Maddin McCallie was easily one of the most “bless-ed” people I have ever known in my life. The way I have it figured is that there are a lot of people who have been blessed, who have been given one wonderful attribute or another, and I am happy for them.

Far rarer are those who I believe are “bless-ed,” those precious few who instead have given the love and the grace of the Lord back to the rest of us. You see, Maddin has forever been my “Exhibit A” that there are indeed angels who walk among us and, because I have known her all my life, I am happier for me.

Fittingly, when funeral services are held for “The First Lady of First Presbyterian” on Tuesday, there will be few tears or sadness. That’s because for over 50 years at the huge church she has assured one and all that the greatest victory will be the day we, too, will cross that River Jordan to spend the rest of eternity with Jesus Christ.

A long, long time ago – this even before air conditioning – my mom and dad arranged a “blind date” for two of their closest friends. Dad’s pal was a young doctor named David McCallie. Mother’s closest friend was Maddin Lupton and – viola – that’s when the magic began at the big house on Edgewood Circle. All four sons were loads of fun, “Little David,” Allen, Jack and Freddy, and there was always something afoot or astir.

“Big David,” who became one of the most beloved doctors this town has ever known, was the “healer” and Maddin, whose ability with food and flowers and laughter and warmth, was the “helper.” Because both were born into families whose service to others is legend, I literally can’t remember a time when Maddin wasn’t holding forth in her devotion to her God, her family, or the tens of hundreds who counted on her.

Several years ago the whole church paused to fete her with a special celebration, one that acknowledged her 50 years as something called the “church hostess,” and so glorious was the evening the ever-humble Maddin bubbled, “I never knew a person who was privileged to hear her own eulogy!”

As is always the case, there were some tough days. Her youngest son Freddy died of brain cancer, her oldest son David’s wife also died so very young. Her brother Fred had a heart transplant and another brother, the lovable Tommy, lost a leg before he would later lose his life.

Through it all, Maddin was a rock, her marvelous Christian faith an example for the rest of us when our own cold winds would blow. Because she endured life’s heartaches with such overwhelming grace. Her example was what made her “bless-ed,” don’t you see, and when word came last week she had suffered a devastating stroke, heaven’s promise trumped the tragedy.

I dare say nobody on earth actually knows how the ascension thing really works, but, because I believe the way I do, I think that when she died early Saturday morning at age 84, the soul of Maddin Lupton McCallie went immediately to heaven. And again because I’ve watched her all my life, I lay odds that Saint Peter didn’t even bother to open The Great Book when she flew through the Pearly Gates to be with her Freddy, young David’s Nancy, Tommy and all the rest.

That is why, at tomorrow’s funeral with Ben Haden blessing her memory as only he can, you won’t see too many tears or pressing sadness. I believe Jesus has already said it for us with the rewarding words: “Well done my good and faithful servant.”

What Maddin leaves behind is an example, a template for the rest of us who long for a life that is as rich and as full. By constantly and forever giving to others, Maddin was “bless-ed” and we in turn were blessed. What a dazzling life we will once again celebrate tomorrow.

royexum@aol.com