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A Life Journey “Do you tell the truth?” mom asked my friend. “Yes” she replied. “Always?” mom persisted, pointing her finger. Shelley flinched. She was not expecting such direct and piercing questions After all, I had just introduced her to my 97 year old mother and this was to be a short, polite conversation. But, for mom it was of utmost importance. On this virtue rested her estimation of the person. Integrity mattered. It always did for mom. Born to God-fearing parents in the little town of Royal near Champaign, Illinois, Mildred Pauline Boner grew up with Enid and Josephine, her two older sisters, Claude Boner,“Papa”, and Rose Hadley Boner, “Mama”. Papa superintended the little Sunday School and the preacher came to dinner Sunday afternoons. The girls were given the bony pieces and little Mildred always got the chicken neck. Mama was known for her apple pies and they came with such regularity that Mildred developed a distaste for them that lasted a lifetime. Papa ran the granary elevator in town and the school teacher boarded at their house. Between the two the family eked out a meager existence. Life was hard. At three years of age little Mildred contracted polio and needed to be given special treatment. Later, when she was nearing high school age, concerns for Papa’s health drove the family to move to Texas. Her two older sisters stayed behind and worked their way through university. But Mildred, being the youngest , moved with the family to a barren land in south Texas. There they farmed unsuccessfully. Eventually her parent's marriage ended in divorce. Mildred felt trapped. She despaired of ever escaping from her poverty. But leave she did. She traveled to San Antonio, Colorado Springs, Toledo and St. Louis. Her mother moved to San Francisco and Mildred managed to visit and live there for a time while her mother operated a rooming house. Later she would meet young Ralph Hayes from Chattanooga, Tennessee and marry him in April of 1929. They would travel a country in depression looking for work, living anywhere they could--one time it was a chicken coop. Eventually they bought a car for $15.00 and found their way back to California. When World War II broke out, they both went to work for the Lockheed Aircraft Company. In the end this union ended in divorce and Mildred was left with a small house in Burbank. On Christmas Day 1947 Mildred was remarried to a widower named Oliver Hamilton. He brought to the marriage a five year old son and Mildred took on the job of being a mother. For the next 55 years she busied herself with the task of developing his character. Mildred took all her activities seriously. She immersed herself in the American Red Cross and the affairs of her church. She involved herself in many patriotic endeavors and gave countless volunteer hours to numerous causes. She kept a meticulously clean house and saw that her young son was always gainfully employed; first around the home and then, as he grew, in the yards of neighbors and friends. Many lawns were cut and many weeds were pulled by his young hands. Money earned was saved for annual family vacations. He could spend his money any way he wanted, but when it was gone it was gone. So he learned to budget and spend carefully. Vacations were annual family highlights. Mildred watched the finances and planned the itinerary. No stone was left unturned and there was no time wasted relaxing, unless Oliver wanted to fish. Funds were carefully monitored and expenses were kept to a minimum. Many friends were made on these excursions. And Mildred, being the corresponder, saw to it that these friendships were maintained for many years. In 1968 it was decided that there would be one last move. Unbeknownst to everyone, the two drove north to Sequim, Washington, Oliver’s birthplace. He had tried for years to interest her in Sequim. But Mildred always responded, “Don’t tell me. I know those trees up there don’t grow on sunshine!” She vowed the only way she would ever leave her beloved California would be “feet first”. So it was with surprise and astonishment to their son when he opened a letter from Washington State showing the floor plan of their new house! So it was that Mildred B. Hamilton spent her last 35 years in the little town of Sequim. They made many more friends there and, true to Mildred’s nature, those friendships also endured. In fact, you may well be reading this because of a friendship that was largely nurtured and greatly valued by this remarkable lady. Always quick of wit and humor; she believed in telling it like it was. She never had patience with mere appearances. “Political correctness” was never in her vocabulary. For Mildred there was only one way to live life, and that was honestly. And If she were here today she would still be asking, “Do you tell the truth. . .always?”
The seeds of the Christian Faith were planted very early in Mildred’s life. Raised by parents who took their Christian walk seriously, she was exposed to traditional Christian teachings in a little church in a little rural town early in the 1900s. She was always a searcher for truth. Many churches were visited over the years. And in the late ‘40s she found answers she could embrace in the Christian Science Movement and joined the First Church of Christ Scientist in Burbank, California. Both she and Oliver, served faithfully there for many years until they became disillusioned by issues in the local congregation and the Mother Church in Boston. For many years thereafter Mildred had little to do with any church. In fact, she looked on all organized churches and religions with suspicion. She would have no part of hypocrisy. And it appeared that there was a fair amount of that in even the best churches. If this was religion, she wanted none of it. When her husband of 51 years died, that seemed to seal the case closed. Did God even really exist? She gave up ever hoping to find the truth. But something
began to happen after his death that just could not be ignored. Try
as she might, she could not shake the love her son had for her. And
this slowly began to melt her hardened heart. Long discussions ensued
about God, Christ and what the church was all about. And finally she
acknowledged Christ’s love for her, and her love for Him. She understood
at last that salvation was a gift. It could never be earned. Slowly
the reality of God’s immense Love for her became undeniable. And
at 95, Mildred accepted Christ, not as just a good man, but as her personal
Savior and Lord. She returned to church and found the message had not
changed in 95 years. But her attitude toward it had and she embraced
it fully. Where before she had seen hypocrisy, she now saw honesty.
Where before she witnessed the smallness of man now she saw the bigness
of God. She felt loved at last. She was home. She had found the truth.
I love you Mom,
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