A little bit of heaven sent down to earth

Our story so far: A doorway in our lives closed when our beloved miniature schnauzer died in the midst of our church renovation project. But God was on duty. A window opened.

# # #

Our granddaughter was born. She was a week overdue, but she arrived late one afternoon in a swirl of snowflakes like Elsa from “Frozen.” She was perfect. We became frequent guests at the nearby house of my stepdaughter and son-in-law where they were as obsessed with burp rags and diapers as we were with two-by-fours and floor plans. Nearly every day, our phones would light up with an adorable pink-punctuated picture. Our granddaughter was a beautiful distraction from the gap created by the dog’s demise and from the overwhelming amount of work represented by the church. As any parent or grandparent knows, it’s hard to think about much else when one is holding a crying or contented baby—she simply demands all your attention.

About a month later, a neighbor and former member of the church who had already gifted me with a number of photos and an old box of Christmas cards picturing the church, called me over to her house. “I have something for you,” she said when I arrived.

red chair
Tiny chair. A gift.

She handed me a tiny wooden chair.

“These used to be the Sunday school chairs in the area in the church you’re turning into your bedroom,” she said. “I have vivid memories of these chairs in a circle in that room.”

The Sunday school room, of course, was the room where we were removing the doorway, the one where there once was a row of coat hooks. And my benefactor knew very well her gift would someday soon be the perfect sized seat in the church for my new granddaughter.

# # #

Tomorrow: Chapter 20 opens. Showers, as it turns out, are expensive. Read about it here.

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