My Sister is a member of his congregation in Boston, on a day when she was having a difficult time managing the difficulty of being a young mother of 5 while in a chapel during worship services (this happened within the last year or two) in the process of things there was a spill of things of hers into the aisle way. She shot down to the ground to try and gather up all the things now cluttering the aisle way. Of all the members of the congregation who could have stepped over to lean down and help recover the diaspora it was “Brother Christensen” who came over and, despite being in a body ravaged by age and all he’d been through, using support for mere walking. There he was putting in the genuine walk, leaning over repeatedly to help gather things for my likely frazzled and overwhelmed sister.
My sister was vaguely aware that he’d achieved some notoriety. When I went on to speak of the world wide reverberations of his work, it seemed to pale for me to the history my sister had related to me just prior of what this kind, old ‘disabled’ man had done for my sister. An act which virtually anyone else in his position would be excused for presuming that someone else could handle this ‘little’ need.
Thanks Bro Christensen for producing the rebar, the greatly undervalued acts that keep our society actually functional and bearable.
My sister was vaguely aware that he’d achieved some notoriety. When I went on to speak of the world wide reverberations of his work, it seemed to pale for me to the history my sister had related to me just prior of what this kind, old ‘disabled’ man had done for my sister. An act which virtually anyone else in his position would be excused for presuming that someone else could handle this ‘little’ need.
Thanks Bro Christensen for producing the rebar, the greatly undervalued acts that keep our society actually functional and bearable.