Well, I made it. I left home early Monday morning, and 21 hours later I was in sunny south Florida.

I had to drive through heavy rain and holiday traffic, over the rivers, through the woods to make it in time to celebrate my step mother’s 95th birthday yesterday at her lovely home in Jupiter, just north of West Palm Beach which lies due west of world famous Palm Beach, land of the rich and famous, known locally by many as “Fantasy Island.” Multi-billionaires come from all over the world to roost for the season, “snow birds” as they are called by the locals, they and their less fortunate multi-millionaires and well-heeled wannabes arrive by the thousands every season to spend millions, fueling what might otherwise be a rather dull, if not non-existent economy in South Florida.

My dear sweet totally independent step-mom, born at 4:30 in the morning on Nov. 24, 1914, in the deep country woods near Colquitt, Ga., Leana Cherry Kirby, the daughter of Frederick and Cherry Kirby, her namesake, is a strong-willed woman who is well-steeped in religion and rigid moral principles which, as she says, she “lives.”

Mom is active, sharp as a tack, and able to quote Bible verses on command to fit any situation.

Any!

She and my dad were good friends as children growing up in Georgia at a time when people in their circumstances did not have much more than each other and hard, hard work in the fields from sun-up until sundown all day, every day, year after year.

“We did not know anything about the outside world,” she says, recalling how things were back in those days. “All we knew was what we saw and all we saw was work and each other.”

There were no doctors, no conveniences, no schools, nothing.

Babies were delivered by midwives and many of the full-term babies suffered and died, she says, “for lack of proper care.” Her mother had at least 16 children she thinks, but only eight “lived to grow up” and she is the last of them.

After my mother died, dad and Leanna met again at a funeral in Georgia. They had both lost their lifetime mates and they made a decision to connect. Both lonely and with much in common, they decided to marry. It was a good decision. She took great loving care of my father until he died suddenly of a heart attack a few years after they married.

They were perfect for each other.

Relaxing in the living room with her yesterday, I asked her what she found to be the most amazing thing about her 95 years. She answered immediately, “Being given peace by God on July 3, 1928.”

She says she woke up “happy” that morning and confessed herself to God, turning her life completely over to His will. She says that she devoted all the rest of her life to serving Him by serving others.

A devout Baptist, Leanna taught Sunday school for decades, and worked in the ministry in many capacities earning high rank, distinction and recognition within the Baptist hierarchy, but she says her most important work has been with children, many of whom are now grown, prosperous and thankful for her guidance, care and devout nourishment.

The living room was covered with floating birthday balloons, cards and gifts from her former students now living all over the world. A constant parade of visitors, well wishers, telephone calls and flower deliveries kept her busy all during my visit.

Without being a fanatic or overbearing, Leanna has gently, but firmly guided many, including me toward a better life by teaching us at every opportunity, the true value of adhering to simple rules. “They work if you stick to them,” she says.

“We are all imperfect” she says. We are all “just people; we make mistakes, but we must learn from them.”

I asked her what she meant by being “given peace.” She said that she suddenly “knew God” on that day and realized that she need not every worry about anything ever again; that she would just study and “live” the Bible.

By “living” it she means doing good, being good, expecting good and loving people in the most powerful way. She expressed a profound understanding that life is brief, and that though she has lived for 95 years, it is but a moment in the eyes of God. She says life is like a dressing room where we all need to be getting ready for eternity by understanding the importance of using our lives for good; for love.

I had expected her to say that she had been amazed by man’s progress; by all of the inventions she has witnessed in her lifetime; everything ranging from automobiles, airplanes, modern technology, space travel, agricultural advancement, social change ...

But she waved it all off. She says that all of that is interesting and helpful, but that it does nothing to advance real goodness and love, it means nothing.

Instead, she says, “It has made many men greedy, and led to more suffering than it should have. What good does it do to have all these things and not be able to do good with them?”

She admits that life is easier than it was when she was younger growing up in the country without the modern conveniences that we take for granted now, but she wonders if it is really “better.”

“We have much to be thankful for,” she says, but we still have a long way to go before we realize what is really important in life.

People may begin to understand it now that the reality of this recession is setting in, she says. This may force us to learn again that it is not what material things we have that matter as much as the love we have in our hearts that really, really counts.

We hugged for a long time. She kissed me all over my face and asked me when I was coming back home again.

“Soon,” I said.