I love these reflections. In case you’re unaware, Hugh Harris is my Dad. My Grandmother, Mary Harfis, was a beautiful influence on so many and served with an open and devoted heart. I want my life to reflect God’s love like that.
Paul Robert Harris, 1943-1989
Remembering my mother, Mary Ellen Townsend Harris, 1911-2016
Among things I came across while cleaning out Mom’s room at the Bridgewater Retirement Community assisted living facility was a journal. It is filled with scripture passages, excerpts from various inspirational sources, and occasionally her own reflections. Inside the cover she acknowledged that my wife, Sharon and I had given the journal book to her. She titled it, “Reflections.”
When I opened the first page a photograph of my late brother, Paul (shown above), jumped off the page at me. It shows him at age eight, on the front porch of the old tenant house my dad had purchased in a rural Shenandoah Valley community called Keezletown. We moved there from Cincinnati in June, 1951. The photo shows Paul sitting on the front porch in the chair my dad had built for him, .
Paul was born with…
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