FAMILY  BIBLE

Poem for Wednesday November 26, 2014

A GRANDMOTHER'S FAITH

They went together—those

wrinkled hands and tattered

book. And something in the

awe with which she held it

 made me think she held

a sacred fire.

The old brass-bound Bible

came to her from her mother,

and hers before that, too,

through more generations than

I know how to reckon - faded,

cracked, worn with use.

I wonder how it felt to hold

the past within her hands -

how many broken hearts found

comfort there, how many searching

minds were fed, how many fears

were calmed in its reading-, what

songs of joy were hummed over it;

what secret tears still stain its pages?

I loved to hear her talk to God,

and when she prayed, I sometimes

imagined I felt God near. It was a

very safe place to be - with God and her.

I liked her God, so wrapped up in the

small goings-on of daily life—not too

far away and busy with eternal

things to take notice of one

small child.

The Bible became mine today, and

my smooth hands look somehow out

of place - and somehow right at home.

Like her, I hold the accumulated joys

and sorrows of my heritage and join

my life with theirs. There is a

strength to it - forged by faithful

living in the presence of a loving

God. The line still holds - all those

who have gone before, myself, and those

who are to come.

© Marie Livingston Roy