Doctor, for years you have been encouraging me to put Peggy in a nursing home. I am beginning to think about other arrangements for her, as she is no longer able to cope safely in our home. What nursing home in the area do you recommend?”

He looked at the floor for a few minutes, then looked up and said, “None.”

None? I knew there were none I would recommend, but him? After years of pushing me to make other arrangements for Peggy, to “get a life” as he put it, he had none to recommend! At least his silence made my choice easy. The RP Home was the only place I would consider sending Peggy if I could no longer take care of her because it was the only place I could trust to care for her with dignity and love.

Peggy had always lived with me—almost. She lived four-and-a-half years without me before I was born, and she lived for a year and a half in a group home after our mother died while I finished at Geneva College. That year and a half was the only time she did not live with her family until, in June 2012, she went to the RP Home. Peggy turned 61 that August.

Like many individuals with Down Syndrome, Peggy developed early-onset Alzheimer’s (dementia occurring before age 65). By the spring of 2012 she was incontinent and was no longer able to safely climb the stairs in our home. I was beginning to imagine finding her with a broken hip at the bottom of the stairs. She insisted on climbing them when no one noticed. Being Pittsburgh natives and members of the RPCNA for over 30 years, we were familiar with the RP Home and some of the administrators. The problem was distance. Since my marriage, we had lived in Massachusetts and were a 9-½ hour drive from Pittsburgh. I found it hard to imagine being that far from Peggy.

The nursing homes around us were totally unacceptable. I had been in them, visiting friends and neighbors who ended up there. I would have to live there to make sure Peggy was not ignored or mistreated by staff or residents and to assure her needs were met. That was impossible. I overheard a staff member in one of them say, “Well, they just come here to die.” And I thought, “No, they come here to live the remainder of their days in peace and safety and to be treated with dignity, but they get little of that here.” Because I wasn’t supposed to have heard the remark, I could not comment. But I did not forget it.

I made the call to the RP Home. I knew the RP Home was different. I knew it was clean and didn’t reek of that awful nursing home smell. I knew the residents were treated with respect and dignity. But even I didn’t realize how different it is. I didn’t realize the extent to which love permeates everything done there. This love is so noticeable that visitors, new volunteers, and new staff say, “What gives with this place?” or “I haven’t figured this place out yet. It’s different,” or “The staff is so well informed about the patients. I have not seen this in other places that I have worked.” These comments weren’t reported to me by others. I heard them myself. I’ve met former rehab patients who come back to volunteer!

Peggy began her stay at the RP Home on the personal care floor and moved to full nursing last October. She made many friends—staff, residents, and volunteers—who all took her to their hearts and looked out for her. In my visits there I have seen remarkable things: dining hall workers in the far-off hallways going out of their way to shake hands with and greet Peggy by name; maintenance men who knew her name and kidded with her; and a CNA who was at her desk on the phone with a family member and, when a call light went off, said, “Gotta go!” slammed down the phone, and literally ran to the correct room. (At my local nursing home, the call lights are always going off, and no one troubles to respond, much less run!) It is commonplace at the RP Home for administrators to check on patients, not just nursing staff—and I’m talking about CFOs and director of marketing types. And over the phone the CNA assigned to Peggy told me that she was praying for Peggy. Does your nurse pray for you?

Is the RP Home perfect? No. Sinners are sinners everywhere. And funds are very limited. In the short time Peggy lived there, some staff had to be let go because positions were eliminated. There are services the RP Home wishes it could provide. Mistakes are made, and some days are less than perfect. But is it remarkable? Yes! The RP Home professes to be a family. It is small for a nursing home/personal care facility, and that helps. The reason for a family environment is Christ. Christ is at the RP Home, and He makes Himself evident every day in the lives of residents and staff alike.

The RP Home was the only place I would consider sending Peggy…because it was the only place I could trust to care for her with dignity and love.

Peggy went unexpectedly, but gently to be with Christ on Jan. 28. Am I glad she was at the RP Home, in spite of the distance? Yes. She needed care I could no longer give her. I never had an ounce of worry that Peggy was not getting the care she required at the RP Home. She also needed activity and friends. Most of my children were grown up and gone. Peggy could no longer work. Our home had become boring for her, yet she was largely homebound. Going out was difficult for her. Winters were becoming impossible. The RP Home filled real needs in her life for her final two-and-a-half years.

Did she miss her family and her home? Yes. She always showed off any family member who happened to be visiting to everyone who came by. But she also added new “family members” there. They loved her very much.

The RP Church is blessed with a gem that increasingly few in the church realize we have. In a day that despises the weak, the elderly, the disabled, we have a Home—not an institution, but a Home—where those who, for whatever reason, cannot be in their own homes, can be loved and cared for in a manner that is truly remarkable. This place is a testimony to Christ in a dark culture. We need to not lose this light-filled place.

What can you do for the RP Home?

Pray. Pray for wisdom for the administration, the nurses, the staff, the volunteers, and the residents. Pray for love and patience and joy as well. Pray for funds to keep it going.

Contribute. If you live within a reasonable distance, volunteer. Let other people and even your congregation know about the needs at the Home. The needs are very real. Regulations increase costs.

Recommend the RP Home. They have temporary rehabilitation services, assisted living apartments, personal care, and full nursing care.

Consider the RP Home for yourself or a loved one. It may be a wonderful answer to your prayers—even if it is far away.

Betty lives in beautiful Berkshire County, Mass., with her husband and son and attends Christ Church RP in Whitesboro, N.Y., with them. She is a wife, homeschooling mom, writer, and very amateur photographer.