Alan McGuiness relates that in 1875 a sickly child was born in Upper Alsace, who was slow to read and write and was a poor scholar. But as he grew up he made himself master subjects that were particularly difficult, such as Hebrew. In music, he turned out to be a genuine prodigy, playing the organ at eight when his legs were scarcely long enough to reach the pedals. At nine he substituted for the regular organist in a church service.

His name was Albert Schweitzer, and everyone knows how by early manhood he had several professional lives proceeding concurrently. At the University of Strasbourg he earned his first Ph.D. in philosophy then went on to win doctorates in theology and music theory. By the time he was 30 he had a flourishing career as a concert organist and was publishing a stream of books. But then he abruptly stopped his academic career in order to study medicine and devote the rest of his life to being a missionary. This had begun when by chance he read a magazine article about the Congo. “While we are preaching to these people about religion,” the article said, “they are suffering and dying before our eyes from physical maladies.”

Schweitzer had received his calling, and he began to lay plans to go to Africa. Friends protested: if the aborigines of Africa needed help, let Schweitzer raise money for their assistance. He certainly was not called upon to wash lepers with his own hands.

There will always be such people who seem to find it their calling to flatten our dreams and diminish our lives. But there will always be a few, thankfully, who will encourage our ideals and gladly join us in our goals. When Schweitzer fell in love with Helen Bresslau, the daughter of a Jewish historian, he bluntly proposed: “I am studying to be a doctor for the people of Africa. Would you spend the rest of your life with me in the jungle?” And she answered, “I shall become a nurse. Then how could you go without me?” And on Good Friday 1913, the two of them left for the French Equatorial Africa. For more than 50 years he served there, eventually to become a Nobel laureate and a legend.

Source: Alan Loy McGuiness, 1985, Bringing Out The Best In People, Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing, p.90-91

Alan McGuiness relates that in 1875 a sickly child was born in Upper Alsace, who was slow to read and write and was a poor scholar. But as he grew up he made himself master subjects that were particularly difficult, such as Hebrew. In music, he turned out to be a genuine prodigy, playing the organ at eight when his legs were scarcely long enough to reach the pedals. At nine he substituted for the regular organist in a church service.

His name was Albert Schweitzer, and everyone knows how by early manhood he had several professional lives proceeding concurrently. At the University of Strasbourg he earned his first Ph.D. in philosophy then went on to win doctorates in theology and music theory. By the time he was 30 he had a flourishing career as a concert organist and was publishing a stream of books. But then he abruptly stopped his academic career in order to study medicine and devote the rest of his life to being a missionary. This had begun when by chance he read a magazine article about the Congo. “While we are preaching to these people about religion,” the article said, “they are suffering and dying before our eyes from physical maladies.”

Schweitzer had received his calling, and he began to lay plans to go to Africa. Friends protested: if the aborigines of Africa needed help, let Schweitzer raise money for their assistance. He certainly was not called upon to wash lepers with his own hands.

There will always be such people who seem to find it their calling to flatten our dreams and diminish our lives. But there will always be a few, thankfully, who will encourage our ideals and gladly join us in our goals. When Schweitzer fell in love with Helen Bresslau, the daughter of a Jewish historian, he bluntly proposed: “I am studying to be a doctor for the people of Africa. Would you spend the rest of your life with me in the jungle?” And she answered, “I shall become a nurse. Then how could you go without me?” And on Good Friday 1913, the two of them left for the French Equatorial Africa. For more than 50 years he served there, eventually to become a Nobel laureate and a legend.

Source: Alan Loy McGuiness, 1985, Bringing Out The Best In People, Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing, p.90-91