A dear soul whose name is Corlene
Is master of art left unseen
Heaven’s gallery’s hold
Every brush stroke so bold
Yet in this life the canvas is clean

On Sunday Corlene Schulz will have a birthday. The only reason I remember it each year is because it is the same day as my sister Kristy’s birthday and Corlene was promised naming rights if indeed her arrival landed upon the December 28th celebration.

I don’t know a lot of her history. I know that she lived in Virginia and that the year I was born she moved with her mother and her sister’s family to Burr Oak, MI and became something of a member of our family. Her sister Marie was married to Landis Martin, who was pastor of our church. Her mother, Viola Schulz, was widowed and she and Corlene, who never married, lived next door to Landis and Marie. Everyone called Viola, Grandma, and visiting “grandma and Corlene” was a highlight of my childhood.

Corlene didn’t leave the house much, her health kept her from attending church most Sundays and though she rarely got out, she was of such character and talent that she was well known and dearly loved by our congregation. She became the piano teacher to many of us. My sisters and I all took lessons and though I never was able to apply myself to practicing, the knowledge I do have is carefully kept because there is something special about information and skill planted by a caring heart and hand. My oldest and youngest sisters did much better under her tutelage and have been able to share what Corlene left to their care.

She did so many things behind the scenes. Teaching being one of them, but she also wrote beautifully, and a card or note has never come from her without a little drawing carefully done and whimsically set among her heartfelt words. When I was young she would type and layout the church bulletins each Sunday. I’ve seen her desk and it is full of books and paper and hymnals, each one handy for reference or use.

She is full of music and color. It is not an exuberant show that she lives, but rather a steady stream that waters the lives of others, giving sustenance and joy to those more able to reflect the sunshine. She is faithful and fruitful from her quiet corner room, serving sometimes from a reclined position when she is too weak to sit up to write.

Her mother passed away several years ago and Marie’s husband Landis died the year I moved to Nashville. The two sisters are together now taking care of each other, passing their days noting the beauty around them, whether it is in the children and families that stop by to visit or the hummingbirds they feed in the summer. They are soft hearts with strong principles and firm resolve to give and to love. Marie’s children care for both of them. Becoming the hands and feet that deliver the offerings and sacrifices given from these two humble hearts.

Corlene is not a well known artist or composer, yet her life has produced beautiful fruit that has nourished so many. She is dear to my family and so many others, because of what she does quietly and unseen.

Happy Birthday Corlene.