Leah Keyser was born on June 19, 1930 to Radena Maitland Keyser and Frank Keyser Sr. Though born in Otsego, she spent most of her childhood in northern Michigan near the booming metropolis of Leroy. Leah and her older brother Frank Jr. lived with their mother on a dirt road in a log house offering few amenities. However, they were surrounded by so many aunts and uncles and cousins, and so much laughter and music, that they felt rich. The one-room school she attended was called Shingletown School. While that educational institute may not sound impressive, the education Leah received at Shingletown equipped her—even at a very young age—to provide weekend and summer school "classes" to an assortment of siblings and cousins who simply could not resist the charming little dark haired beauty with the shining blue eyes. Leah ALWAYS wanted to play school and ALWAYS wanted to be teacher and she ALWAYS had plenty of students! By third grade she had moved south and ended up at a new school in Kalamazoo, where she caught the eye of classroom heart-throb named Bobby Barry. Longing to catch Leah's attention, he made his move at recess. She was swinging slowly on a wooden swing; Bob thought he'd give her a thrill by sneaking up behind her and giving her a push--higher, higher, higher! "Stop! Stop! Stop!" she cried. "Let me down!" Bob found out just what a bad idea that was two days later when Leah's big brother, Frank, jumped from behind a tree and bopped him in the nose—a subtle way of saying, "You leave my sister alone!" Unfortunately, Bobby Barry had no choice but to leave Leah alone, because shortly she moved back up north to Leroy, well beyond his reach. Leah's much-older sister, Ora, was already married and on her own, but for Leah and Frank, Leroy was home: it was where they worked in the fields, tended cows for neighbors, hauled water for bathing and cooking, and often ran barefoot, not for fun, but because they often didn't have shoes that fit. Despite this, they went to school almost every day. And they had plenty of fun. Frank teased his little sister mercilessly, and she got mighty feisty in return, but all in good fun. From the day Leah was born to the day Frank died there was never a cross word between them nor a chink in their relationship. But back to Bobby Barry….wonder of wonders, shortly before he graduated high school he heard a rumor: Leah Keyser was back in town! He hopped on his red Indian motorcycle and drove to the house where she lived with her mother and brother. This time Frank didn't bop Bob in the face the instant he saw him. With a nod of his head, he let it be known he wouldn't interfere if Bob asked Leah out. They went on their first date on that red Indian motorcycle, and the dates never stopped. They were married several months later, just in time for Leah to join Bob on a three-year military adventure, ending up at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, just as the Korean War started. Bob was an airplane mechanic, and Leah learned the skills of motherhood with their newborn little girl, Lindy Lynne Denise, born on Thanksgiving Day, 1951 at Tripler Army Hospital in Honolulu. When the tour of duty was finished, the little family moved back to Michigan, to a quaint neighborhood in Vicksburg called Dog Patch. Leah's best friend, Ann, had married her brother Frank, and they too had a little girl, with another on the way. The two families created a community of love in that little neighborhood, welcoming into their circle an ever-changing cast of characters: friends, relatives, anyone needing a place to stay. The brothers-in-law, Bob and Frank, became the owners of the Dog Patch junk yard, where junked cars and boats and construction equipment and tools found new uses, and which occasionally offered the hard-working owners a meager income. During those years, Mom was known for the spectacular lunches she made for the assortment of youthful workers seeking their fortunes at the Junk Yard. She knew there was no fortune to be had—even more reason to provide them a hearty and delicious lunch. But within a few years, it was time to move on—Frank to find a bigger house for his rapidly-growing family. And Bob to welcome his son, Daniel Paul Barry, as well as a new job as a used car salesman. Leah was thrilled with a new house where she could fully enjoy what she loved best: creating a comfortable, beautiful, peaceful place for the people she loved. She worked occasionally outside the home—cleaning houses or caring for children—to save funds for college tuitions or other out-of-the-ordinary needs. But she loved to work in her home, a home that she opened to a steady stream of people needing the kind of loving care she offered: Bob's younger brothers Jim and Dick, an old relative from up north Uncle Coy, two recently-released prisoners who needed a stable place to live until they could get on their feet, nieces needing a place to live during college. On more than one occasion, Leah provided nurturing and love for newborn babies whose families faced challenging seasons. Sometimes those babies even stayed for months, snuggled in the cozy cribs she prepared for them. Leah was uniquely gifted with babies and the elderly. Her mother, Grandma Keyser, moved back and forth between Bob and Leah's house and Frank and Ann's house all the time their kids were growing up. The cousins adored her and fought over who "gets to have her tonight." She would have been delighted to be in two places at once. She lived a good long life, and when she died of natural causes, she died in Bob and Leah's home, in the arms of Leah and Frank. When Bob's mom died prematurely of cancer, she too chose to spend her last days in Bob and Leah's home, with Leah's gentle hands soothing her aches and pains and her loving words calming her spirit. Leah's secret longing was always to be a nurse. Though she never had the privilege of getting a degree, she used her natural healing skills on behalf of so many people whose paths crossed hers. One of her favorite roles was as a hospice volunteer; she worked so hard soothing suffering people, and came home from those experiences deeply fulfilled. Leah's two children, Lynne and Dan, consider being Leah's children one of the greatest gifts of their lives. Their spouses, Bill and Barb, agree that they hit the mother-in-law jackpot. Her five grandchildren—Shauna, Todd, Katie, Kendall and Levi—have a thousand beautiful stories to tell, and their spouses—Aaron, Eric and Solomon—feel honored to be counted among her grandchildren by marriage. Her seven great-grandchildren—Ellie, Braydon, Lena, Kaidan, Marcele, Henry and Mac—will all carry with them beautiful memories of sitting at a tiny table to have a "tea party" with Nana as she was called by some or lining up cars on the floor with MiMi as she was called by others. Everyone who knew Leah Barry will always remember her kindness, her laughter, and the beautiful sparkle in her blue eyes. Whether she was offering her gentle healing touch to a suffering senior, or stretched out on the floor with a rambunctious toddler, all who knew her were warmed and encircled by her profoundly unconditional love. The family will receive friends from 6:00 – 7:00 PM Friday, July 24, 2015 at the Lake Center Bible Church 995 Romence Rd. where a service to celebrate her life will follow at 7:00 PM. Memorials in Leah's memory may be directed to the West Michigan Cancer Center.