Late December, 1975. It’s 2:00 am and Husband and I are awakened by the telephone. No one wants to get a middle-of-the-night call. My heart was pounding. Husband answered in a state between grogginess and trepidation. “Hello?” To our great relief, the voice was cheerful. It was Husband’s close friend since childhood calling from the…
Author: Grandma Grace
A Little Immigrant
This is the story of a Russian immigrant family- the oldest of their three daughters was only 8 years old when they arrived in the U.S. They had been granted asylum in Israel when they first fled Russia. Through the help of Amnesty International, an American church was contacted with the request for a sponsor…
Ripples
Husband and I stood dumbfounded in the vestibule of a little country church a few days ago. We were staring drop-jawed at a friendly man about our age. Having just met him, Husband had engaged him in conversation. “Where did you grow up?” asked Husband. “Cottage Grove,” the man answered. “Oh, ok. I grew up…
Happy Valentines!
Like the past several Valentines, our friends’ day won’t be chocolates and flowers. It’ll be pain pills and the flowers may have to wait for her funeral. Here is the story of a couple we have known for four decades. For years, the wife’s mind has been deteriorating with dementia and her devoted husband took…
Hand in Hand
Ah, Valentines! That romantic (or daunting) holiday on which so much seems to hinge. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about hand holding. Not limited to couples hand holding, mind you, although that is part of it. I’ve been thinking about the times I’ve wished that someone was beside me to walk me through something…