This being clear, we are now to ask what in
her life gives us cause to praise
God, to rejoice in what she represented.
How, in the particularity of this life,
given and taken away, do we say, “Blessed
be the name of the Lord?”
Fortunately, for this I have not only my brief
acquaintance with her to go on,
but also her memoirs, dictated to her daughter
when she was 90. I will mention
three things that stand out, abounding in
Lillie’s experience, and essential in
human life.
First, there is “pioneering.” Part of
our collective sadness over her passing
is that she represents the last of a remarkable
movement in history, in which
women especially played a vital and courageous
role. Having been born in the
early part of the last decade of the nineteenth
century, covered wagons and
campfires and clearing wilderness and raising
houses up out of nothing were
not stories in books, but her own ordinary,
adventurous life. But it is not merely
that she was caught in a moment of history;
pioneering, for her, was a calling, a commitment: “I was the youngest
girl who always tagged along,” she said. She seemed always to believe
that the future would be friendly, that the world, with
all its lurking hazards (a rattlesnake bit
the schoolmate with whom she was
walking one day), could be trusted.
Of course, the test of a genuine pioneer is
whether adventurousness is a passing phase
or a permanent characteristic: I
can tell you, on good authority, that Ms.
Lillie had dinner at the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, at the
age of 87.
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