The death notice for Charlena Genia in the Journal Star didn’t say much about who she was. Char’s name, her husband Marvin’s name, step-kids’ and her employer, Molex, were all listed. There was nothing, though, about her always low-key and often unsung voluntary contributions to our community, the city where she landed nearly 25 years ago.

It didn’t say how she and Marvin had nothing when they arrived, only hope for an adequate place to live. Their first home here was the People’s City Mission. Their second, a modest motel room with kitchenette where the rent was payable one week at a time. The paper didn’t tell how generous Char was in paying back the community that gave her and Marvin a break when they really needed one, and how she’d come to consider Lincoln her hometown even though she’d never seen or heard of the place before landing at the Mission here.

Char was born on the Chippewa Indian Reservation in Michigan and raised from a very early age in a succession of white foster homes. She had a rough early childhood; she never talked about it; Marvin shared the information with me while trying to help me understand why Char wasn’t always her usual gregarious fun-loving self. At age 14 she was adopted by a couple now long since deceased. Her adoptive mother was of Italian descent and Char loved to share stories about her boisterous Italian family cooking pasta in their big kitchen as she was learning to appreciate a culture new to her. It was in that kitchen that Char learned to cook. She was a fantastic cook and especially enjoyed cooking big pasta meals for friends and neighbors.

In recent years, however, she didn’t have time for entertaining. She had more important things to do, tending to the needs of people often forgotten. Her spiritual philosophy could best be described in the words of Jesus: “In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these … ye have done it unto me.”

Char was an active participant at her church, First Plymouth, as a Stephen’s Minister and in other programs. She was dedicated to young people and served as a CASA volunteer. She often delivered meals on wheels, at times having to borrow a couple of dollars to buy enough gas to finish her route. She was a regular server at several of Lincoln’s soup kitchens and homeless shelters over the years; she was especially happy to share her time and energy on the “big” holidays when many people take time off to be with their families.

Char’s spiritual quest didn’t stop with her own church. She was dedicated to living according to the rule of St. Benedict as a Benedictine Oblate, participating regularly with the nuns at Madonna in their Morning Prayers. She felt called toward helping the sick and dying as her own health became more fragile, and had been scheduled to begin her training to become a Hospice volunteer at Tabitha in early November.

The death notice couldn’t include Char’s special survivors, her three elderly cats. Shortly before her death, she called to try and recruit me to accompany her in volunteering at “The Cat House,” Lincoln’s no-kill shelter. She had just read an article in the paper describing a new program that they sponsored to spay, neuter and re-release feral cats in the Uni Place area. This was a cause close to her heart. She had tried to keep the homeless cats fed in her blighted Detroit neighborhood when Marvin’s job had relocated them to that city in the mid-1990s.

One of those Detroit kitties had been too sick to be left on his own when Char was packing up her things following Marvin’s untimely death in 1998. Alone again, Char returned “home” to Lincoln with her two older cats and this sickly new adoptee. Char died with very few possessions most of which were donated to the Indian Center; those most precious to her were her three elderly cats.

My friend passed away Oct. 24 at St. Elizabeth’s Hospital with no fanfare. On her way to a workshop at First Plymouth, she suffered an aneurysm and died two days later in the hospital without regaining consciousness. She had turned 59 exactly one month prior to her death. What is noteworthy about her is not the circumstances of her death but how she lived her life.

I just want Lincoln to know that although Char lived a most unassuming life, she generously gave back her time, talent and love to anyone at anytime without seeking anything in return. That is rare indeed.