.JPG)
Wekiva’s
Wishing Well – The Background Story
We have been enjoying a new program at Wekiva Presbyterian Church
for more than a year now. Sponsored by
our Board of Deacons, it is a program that creates and send thoughtful letters
to church members who are ill, or homebound,
or grieving , or going through some kind of a life-transition. The concept has been eagerly adopted by the
church members, both those who sign the letters on a Sunday morning, and those
who receive them in the mail during the week.
It is a wonderful way to let one another know that they are being
surrounded with love and prayers.
Some of you have asked me about the background story of how our
Wishing Well came into being. I am glad
to share it, because it is touching and far reaching. It goes back to a woman named Kristine
Milleville Byrne.
Kristine Milleville Byrne, was born in 1954, the
daughter of Bertram J. Milleville and Eleanor Shaw Milleville. Kristine’s father Bert was a brilliant
inventor, the Vice President of Valve and Engineering Research for Rockwell
International, where he held many patents. Kristine’s mother Eleanor was a
gifted sculptor. A graduate of Simmons
College (Massachusetts), she was known for her realistic sculptures in
bronze. Her best-known
work is the bronze memorial to Roberto Clemente, in the city of
Pittsburgh.
Kristine Milleville grew up in a busy home filled with brothers
and sisters and love and faith, artistic appreciation, and intellectual
stimulation. She married and moved
east.
On July 9, 1979 Kristine Milleville Byrne was a lovely young woman of 25 with a bright
future. About four o’clock that
morning, when her husband Vincent was away on a business trip, Kristine was
strangled to death by an intruder into their home. Kristine’s murder
was a senseless tragedy. Her family was
plunged into grief by Kristine’s death.
They went through all of the ordeal of her funeral, and the shock and
emptiness that comes with loss.
While they were going through that dark time, they
experienced something that had lasting meaning to them. Kristine’s family received a letter. The letter was not from one person, but rather,
signed by many people, who expressed to them their love and prayers in their
time of sorrow. The letter was from a
congregation who knew of this terrible event, and who reached out in compassion
to let the family know that they were not alone—that others were praying for
them, and that God cared for them. Eleanor was so moved by what that church did, that
she wanted to thank them and she wanted to learn more about the letter. So in time, Eleanor contacted them, and asked
them about it. This was how she learned about that congregation’s
commitment to being in touch with people going through tough times, or
celebrating joys, through what they called “Letters of Concern”.
The idea was so meaningful to Eleanor that she took its story to
her own church. And, inspired by how
much it had helped the Milleville family, that church decided that they too
would engage in this ministry of caring.
That was 1979. That church has
been writing letters of concern to many people, every Sunday, for 34 years,
ever since.
If you put the words “Letters of Concern” in quotes, and then the
word deacons on its own, you will find that there are a number of congregations
who have done as Eleanor’s church did, in taking that idea of that first
congregation, and putting it into practice in their own. Not surprisingly, they are mostly Presbyterian congregations. For that is where it began, and that is where
the idea has spread. I happen to know the story because, for a decade, I served Eleanor
and Bert Millevile’s church in Pittsburgh.
They were both dear friends as well as church members. A part of my ministry was working with the
deacons there. So, I saw at first-hand,
that these “Letters of Concern”—these written reminders of love and
prayer—build people up when they need it the most. Because of that ministry, I know of many
people who have kept and treasured these letters of concern, down the decades,
including our own family.
The idea that began at one Presbyterian Church, and continued at
another, and another, and another, is now before our own congregation. And while I might be tempted to tell you that
“Letters of Concern” was my idea, or some member of our congregation’s idea,
that would do Eleanor and Bert and Kristine a disservice, wouldn’t it? “Letters of Concern” are what I call a
“God-idea”. An idea that God set into
the hearts of someone in that first congregation, and passed along into the
hearts of another, and another, and another… including our own.
I am glad that the Deacons at Wekiva are taking Eleanor’s idea of
preparing “Letters of Concern” to heart, and have given them a new distinctive
name. Wekiva’s “Wishing Well” gives us a
way to remember and honor Eleanor and Bert and their daughter Kristine. And out of the Milleville’s family tragedy,
it helps us bring the compassion of Jesus Christ very close, into the homes and
hearts of those we love.
