There was a widow who volunteered to clean the pews and dust the knave. All the jobs done in the church for the love of God in her spare time.
In summer time she cut fresh flowers, from the garden her husband tended now departed, to brighten weddings and communion masses.
She arranged them for mass each week but no one noticed who she was, just the cleaner in the shadows, thanked each week in the vicars sermon.
She had lived in that village by the church all her life, schooled and raised and married there, it was in many ways her church, her life revolved arounds its works as nothing else was left.
Then came the day she passed away and the funeral mass came and went. At the mass were very few, just the older Parrish folk and the fifth vicar she had known who sent her to her heavenly home.
As to her home here and all her worth, she left it to her local church the church she loved as much as God himself, her church from birth to death.