It was a few weeks before she passed on. I had come into church for our usual Sunday morning teachers' prayer meeting and saw her sitting in the corner.

Her illness had obvioustly taken a toll on her. She had lost a considerable amount of weight and she had taken to placing a hot water bottle at her back, ostensibly to help ease the pain she obviously felt there; not that you ever heard a word of complaint pass her lips or hear her focus any conversation on her condition.

I went over to hug and greet her, taking care not to squeeze her tight like I was tempted to do, and asked her how she was doing.

"It is well", she responded, "The Lord is my Strength".

I hardly remember what next I said. I was too full of emotion to pay much attention. But I did notice that her usually well kept hair was looking uncharacteristically rough. She had fixed some weave on and it had been on her head for a while.

So, I smoothed down her hair and suggested she did her habitual braids, which, in my opinion, always looked so good on her and which she had told me once, her husband and sons loved seeing her in.

She smiled and nodded briskly.

I didn't actually expect her to take my advice but, the very next Sunday, there she was, in braids and as usual, she looked lovely.

I could imagine that she would have been uncomfortable sitting for long, getting it done but she did it anyway.

It is possible, of course that she had planned to make her hair, regardless of any input from me...but, it made me feel good to think that it might have been my encouraging her that made her decide to do it.

I will miss Sister Bukola Adeyemo. I will miss her a lot.