Etoi George was one of those saintly ladies in our church that served quietly and faithfully throughout her life. She was born in 1916. I last saw her in 1997. She was 81.
Etoi was filled with love. She loved the church, she loved the lord, and she loved people. One night I was sitting listening to her stories of America in the early twentieth century. She suddenly grew somber.
Etoi said that several years before she was born, her father was at a cotton gin. The train pulled in and a 10 year old boy stepped off. Her father said, “Son, where are you a goin?”
The boy said, “I figure if I can get a meal tonight and sleep on these here cotton bales then tomorrow I’ll go wherever that train takes me.”
Etoi’s father said, “No, I have a place for you. You’re coming to live with me.”
And Etoi’s dad took the boy in. That was a difficult thing to do back in those days.
Etoi said that she and her biological little brother were both born to her parents in their old age. The other brothers and sisters had moved on. In 1918 the flu epidemic hit. Etoi’s younger brother contracted a bad case of it.
“The flu bursted his eardrums,” she said. “He was deaf for life.”
When Etoi’s little brother turned 7, she and her mothertook him to the Texas School for the Deaf in Austin. There were 90 children enrolled that year.
She said, “As things worked out, that boy my father took in got married that same year. He and his new wife moved onto the farm and took care of the farm and daddy so momma and me and my brother could go to Austin. You know, I think the Lord was in that.” Then she gave me a fine bit of insight that I’ve somehow kept with me, “Sometimes you don’t know what the Lord’s a doin’ til years later. I think he knew all along with that boy that daddy took in that some day he would be needed.”
“Sometimes you don’t know what the Lord’s a doin’ til years later. ..”
Paul said it like this:
“For we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those that love God.” (Romans 8:28)