A Great Day To Be Alive

If we can keep her alive for the next 48 hours she might make it.

That was her obstetrician’s prognosis moments after she came into the world. Preemie babies are on a knife edge between life and death. Seventy years ago, that knife edge was a lot thinner in rural hospitals like the one in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia.

Preemie Birth

She came into the world at 32 weeks, too eager to wait to get to full term. She’s been eager ever since. Her father could slip his wedding band with room to spare onto her leg and she felt as light as a feather. She survived those 48 hours and spent another month in the hospital and then was bundled home. Her parents hardly knew what to do with the poor little thing.

Her maternal grandmother loved showing off her first grandchild, strolling the paths with her baby carriage. There were no sidewalks in New Glasgow. Once, an elderly neighbour, Mr. Babineau, looked at her in the carriage and commented, “She’s tiny. She might be good for something one day.” Grannie Jeans repeated that story for the next three decades.

Seven decades later she is still good for something. At least that’s what I think. Forty-five years and counting are time enough to see the true beauty of her character. She can sometimes be bossy but always loves to laugh. Gritty. Courageous. Fun-loving. Kind. Generous. Beautiful. Five grand kids, two sons, two daughters by marriage, and friends around the world agree.

In Dnipro, Ukraine 2025

Becoming Jocelyn

Isn’t it a wonder who a baby will grow up to be? Jocelyn Jean Jones attributes any success she has experienced to her faith in God. A faith handed down from her parents and grandparents and made personal by her decision to follow of Jesus. From Sunday School Christmas pageants, to volunteering as the President of her church youth group, to graduating from Eastern Pentecostal Bible College, faith in God has been her north star.

Mr. Babineau could not have imagined that she would be ordained as a minister, help lead one of Canada’s largest churches, travel the world on short-term mission work, and develop a mutual admiration and love for friends in a war zone in Ukraine.

She stared down the barrel of a robber’s rifle when she was a teller with RBC. Everyone else hit the floor and she kept her feet. She tamped down the fear when an elephant charged our vehicle in a South African game reserve; held her coffee cup steady at breakfast when suicide drones blew up a portion of our neighbourhood in Ukraine. Only six of her years are affectionately referred to as the “hell years.” None of them were when she was diagnosed with cancer and needed radical surgery. Or when her father passed away during a pandemic and she could only attend his funeral via Zoom.

Happy Birthday

August 26, 1955, was a very good day to be born, even for a preemie. And August 26, 2025, is a great day to be alive and be good for many somethings.

Please join the conversation and post a comment for Jocelyn. Thank you.

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