and the pan was not glued to the burner but had holes in the bottom, and another miracle was that when I pulled the tray from under the burner, there was something almost like a dust. You talk about praising God as I was carrying what was left of the pan and eggs, my heart was really doing that and rejoicing. Thank God for reminding me that the burner was still on under the eggs after being gone for around one hour and a half.
Then in the first part of July of the same year of 1975, my husband was on vacation, so my supervisor arranged some time from my working at the nursing center to have a few days with him. We decided to visit Pigeon Forge in Tennessee, and my husband does not like to drive on long trips, so my brother-in-law marked him a route on the map that he thought he could follow. But with all these different highways, he was a little dubious about it. All the time, we thought we were doing fairly well, when we realized instead of being on Route 40 West, we had taken 40 East, so I could see he was getting pretty uptight by now and very frustrated. I thank God for reminding me that if we call on Him, He will hear. In my heart, I was praying, “God, help us to get on the right highway” — when my husband decided to turn off the exit to the left. Going just a short way, there was a “Transportation Information Center,” and the lady showed him how to go back just a little ways and we were on the right road. Thank God for His reminders.
