Your Children’s Children

I look up at the clock. 6:45. Fifteen minutes to go. Seems like an eternity to wait. I tip-toe over to the door of my sister’s bedroom and peek in. Unable to restrain myself, I scurry over to the side of her bed and tap her lightly on the arm.

“Vi,” I whisper softly. Too softly. “Vi,” I say again, louder this time. “Violet!” She turns over and stares up at me groggily. “It’s almost 7! Get up!”

Groaning, she rolls back over. “Go ‘way,” she mutters.

“But remember, Nana and Grumpa are here!” I exclaim, shaking her this time.

The sleep falls away from her as she springs upright and smiles broadly. “Oh, yeah!” She jumps out of bed and we make our way downstairs, wincing at every creak of the floor. I glance at the clock again. 6:55. Nearly there now! We inch our way quietly to the door of the guest bedroom just as a loud snore echoes from inside. We look at each other and giggle.

“Who gets to poke her on the nose?” I whisper.

“I want to!” My little sister exclaims rather loudly.

“Shhhhh!” I sigh. “Alright. But tomorrow morning, it’s my turn.”

We crack open the door. 6:58. Surely it’s close enough now! We skitter over to the side of the bed just as another snore erupts from beneath the covers. Stifling another giggle, my sister reaches towards our grandmother’s nose and pokes it firmly. The heavy breathing stops. Slowly, my grandmother opens her eyes, one at a time. We smile at her expectantly, a smile which she sleepily returns. “Well, come on in,” she says, and lifts her arm to allow us to crawl under the covers beside her. We snuggle in happily. A few minutes pass in silence before my grandmother asks, “What story shall I tell you today?”

–

Some mornings it was Jack and the Beanstalk, others it was Cinderella. But not quite the traditional stories– always with little twists. Maybe Jack and Cinderella met in the woods one day and he convinced her to climb his beanstalk. Maybe at the top of the beanstalk there was a golden-haired princess with a pet goose that laid golden eggs.

Morning storytime will always be one of my fondest childhood memories of my grandmother. From the time my sister and I were little, she was always telling us stories, reading to us from collections of poetry or The Chronicles of Narnia, and showing us pictures of beautiful castles she’d saved on her desktop. She knew how to connect with us, and to this day she still often sends me poems or pictures she’s saved of ballerinas or magnificent mansions.

These memories of my grandmother came to mind during a recent conversation I was having with my mother-in-law (who is a new grandmother herself!). She shared that she’s talked with a lot of the grandparents at her church who feel like they’ve never had the best connection with their grandchildren, or who feel like the connection they once had fizzled once their grandchildren grew up. A lot of them felt as if they were no longer needed once their grandchildren approached their teen years. They felt as if they were in the way and perhaps needed to take a step back.

She resolved that the opposite is actually true. A child’s teenage years tend to be some of the most tumultuous and confusing– years during which children will listen to almost anyone better than they’ll listen to their parents. The transition from child to adult is without exception a sensitive and formative time, a time when young minds are crowded with all sorts of influences, positive and negative. The positive influence of devout and godly grandparents could be what keeps a teen from tottering over the edge.

The wisdom of the older generations is nothing to disdain. And the blessing of having a relationship with your children’s children is nothing to take for granted.

I pray that one day, if the Lord wills, I too will get to watch my children’s children grow in stature and in true faith. I pray that one day, it will be my joy to wake up to my grandchild tapping me on the nose.

Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD,
Who walks in His ways.
When you eat the labor of your hands,
You shall be happy, and it shall be well with you.
Your wife shall be like a fruitful vine
In the very heart of your house,
Your children like olive plants
All around your table.
Behold, thus shall the man be blessed
Who fears the LORD.
The LORD bless you out of Zion,
And may you see the good of Jerusalem
All the days of your life.
Yes, may you see your children’s children.

Peace be upon Israel!

Psalm 128