Paternal Grandparents

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS

It was a true midnight, Christmas eve service my paternal grandparents brought me to the Christmas the year I turned four. Looking up I stared at the tall stain glass windows, light reflecting off them, adding to their beauty. In my young minds view, they looked larger than life. The richness of the reds and blues were unlike anything I had ever seen. I remember a feeling of great awe life.

Songs were sung that night. Two I remember are “Silent Night” and “Away in a Manger”. Apparently they brought me a sense of comfort, a feeling of faith. Even now, in times of stress I sing these songs when I need a sense of peace, the time of year does not matter. My children have listened to them, when they cry, with hopes of instilling calm.

Why my grandparents chose to bring me, I do not know. Memories of them are not those of loving grandparents. My paternal Grandfather was an alcoholic. In my memories, my Maternal Grandmother was stoic and cold. There is no memory of my parents sending me off, only that of the car ride there. Next I am standing in the church, looking around and feeling important because I was allowed to come.

Looking back, I see the significance in the event not recognized for years to come. God planted a seed. The church held my first memory of feeling both special and comforted. This memory has provided me the same throughout my life. I truly believe God planted this mustard seed of faith for me to hold on to, knowing what was to come. He has put people in my life to water it and experiences to strengthen it as it has grown.

Did my grandparents know the part they played that night? Did they know that they were angels bringing me to my faith? Probably not. This seed of faith eventually came to save my life and has brought me through many tough situations. It has blossomed strong. For this I thank my grandparents for the Christmas Eve in the church long ago.