“Good Morning! Good Morning! Today is the day!” Grandma called from the doorway.
Reaching out one hand from the tangled bed-covers, I opened my eyes to the leafy trees outside the window. Early bluebirds were already singing. The sun was beginning to color the eastern sky with stripes of peach, pink and mauve. “What a beautiful day,” I thought to myself. Then I remembered, today is the day we move away. “NO!” my heart cried.
Turning to Grandma, I saw that she wore her familiar faded flour-sack apron, the one with the tiny pink-and-blue flowers, and carried a potholder in her hand. “Good morning, Grandma!” I replied. “I don’t want to move away, Grandma.”
“Come and have breakfast. Today is the day which the Lord has made.” Her warm smile did not brighten my mood.
“Grandma, I don’t want it to be today.” Brushing away the “sleepies” from my eyes, I stuffed my legs into the jeans on the floor, and followed Grandma into the kitchen. The table was set for two, with a bright lunch cloth covering the worn table top. A jelly glass filled with pink rosebuds centered the table beside the familiar ceramic bluebird. Grandma’s Bible was open beside it. On each plate was a soft-boiled egg in a wooden egg cup. Nearby were a plate of toast and bowls of oatmeal porridge. A pitcher of thick cream, a bowl of brown sugar, and Grandma’s freshly-made strawberry jam completed the setting.
“Grandma, I don’t want to move away from here. Everything will be so strange. I won’t know anybody! I will be so lonely.” Anxious pleas fell from my lips in a rush, as I realized that today was the day my family was leaving. The decision to move 2000 miles away was not an easy one to understand for a 13-year girl. Leaving all the familiar faces and places for an unknown place was terrifying.
My Grandmother’s well-worn Bible lay open on the table. As always, we folded our hands and bowed our heads to pray before eating our breakfast. As I spooned soft egg yolk onto a bite of toast, Grandma told me how much God loves me. No matter where I went, He would take care of me. Her words comforted me, but still I felt scared.
As we finished eating, Grandma picked up her floppy leather-bound Bible. It was worn from constant use; small bits of paper marked many pages. Her soft pencil lines underlined favorite passages. She turned to Psalms, as she did every morning, and began to read to me.
My eyes focused on the bluebird in the center of the table. The sound of her voice wrapped me in love, and I sensed the presence of God. When Grandma finished reading, she handed her Bible to me, and pointed to where I should begin with reading Psalm 148. The praises and promises from God’s Word comforted me, and peace flowed into my being.
With the final “Amen” Grandma reached for the bluebird and gently handed it to me. “Would you like to have this to take with you? It will remind you that God is with you every day, and that He cares for you, just as I do.”
With open hands I accepted Grandma’s gift. I knew that I had received a blessing, and that it would follow me all the days of my life. Wrapping my arms around her, I whispered, “Thank you, Grandma.”