Early on Christmas morning Manly and I drove over to Ohio to watch our grandchildren (Autumn 6 and Lincoln 2) open their presents. Heather (our daughter) and her husband Jared had been looking forward to Christmas and a visit from Jared’s parents, who live in PA, and his sister and her boyfriend.

When we arrived the grandkids were still in bed. Amazing! I thought, remembering how our three were always awake before the sun’s first glow peaked over the horizon! The tree was beautiful and had packages piled high all around it. On a table beside the tree, where the plate of cookies and glass of milk had been lovingly placed the night before, was a thank you note from Santa. Two cookies, each with big bites missing were all that was left. The glass still held a couple swallows of milk. How sweet is that! I whispered to Manly as I looked back at all the presents that would soon be opened. Over on the kitchen table and counters were plates of cookies and other Christmas baked goods and snacks. Later that evening we would have a huge Christmas dinner with ham, sweet potato casserole, and other family traditional delights that help make Christmas special.
Autumn and Lincoln were about to have the time of their lives—another memory of a happy childhood. Yes, it was a happy time but I couldn’t shake the sadness I felt for the children who would not wake up to such a lovely site. Would not even wake up in a warm house.
I thought about another grandmother who lived only thirty or forty minutes away, across the Ohio River in Northern Kentucky. This grandmother was raising her three grandchildren by herself. It was difficult making it day by day, trying to see that the children had what they needed like food and clothes to wear to school.
There was never enough—of anything. She had been able to get a small Christmas gift each for two of the children, but had no idea what to do for the twelve-year-old. There was no money left, even for food, and her check wouldn’t come until the first of the month, two weeks away. Just when she was about to give up, she heard about a mission that, the week before, had given out brand new Christmas presents and even a shopping bag full of enough food to make a Christmas feast. Maybe they would have a gift left for her grandson.
Embarrassed for having to ask, she knocked on the mission’s door. Her heart broke when she learned that all the toys had been given away. There was nothing left. Nothing at all. “But wait! We do have a sleeping bag he might like. It’s brand new. We give them out to the street people when it gets really cold.”
The grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. She could barely get the words out. “Thank you so much! That will be the perfect gift. You see, my apartment is small and we don’t have any beds. We sleep on blankets on the floor. My grandson will think he’s camping and the sleeping bag will keep him nice and warm. It’s the perfect gift. Thank you!
Manly and I are looking forward to moving into this Northern Kentucky area as we launch out on our “Last Great Adventure!” We are looking forward to sharing the “Perfect Christmas Gift” with people like this grandmother and her grandchildren—the only gift that continues to bring hope all year through, not just at Christmas time. After all, HE IS the one who brings good news to the poor, comfort to the brokenhearted, freedom to the captives. HE IS the one who gives beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair.
___________________
It’s great being a grandma. I had never experienced being close to my first two grandchildren. Their dad is a Lt. Col. in the military so they have lived in several different states and for five years they lived in Germany. For a few years they lived only two and a half hours away from us. Tucked in my treasure chest of memories are the Thanksgivings and Christmas mornings we spent with them there, and the soccer games, swimming at the Y, and the weekends we spent helping them remodel their house.
Heather and her family live with us. They moved from Maryland last July with high hopes of quickly finding jobs so they could get settled in an apartment. With the economy as it is, jobs are not so easy to find. Jared started working a couple months ago and it looks like Heather will start working soon. PTL!! The benefit for us—we can spend time with our grandchildren every day. They love their grandma and grandpa and love being around us.
In my book, Letters to Lori, Opal speaks to Lori (her granddaughter) of the special relationship she had with her grandmother.
“I used to sit on the porch and snap beans with my Grandma Corn and we would talk for hours. Grandma had many wonderful and incredible memories of the past. She would eagerly gather us up in her arms and tell us as much as we wanted to hear about how things once were. She’d tell us tales about the Civil War and her family and all sorts of things. Most of the people we knew growing up did not like to talk about the history of their families. Maybe there were too many things they didn’t want known. Many were too preoccupied with the hardships of the present day to want to remember times that were even worse. Oh, but not my grandma! She built within us a love and acceptance of our heritage. Isn’t it amazing how some people—no matter how much bad happens to them, no matter how difficult the situations life seems to hand them—can come out on the other side even stronger? That’s how my grandma was. Of all my grandparents, Grandma Corn had the biggest influence in my life and the biggest place in my in my heart.”
Learn more about my book here.