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I Loved Grampy

Page 3

by Bill Melchior

CHAPTER 3

  GRAMPY AND GOD

  Grampy was a religious man. He believed in God and the power of prayer. He told us stories from when he served in the army during World War 1. His stories of fighting in France and seeing soldiers die led him to his belief in God. There was much suffering and death everywhere. Grampy saw it all firsthand as a medic. The stories that haunted him the most were the soldiers he couldn’t save. He described in detail the helpless feeling of having to watch life slip away and not being able to do anything. The soldiers knew they were dying, but there was nothing anyone could do. These were the times grandfather asked God to take their souls to a better place, a place free of pain and suffering. He never said it, but I believe that his time at war made him adopt the commitment to help someone each day and to live one day at a time. Grandfather cherished and enjoyed the blessings of every day.

  There were many soldiers that asked grandfather to pray with them. Many asked forgiveness for their sins and shortcomings. Grandpa always said that regardless of their religion, or lack thereof, most soldiers acknowledged a God when it came down to their final hour. It was as if they had a sense there was a Supreme Being and there would be a hereafter.

  Probably the biggest thing that convinced Grampy of a God and a hereafter was the way some soldiers died. Some simply passed so quietly he had to check their pulses to see if they were gone. But for others, it was as if their last breath had been sucked out of them. Soldiers who were in comas opened their eyes wide and sat up, as if their very spirits were being drawn from their bodies along with their last breaths. As life left their mortal bodies, their eyes closed and their lifeless bodies collapsed back into the bed. Grampy would recount how the way they sat up was not a normal way to sit in bed. Many times it occurred while their eyes were still closed. He believed another force caused their body to sit up and their eyes to open. The looks in their eyes as their spirits left their bodies indicated they saw the place they were going. Their vision was very focused on whatever they saw. Grandfather knew they were looking at something. It was the way these soldiers passed that convinced grandfather they went to another place. It’s easy to understand some of the phrases we use with death. In this case, “Rest in peace” was perfect. Another commonly used phrase was, “Grant them eternal rest.”

  Some had smiles as they passed, as if they couldn’t wait to be freed from their infirmed bodies. Others didn’t seem quite so eager to embrace whatever lay beyond. This led Grampy to believe there was a good place and a bad place, a heaven and a hell.

  It was hard to accept that a person went to hell. You would have to be really bad to go to hell for eternity. Eternity is a mighty long time to go without having a chance for redemption. Maybe the bad place was a purgatory where you went until your debt was paid for your sins and transgressions. Then maybe you went to heaven. Even as an adult it is difficult to imagine punishment for eternity.

  Grandfather was a big believer in guardian angels. Maybe the soldiers who passed with that look in their eyes were being led by their guardian angels to their place in the hereafter. He firmly believed angels could help guide us. This is a matter of faith, believing without seeing.

  I asked him to explain what a guardian angel was. He said that some people thought that angels were spirits sent from God to help guide us as we go through life. I asked, what was the difference between your guardian angel and your conscience? Grampy had to think about that for a minute. Finally, he said the guardian angel guided the conscience to help you decide what was right. This made sense to me. Grampy was happy to let the subject drop there.

  Grampy instilled these beliefs in me. The thought of being punished in the hereafter is pretty scary to a young boy. Actually it’s pretty terrifying to anyone. Perhaps this is one way religions get the masses to obey their rules. This was all well beyond the comprehension of a young boy.

  Grampy felt religion was a matter of faith. We can’t prove God’s existence. We must accept Him on faith. Grampy always felt God wants us to choose him. He will not force Himself on us. If we choose Him, then we are truly accepting Him. If we trust in God He will not desert us.

  Grandfather also taught us there is good and evil in the world. He used to say, “Just look around and observe. If you pay attention you can see the good and the evil.” He also believed in the devil’s influence. If you don’t believe in God then you do not look at things as being good and evil. They are just things that happen.

  He was right. I could see evil in the simplest situations. There was a bully in the neighborhood. One day I watched as he took another kid’s lunch money at school. This was the devil at work. If I did not look for evil I would have dismissed this as one kid being mean to another kid and would never have thought of the spiritual aspect of this incident. Grampy was right. The devil put temptation in front of the bully and he succumbed to his base desire to dominate a weaker individual.

  I also saw good when I looked for it. Mrs. Smith, a neighbor, was ninety years old. I should say ninety years young. She still did as many things for herself as she could. The cane helped her walk with her arthritic knees. She had great trouble crossing the street before the light would change to red. People would see her at the light and help her cross. Mrs. Smith was always grateful. She always said the same thing whenever anyone helped her, “Thank you and God bless you.” This is a simple example, but those people could have walked by and ignored her. Instead they helped a person in need. When you start looking at things as being good or evil, it changes your perception of life.

  Grampy taught me that the bad feeling we get when we do something wrong is called our conscience. He really made my little brain think when he said, “If there is no good or evil, then why do we feel bad when we do something that hurts someone? Why do we feel bad when we lie? It’s to help us know right from wrong. If we believe in right and wrong, then it makes sense that there is a reward for being good and a punishment for being bad. That’s why there is a heaven and a hell.” I didn’t fully understand this theological philosophy until I experienced the “Cookie Jar Incident.”

  There was a large cookie jar set on the kitchen counter at Grampy’s house. It was usually filled with the most delicious chocolate chip cookies I had ever tasted - the kind with chocolate chips that leave a gooey trail of chocolate when you bite into them. The chocolate drip could be found on your chin because you couldn’t get the chocolate chip in your mouth fast enough. The dough was soft and melted in your mouth. I could have made a meal out of those cookies. These were off limits unless Grampy said I could have one. I was a seven year old with little sense of self-discipline. After all, self discipline is something one acquires with age. I looked up at the counter and saw the jar. Inside of the jar was a treasure of delectable delights. A booty any pirate would want for his own. My mouth was salivating as I thought of the sheer happiness that awaited inside that jar.

  I decided to sneak a cookie, even though I knew it was wrong and was afraid of getting caught. The great taste outweighed the mild punishment I would receive. I moved the chair over to the counter, quietly took off the lid, and set it on the counter ever so gently. I reached into the jar and felt them. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them. I was mere seconds from the heavenly taste of gooey chocolate chips and soft dough. I stood on the chair, pulled out a cookie, and held the cookie so close to my face that it looked as big as a pizza pie. I closed my eyes. I took a huge bite out of the cookie.

  All of a sudden I felt the presence of someone’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I shoved the cookie back in the jar. I turned to find Grampy staring at me as if I had three heads. He asked, “What are you doing?” We both knew what I was doing. But he was going to make me tell him. Thanks Grampy, make me confess my culinary sin. Scrambling to cover my tracks, I cleverly responded, “I was just seeing if there were any cookies left.” His expression was inscrutable and I figured I’d fooled the old man. “Really?” Grampy said. I replied, “I was going to tell you if you
needed to bake some more.” I had him now. He was on the ropes. What choice did he have but to call me a liar or let me go. He wouldn’t call me a liar because he loved me too much. I slowly removed my hand from the jar and said, “There are plenty of cookies in there. “ Grampy asked, “Did you eat any?” Now I was on the ropes. I didn’t know how long he had been watching. Did he see me eat part of that cookie or was my secret still safe? Would he catch me in a lie? I loved Grampy and didn’t want to lie. But I also didn’t want to get punished. If he knew I ate the cookie and lied I would get double punishment and have greatly disappointed the man I loved. Grandfather and grandson were like two boxers circling in the ring. Testing each other to see who would blink first.

  My strategic decision was to go for complete innocence. I blurted, “No, I didn’t eat any cookies.” I could tell by the look on Grampy’s face he knew. But how did he know? Not only did I break the rules but I was a liar to boot. I had a sinking in the pit of my stomach. I knew I had done wrong and would be punished.

  Grampy saw a teachable moment and took it. He replied, “I think you did eat a cookie and you lied.” I couldn’t believe it: he called me a liar. I didn’t think he had it in him. How did he know? He went on. “Did you feel like you were doing something wrong? Did you feel like a little voice was telling you don’t do this?” I hung my head and whimpered, “Yes.” He continued, “Remember when we had a talk about right and wrong? That little voice was your conscience. In the future listen to that little voice. It will save you a lot of grief. Now wipe the chocolate chip off of your chin and go sit on the couch for twenty minutes and think about how you were disobedient and lied.”

  As I wiped my chin I noticed a big glob of chocolate chip on the napkin. What? The entire time I was telling Grampy I never took a bite of the cookie, I was standing there with the evidence that would convict me hanging from my chin. Adam’s downfall was the apple from Eve; mine was gooey chocolate chips from the cookie jar. I deserved my punishment and I knew it. But twenty whole minutes? I didn’t think I could focus on anything for twenty minutes. I was wrong. I sat on the couch for twenty minutes and thought about the delicious chocolate chip cookies. I guess I kind of missed the point of reflection.

  The lesson I learned from this was there is a time to be quiet, man up, and face the music. Talking only digs the hole deeper. One of the reasons why it would have been better to tell the truth is I wouldn’t have carried the guilt of lying all these years. I remember every detail of that incident and how bad I felt. Think of how much better it would have been to tell the truth, take my punishment, and move on, no guilty conscience. Unfortunately, Grampy was right about having a conscience.

  Grandfather went to church every Sunday. He would sit in the back and say his own prayers during the service. He took me on several occasions. I watched him as he closed his eyes, took his beads out of his pocket, and went into a deep meditative state. The first time he took me, I said, “Why were you quiet for so long? Were you sleeping?” He laughed and said he was praying. I asked him what a prayer was. He said prayer is just thinking about God. Grampy told me you didn’t have to talk out loud. You could just think about talking to God and it was the same as saying it.

  I asked him to tell me how to pray. Did I need the beads he had to pray? Grandfather told me the beads were called a rosary. This was a special prayer. He told me to think about things I was thankful for and just tell God thank you. He felt this should be everyone’s first prayer because we needed to be thankful for what God has given us. Things could change in a moment’s notice and we may not have that gift any more. Grampy said, “Bill, do you like to be thanked?” I said “Yes.” He said, “Well so does God.”

  Then he said our second prayer should be for things I needed help with and ask God for his help. I said, “You mean like hoping the bully falls and breaks his leg?” Grandfather said, “You shouldn’t wish for anything bad. Only pray for good things.” I questioned, “Why not? If we can ask God for good things then why not bad things?” He told me wishing for bad things only spreads evil and we should spread good. Grampy also said God will punish the bad people. We should leave that to Him. I said, “What if he needs some help? You know he is probably pretty busy with everyone praying to Him. I think I could help him punish some bad kids at school.” He said if we looked for trouble in life we would surely find it. Avoid trouble as much as you can. The other point he made about spreading evil was that those people are never happy. They spend their life trying to hurt others and they never have time to enjoy the good in the world. Let God get the revenge. You focus on doing good and being happy. I still wanted to see some kids get theirs.

  The third thing Grampy told me to pray for was people I knew who needed help. He said there are so many people who need our prayers. There were sick people, sad people, poor people, and hungry people. He said when we pray for people, God sees us trying to help others and he will help.

 

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