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Mot Richey was one of the precious senior adults at McClendon Baptist Church in West Monroe. She went home to be with the Lord in 2006. Mot was a lovely Christian lady. She was also a wonderful singer, wife and cook.

In my whole life, I never met a more loving couple than Jack and Mot Richey. Married for 60 years, they met at the little parish fair in Olla. Mot was "almost 16," and her older sister was dating Jack's cousin, J.D. Mot went to the fair with her family, and when she got off the swings, she saw J.D. and he introduced her to Jack.

*When Jack died, Mot told me, "I think I knew right then. Jack swears he knew right then." But that was in 1942, and World War II was going on. Jack spent the next two and a half years serving in Iran. Mot wrote him a letter every day while he was gone. And when he got home, they were married Aug. 6, 1945.

*Looking back, Mot said it was a little bit of heaven on earth. But they knew more than their share of heartaches. In 1979, their daughter Beverly took her own life.

Beverly was beautiful and talented, the pianist at First Baptist Church in Houston for a time. She was a Christian, but depression overwhelmed her, and Beverly took her own life. It was a parent's worst nightmare, but God came through for Jack and Mot.

And in God's comfort, Mot wrote the words of this poem:

"Sorrow" by Mot Richey

Sorrow was a stranger to me, I hadn't known her before --

Until that day she came my way and camped there at my door.

She took away the laughter, and took away my song,

She made the days all dreary and every night so long.

Gone were the joys my heart once knew, and dreams just faded away,

Dark was the path of my sorrow for night had o'er taken my days.

Then ever -- ever so gently, my dear Lord whispered to me,

"Look up my child and dare to smile, I've not forsaken thee."

His yoke is easy and His burden is light, on Him my burden I cast,

No more was I tossed in waves of despair, His peace was mine at last.

Now sorrow is no stranger to me, I've come to know her well,

I've walked with her through death's dark door, into its deepest hell.

From this walk with sorrow has come a glad new song,

For my Lord has walked with me and He has made me strong.

He's taught me that true peace and joy is found in Him alone,

And if my life is hid in Him, He'll safely lead me home.

My prayer is that God would give you the same comfort that led Mot to write this poem. May the Lord heal your wounded heart as only He can.

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