The Librarian Who Left Her Lights On

Every evening at 6:15, Margaret Cousins flipped on the porch light of her small brick house on Maple Street in Decatur, Georgia. It wasn't for decoration. It was a signal. Any kid in the neighborhood who needed help with homework, a quiet place to read, or just a warm seat and a glass of sweet tea knew that light meant the door was open.

Margaret had been a school librarian for thirty-one years. When she retired in 2014, she didn't stop teaching — she just moved the classroom to her living room. She tutored for free. She kept a shelf of paperbacks by the door and told every child to take one home. When parents lost jobs, she quietly paid electric bills through the church office, never attaching her name. When a tornado damaged three houses on her block in 2019, Margaret organized the rebuilding effort from her kitchen table before FEMA arrived.

Her pastor once said, "Margaret doesn't worry about what she might lose. She's too busy figuring out what she can give."

That is the portrait the psalmist paints in Psalm 112 — a life rooted so deeply in reverence for the Almighty that generosity becomes as natural as breathing. The righteous person is not shaken by bad news because their heart is steady, trusting in the Lord. They distribute freely and give to the poor, and their righteousness endures. Margaret's porch light was never about her. It was a reflection of the One whose light she carried.