Malc's sister Milly
My sister Milly (real name Maureen) was eight years older than me, and the third oldest in a family of six children. I have no idea where the name Milly came from - it was just how I knew her as I grew up.
Although there were six of us, there was never a time when we all lived at home at the same time, because of the age differences between us.
But there was a time I remember fondly - when I was 'kid brother' to Milly. I suppose Milly was my 'big Sis' from when I was aged about 8 or 9 right up until I was about 14 or 15. My older brother Gordon was at home at that time but he was never in, and never really had much time for me when he was. But Milly - she was there for me during those formative years and she looked after me.
Our dad was an austere man. A very strict man really. I think he found it hard to show his love to us kids. But he certainly knew discipline and he knew how to keep us in order. He was a real 'stickler' about us kids eating everything that was put in front of us at mealtimes (most likely as a result of the tough times his generation went through before and during the war) and I remember many a time sitting at the dinner table literally 'gagging' as I tried to eat the cabbage that was on my plate.
Now, Milly hated cabbage too, but when the 'old man' wasn't looking she would take it from my plate and eat it for me. Eventually, I could leave the table because I had 'eaten' all my dinner. Bless her - talk about selflessness.
Milly taught me so much. She taught me how to cook, how to bake cakes, how to sew and how to knit. I confess I have not made too much use of the knitting skills but I have certainly made use of all the other skills she gave me.
When I was due to go up to the senior school we were expected to bring football boots with us to school. My mum went out and took Milly and they came back with a pair of boots for me. When I saw them I burst into tears. We were just at that stage I guess when the old toe-capped football boots were going out of fashion and the new sleek boots were coming in. And these were the old toe-capped boots.
Milly knew how much it meant to me and she took them back to the shop (and probably parted with a good deal more money of her own) and came back with the coolest football boots money could buy! They were George Best boots! They laced up down the side and they were bright pink and black. Very cool - and the envy of all my mates. Milly knew 'cool' alright.
Although, I did have to question that some years later when Milly and her boyfriend, decided to change the colour of the vinyl seats of his Ford Consul by painting them Black and red!
And every Saturday - Milly would take me into Romford town centre where she wanted to go shopping, and somehow we always ended up in the Wimpy bar - and me with a Banana milkshake in front of me. She knew what I liked.
During this period in my life, Milly was my absolute best friend who loved me, cared for me, and always looked out for me. We do well to hold on to hope in someone who will love us and care for us that much.
When Sue and I were courting we spent almost every weekend driving over to Dartford because we loved to spend time with Milly and Micky and of course here three children, Michael, David and Susie all of whom are now all grown up with families of their own.
Milly fell ill after a stroke in 2019 and was admitted to Darenth Hospital near Dartford. When Sue and I visited her in the hospital, Susie and her husband Darren were there and they were kind enough to give us some time to spend alone with my big sister, and I was able to get up close to her and speak to her about some of those happy childhood moments, to tell her how much I loved her - to tell her how much she was loved by her family - and to tell her how much more she was loved by God.
She was completely unable to speak, so I held her hand and was able to get close to her face and whispered to her how Jesus came to this earth to pay the price for our salvation and how He was now preparing a home in heaven for those who would put there trust - and their hope, in Him. I was able to tell her that our mum had done exactly that when she lay dying in hospital, and how both of our brothers, Andy and Gordon, had also done that.
Unaware at that time and whilst I was talking and praying with her, Sue was over the other side of the room on a chair praying for her and in her and saying "Maureen put your hand in the Lord's hand." She told me after we left that she could see in her mind the Lord calling Milly to come to Him and to put her hand in His hand. I just kept repeating "Maureen put your hand in Jesus' hand," and then I saw her put her hand in the Lord's hand, and at that very moment I heard Malc say: "She is saved."
After Susie and Darren returned (we were with Milly and the Lord for about an hour) and more family arrived. We said our goodbyes to all. When I said my final goodbye to Milly, I kissed her and said: "Milly, I know I will see you again in heaven."
She had been unable to speak or respond previously to anything I had said to her but she gave a definite vocal response this time, a kind of "Ah" and I left with real peace in my heart and the absolute assurance from the Lord that she had also decided to put her trust and hope in Jesus.
When we arrived home sat down to relax and it wasn't long before we received a call advising us that Milly had died. Shortly afterwards Sue said to me "Malc, the Lord just spoke to me and He said 'Maureen is now with me.' "
The Lord always confirms things with signs following so Malc and I rejoiced at home knowing that another of our family was now with Jesus.
We are still praying for Malc's remaining two sisters who are yet to come to salvation but are beginning to see a glimmer of hope for them. And we know the Lord's desire is that they too will come and know Him as their Lord and Saviour, and share eternity with Him.
This is real hope. Hope in the One who is waiting to receive all who will put their trust in Him.
I am totally confident that I will see Milly again, but boy, will I miss her until then? You bet your life I will. But what a future in eternity there is waiting for us.
Do you have that assurance for when your time comes to face death? You can have!