Family honors mom’s legacy of kindness by continuing her bracelet ministry

Before her passing last year, Hazel Brock Rone began making bracelets and giving them away to spread kindness and love.

At Anthony E. Madison Sr. Veterans Memorial Park in Monessen, Valerie Osborne still brings bracelets to honor her mother.

In her later years, Hazel Brock Rone, shown above, and her daughter, Valerie, initiated the “Be Kind Ministry” where they distributed hand-crafted bracelets throughout the Valley with the reminder, “In a world where you can be anything, be kind.” Submitted

She hangs them on a tree near a bench that faces the home where Hazel Brock Rone spent her life — small, colorful reminders meant for anyone who might need them.

“Maybe it’s exactly what they needed that day,” Osborne said.

It’s a quiet act. Easy to miss.

Bracelets made by Valerie Osborne in honor of her late mother, Hazel Brock Rone, hang from a tree behind her memorial bench at Anthony Madison park in Monessen. Taylor Brown / MVI

For Osborne, making the bracelets has become more than a habit.

It’s a way to stay connected to her mother and the simple message she left behind: “In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”

Hazel Brock Rone, 99, passed away peacefully at home surrounded by her loving family, on Aug. 5, 2025. Hazel graduated from Monessen High School in 1944.

Hazel was a member of Mt. Calvary Baptist Church in Monessen, where she held various positions and was an original member of the Calvary Gospel Chorus, singing for 72 years. Hazel would say her key to a long life was her love of God and family.

After her mother’s death, there wasn’t much discussion about what would come next for her bracelet ministry.

“I was always going to continue, there was never a thought to stop,” Osborne said.

A few months later, her sisters gathered at Val’s home and sat together making bracelets, just as she and their mother once had.

They laughed, told stories and shared memories while their hands moved through beads and string.

But that day, as they sat together making bracelets, it became clear that what started between mother and daughter had become part of the family itself.

The bracelets were no longer just crafts or keepsakes. They had become reminders of the woman who started them and the kindness she spent a lifetime showing others. And, that’s how the Be Kind Ministry was born.

From passing time to purpose

It didn’t begin as a ministry.

Osborne was just trying to spend time with her mom.

There were puzzles and word searches, small things to fill the day. She remembers sitting with her laptop, searching for ideas.

“I was Googling things to do,” she said. “Just trying to keep her busy.”

And there was music. Always music.

Hazel had spent a large part of her life singing at Mt. Calvary Baptist Church, and even at home, the songs carried on.

“We would sit and sing together,” Osborne said.

Somewhere in the middle of those days, they picked up beads and string.

At first, it was just something else to try.

“She was pretty good at it,” Osborne said.

They started giving the bracelets away — to family, then friends, then people at church. It didn’t take long before others started asking for them.

“Everybody wanted one,” she said. “People would ask for certain colors — their favorite color, their team colors.”

Some offered to pay, but her mother wouldn’t allow it.

“She said, ‘No. God will provide. Let this be our ministry,’” she said.

And just like that, something small became something more.

Side by side

As the years went on, the hobby changed.

Hazel’s health declined, and the things that once came easily became harder.

At first, she handed beads to her daughter.

Then, gradually, she stopped. “After a while, she was just watching me,” Osborne said.

But she was still part of it. “She’d say, ‘That’s a pretty color,’ or ‘Who’s that one for?’” Osborne said. “One time she told me, ‘You must have good eyes to see that little hole.’” Even near the end, Osborne kept making them, sitting beside her the way they always had.

“I’d say, ‘so and so wants another bracelet,’ and she’d just smile,” she said.

Those quiet, ordinary moments are ones Osborne now holds close.

“I just think about the times we had together, sitting there making them,” Osborne said.

A life well lived

Hazel lived a long life — 99 years — but to her family, it’s how she lived that matters most.

“If you ask anyone, they say she was the sweetest. They say she was kind,” Osborne said. “She was just the nicest lady to everyone.”

She raised nine children in a home that was structured but welcoming, the kind of place where people felt comfortable walking in and staying awhile.

Osborne remembers a busy house filled with school activities, holidays and constant company. There were rules, expectations and structure, but also warmth.

“We weren’t allowed to cuss. We didn’t take each other’s things,” Osborne said with a laugh. “But it was a good childhood.”

Whether it was family gatherings, friends stopping by or holidays packed with relatives, she said her mother made people feel welcome.

“Everyone always felt at home there,” Osborne said. “Friends always wanted to come over.”

That closeness within their family hasn’t changed.

Even as adults with families of their own, Osborne said the siblings still move through each other’s lives the same way they always have.

“We all have keys,” she added with a smile, speaking about her siblings who still live locally.

That same sense of warmth extended far beyond Hazel’s own family.

After years of working with children through local schools and daycare programs, generations of kids in the Valley grew up knowing her gentle nature and nurturing personality. Over time, the name her own grandchildren used for her stuck with just about everyone else, too.

“They all called her ‘MaMa,’” Osborne said. “The kids at school called her that, and all the grandkids called her that. Everybody called her that.”

For Osborne, the way others remember her mother is reflected in the lessons she still carries with her today.

Lessons that lasted

The lessons her mother taught still show up in everyday moments.

The way you speak to someone. The patience you show. The way you handle a situation, especially when children are involved.

“If you want a child to stop doing something, you don’t yell from across the room,” Osborne said. “You go over to them and tell them.”

Growing up in a house with nine children meant there was always noise, activity and people coming and going, but Osborne said her mother somehow managed to balance structure with warmth.

There were rules. Respect mattered. But so did making people feel safe, comfortable and cared for.

Looking back, Osborne said she didn’t fully realize how much those lessons would shape the kind of mother and grandmother she would become herself.

“It’s made me a better person,” she said. “I think watching her growing up, it made me a good mom.”

Now, when her grandchildren come to visit, Osborne sees pieces of her mother in the atmosphere she tries to create in her own home.

“They might say it’s boring,” she said with a laugh. “But they like coming. They know there’s love at our house.”

And in many ways, she said, that feeling mirrors the one people found in her mother’s home years ago.

“That’s the same feeling I think a lot of people felt when they came to my mom’s when I was growing up,” Osborne said. “Looking back, I had a really, really great childhood.”

Ministry in motion

Osborne still gives out handmade bracelets wherever she goes — to friends, to people at church and often to complete strangers.

Sometimes, she said, it’s easy to tell who might need one.

Other times, the moment finds her. There are days when the message is just as much for her as it is for the person receiving it.

One of those moments came during a quick stop at a store. In a rush, she realized she hadn’t shown the kind of patience her mother had always practiced.

“I wasn’t as nice as I usually am,” Osborne said.

The feeling stayed with her. So she turned around, walked back inside and found the cashier.

“I apologized,” she said. “And I gave her a bracelet.”

She explained why. “I told her this was something I did with my mom, and now in memory of her, and that we do it to spread kindness,” she said. “She was really surprised, and very grateful.”

Moments like that, she said, are a reminder that the message isn’t just something she gives away — it’s something she tries to live.

Other times, the meaning shows up in ways she can’t explain.

Another time, there was a woman she handed a bracelet to who immediately slipped it onto her wrist.

Then, she stopped and looked down.

“She said to me, ‘How did you know?’” Osborne recalled. “She told me it was her daughter’s favorite color — and she had just passed away.

“Moments like that don’t feel accidental.”

In another moment, the impact showed up in a quieter way.

After holding a door for a woman at church, Osborne struck up a brief conversation with her. As they talked, she reached into her bag and handed the woman one of the bracelets.

“I told her that it was something my mom started,” Osborne said. “That we give them out just to spread kindness.”

The woman listened for a moment before asking a surprising question.

“She said, ‘Are you a minister?’” Osborne recalled. “I told her no.”

But the woman kept looking at her.

“She said, ‘There’s just something about you.’” When Osborne handed her the bracelet and explained the meaning behind it, the woman smiled.

“That’s what I’m feeling,” she told her. “That’s your mother.”

For Osborne, it was a quiet reminder that her mother’s influence hadn’t gone anywhere.

When she sees a bracelet on someone’s wrist or reaches into her bag to hand one out, Osborne said she sees a piece of her mother still at work.

A place to sit and remember

Not long after Hazel’s passing, a memorial bench and tree were installed at the Anthony E. Madison Sr. Veterans Memorial Park Her family chose the location carefully, along the walking track facing her home.

“The bench faces her house,” Osborne said. “It just seemed right.”

Now, it’s a place to sit, to reflect and, in a way, to continue what she started.

Osborne has begun to hang bracelets on the tree behind the bench, leaving them there for anyone who might come across one.

At home, the reminders of her mom are quieter, but still present.

Osborne said keeping her mother’s memory alive has become part of everyday life, especially with her grandchildren.

Whether it’s through stories, old songs or small lessons she learned growing up, she still finds herself talking about Hazel often.

In her sunroom, Osborne often notices a red cardinal perched nearby.

One day, while sitting together, her grandchild looked toward the window.

“Once, she said, ‘Gram, your mother’s here,’” Osborne said. “And there it was, the cardinal sitting outside.”

In other moments, Osborne said she feels her mother’s presence through familiar songs or simple opportunities to show kindness, moments where there always seems to be a bracelet nearby.

“I feel it all the time,” Osborne said. “We talk about her all the time.”

And when they do, it isn’t always sad.

“We’re almost always smiling,” she said.

Be kind

Sunday will mark the first Mother’s Day without her. Holidays and family gatherings have felt different.

“The big house” where everyone once gathered has been quieter, Osborne said, as the family adjusts to celebrating without the woman who had long been at the center of it all.

But even in her absence, her presence still finds its way into everyday moments — in the stories her children tell, the songs they still remember and the bracelets that continue to reach people throughout the Valley.

What started as a way to pass the time together has become something lasting — a simple hobby that grew into a ministry rooted in kindness, memory and connection.

Osborne never expected it to grow the way it did, but she knows why Be Kind Ministry keeps going.

“It’s just something simple,” Osborne said. “But it makes people smile. And that’s my mom, still doing what she always did.”