My grandmother's birthday is today.
She would have been 121.
An Impossibility.
She lived a long, fruitful life,
And died at 86,
She taught me so much
And so little.
She had been on her own at 13.
She saw no reason I could not be, too.
So she kept our home,
Fixed our meals,
But let me choose my path.
God has no grandchildren.
The relationship is born anew
For each person.
Far from faith I walked
Through the halls of knowledge.
My grandmother never called me back.
She, both Presbyterian and Christian Scientist,
Trusted God.
She was dead when I stepped once more
Into a Christian church.
Knowledge of other faiths only guided
My steps back to Christ.
Did she know when I knelt to be ordained a deacon?
I am sure she did.
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