I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread. (Job 23: 12)

It was painful for a six-year old to watch, but there she lay—tiny, silver-haired and prim, all four feet eleven inches of her—drawing each breath with difficulty and her voice barely audible. “Be a good boy!” she whispered. Those were the last words I heard from the lips of “Grandma!” The were spoken to me as a gift, I felt. This was the one who read bible stories to me and introduced me to Jesus Christ when I was barely walking, a blond, scruffy little scrapper.

“Grandma” had been a real pal to me—I never would forget the shopping trips and the ten-block walk to church from her house on Sunday mornings. At the store she would give me a dime and say, “Buy whatever you want!” That felt like heaven to a tyke who rarely saw coins or even understood what money was. I would walk around and around the candy section evaluating the possibilities.

“Grandma” was the widow of a railroad worker who had been spared much of the disaster of the great depression because the trains still ran. She would compliment me on my choice of a purchase as if to express a genuine appreciation for the time I took to make the best choice.

“Be a good boy!” Who could possible fail after being given a challenge like that from someone they admired so much. The very memories of our times together in the scriptures and the tales she would tell about bible characters continue to bring a challenge to my heart and tears to my eyes.

God of mercy and love, may we each find a special someone who will share the beauty of You with us in our daily walks!