Lessons from Alf: A Life Marked by Courage and Faith

It’s rare to learn directly from someone who lived past one hundred. This is the story of Alf, the one person I knew who nearly reached that milestone, and the simple, profound words he left with us.

I have written about Margaret before; she was the founder’s wife at the camp where we live and work. Full of spunk and wisdom, she loved to quote Scripture and often offered advice that stuck with people. Margaret went to be with Jesus in January at the age of 96. Today I want to tell the story of Alf, her husband.

When people speak of Margaret they often call her a “woman of faith.” I would say the same about Alf. Beyond faith, though, one word keeps coming to mind when I think of him: courage. In 1944, he and his new bride set out aboard a small boat named the Goforth. They brought few material possessions, but they carried a clear vision and deep conviction: to travel the coast of British Columbia, visit remote communities, encourage people, and share the story of Jesus.

That calling required a special kind of courage — the courage to step out in faith, the courage to travel into the unknown, and the courage to remain steady and consistent through many storms, both literal and figurative. Over the past 21 years I was privileged to watch Alf live out that calling. He celebrated his 97th birthday while we were fortunate to know him, and he modeled perseverance, devotion, and quiet bravery.

This past year was especially hard for him. After more than 60 years of sharing life with Margaret, losing her left a large and painful gap. We watched him grieve honestly; he spoke openly about how much he missed her. Even so, he continually turned his gaze to Jesus for comfort and strength, reminding those around him that faith can hold joy and sorrow together.

Recently Alf took another bold step. After living for over 47 years in the same house on the Camp Homewood site, he decided to move into a retirement complex in a nearby town. Packing up decades of memories was a significant emotional task for him, and the change affected all of us who care for him. The night before he left, our current staff and families gathered to celebrate him and to say goodbye to the home where he and Margaret had lived so many years.

Near the end of the dinner that evening, Alf stood and spoke to the group. He reflected briefly on the recent year, on the upcoming move, and then he offered a few simple words he wanted us to remember. He told of reading about a highly learned theologian who, when asked to name the most profound sentence he had ever learned, replied with the same simple truth Alf wanted to leave with us.

“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

Those are not complex theological formulas. They are a humble confession of faith, and coming from someone who had lived a long life of service, they felt weighty and true. We are grateful that Alf is still nearby so we can visit or call. I told him that while I love hearing stories from the earlier years of his life, what I have valued most is watching how he and Margaret lived out their faith in ordinary, everyday moments.

Alf’s life was a quiet witness to courage lived out in service, persistence, and simple, enduring faith. His example reminds us that true bravery can be ordinary: showing up day after day, offering encouragement, and keeping hope steady through loss and change. Those who knew him will remember his stories, his steady presence, and the warmth with which he spoke of love and faith.

Blessings to you, Alf. We love you so much and are grateful for the life you shared with us.

Update: Alf passed away on July 29, 2018, just a few days shy of his 101st birthday. We say goodbye with bittersweet feelings. We are joyful that he is now in glory, reunited with his beloved Margaret, yet we miss him deeply. Thank you, Alf, for a life well lived.