She sat directly across from me at the table. We were cousins at a family reunion. I didn't know her well. I really only knew of her. She is older than I am - a different generation. What I did know about her was that she had a gentle, humble personality, that she loved her God and Jesus Christ, and was a tireless worker in her church. I looked at her and thought, "blessed are the meek".
You just don't place two rather quiet people together at a table and expect great conversation! Our visit began with a little small-talk. And then she looked past me for a brief moment as if remembering something long ago. She was doing just that. Her next sentence came from seemingly nowhere to me, but for her it came from deep within. "I don't know why my mother and father never took me to church. I have never understood that." She looked at me with the eyes of a child, not those of her actual years. She went on to say "If it had not been for Uncle Fred, I would never have gone to church". She now had my undivided attention for her "Uncle Fred" was my grandfather ... my Granddaddy Murdock.
As she continued, she told of my grandfather "showing up" at their house early one Sunday morning. He wanted to take her to church. He waited for her to get dressed. She didn't know what to expect. She was just a little girl. Each week he continued to stop by her house to take her to Sunday School. She told of the fun that she had and the friends that she made as a young child. She told of the youth group that became so important to her as a teenager. She told of the impact of those days on her life now as an adult.
I have only the memories of my grandfather through the eyes of the thirteen-year-old that I was when he passed away. What I do know of him was that he was soft-spoken, a little eccentric, a poet and musician, inquisitive, and an inventor. He was a Biblical scholar by his own study and knowledgeable well beyond his limited years of education. None of what I knew before about him was as important as what she was sharing with me.
That day, my cousin not only added to what I knew of my grandfather, but also taught me a great lesson as she bore witness to the importance of involvement in the lives of others. My grandfather, slightly over 5 feet tall, quiet and humble, made a world of difference in one child's life that Sunday morning many years ago. As she shared her story, I heard the words once again, this time in light of my grandfather - "blessed are the meek". There is strength in meekness. There is resoluteness in meekness. There is the heart of Jesus in meekness. And there is doing the will of God in meekness.
I'm humming as I type this morning - as I share with you the lasting effects of this one act of kindness long ago - that one "spark". The song seems to "fit".
It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
And soon all those around can warm up in its glowing.
That's how it is with God's love once you've experienced it;
You spread His love to everyone; you want to pass it on.
Know that to make a world of difference in a child's life is to make a difference in this world. It only takes a spark!
anna
