Today I present Part 4 of this year’s Christmas story. I hope it provides a pleasant break from the busyness of the holiday season. The final part will be posted next Friday. You can find the entire story at this page, along with all of the other Growing4Life Christmas stories.
“Well, are you ready to go, Tara Tomato?” My grandfather stood by the door with keys in hand. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity, as picnics and get-togethers were held in my honor. I had not only met aunts and uncles and cousins, but I had also met second-cousins, great-aunts and great-uncles, neighbors, church family and even my great-grandmother, my grandfather’s mother.
Getting to meet Grandma Matilda was a wonderful surprise. Energetic and vibrant at the age of 93, she had asked if I would come and help her with “a little project” one afternoon. She had a big box of old photos and she wanted to put some of them in an album for my grandfather’s upcoming birthday. We spent the afternoon getting to know each other over hot tea and photos. I found out an awful lot about my dad’s side of the family that day. I think that was exactly what my great-grandmother had in mind.
But woven throughout the week was the knowledge that, at some point, I needed to face my dad. Grandpa had informed me yesterday that he thought today would be the best day as any and so I had spent the night sleeping little as I tried to work up my courage. There really are no words to describe what I was feeling.
Mom had especially asked if I would take my dad her Bible. Even though she had only started reading it a few months before she left this earth, she had marked and underlined and made notes in many different sections, particularly the books of Psalms, John, and Philippians. She had also written Dad a long letter, which was inside a sealed envelope and tucked inside its cover.
Interestingly enough, she told me that she had never stopped loving my dad and that was why she had never remarried. I was rather shocked to hear this, as I had always thought she had married my dad out of convenience. I found out a lot of things I never knew those last few weeks of mom’s life. She shared with me that her greatest hope was that my dad would come around again to give their life together a second chance. But he never did. She revealed that this was her life’s greatest sorrow. Giving my dad that Bible with her personal letter was Mom’s final message to the only man she had ever loved.
My thoughts returned to the present and my heart started beating just a bit faster.
“Okay, Grandpa, I’ll be right there,” I got up from the table where I had been eating breakfast and walked back to my room.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ride along, Betty? He is your son, too,” I heard Grandpa say.
My grandma mumbled something in return that I couldn’t hear, but she didn’t go with us so I guess she decided it was best for just Grandpa and me to go.
Soon we were on the road and heading north out of town. As we traveled, the houses grew further apart and, on either side of the road, tall trees lifted their branches to the sky. We made a series of turns, until we found ourselves on a dirt road going up through a mountain. The ground was covered in bright green ferns, with innumerable pine trees providing the thick shade that was necessary for them to grow. We crossed over a picturesque stream and soon came to a dirt driveway. The mailbox beside it had the number 247 on it.
“I think this is it,” said Grandpa as he pulled into the driveway.
He stopped the car and looked at me tenderly, “Shall we take just a moment to pray about this together?”
I was surprised but grateful he had thought to pray, “Yes, please,” I whispered.
Grandpa asked the Lord to be with us and to soften dad’s heart. He asked that Dad would be open to the Gospel and that we could restore our relationship with him. And then he prayed for me specifically, that I wouldn’t be too hurt if things didn’t go as I hoped. My throat caught a bit when he said that. I knew that I would be devastated if my dad rejected me.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said and we headed up the driveway. We traveled for a few minutes through thick woods and then came to a little clearing where a little cabin stood. We could hear dogs furiously barking to alert their master of our arrival.
We both got out of the car together. In my hand, I held a small bag that contained Mom’s Bible and some of dad’s favorite chocolate chip cookies, that Grandma had made especially for him.
Grandpa knocked on the door and it was opened by a man with a bushy beard and longish hair who looked slightly familiar. Two well-trained German Shepherds stood quietly at his side.
“Oh, hey, dad. So you were able to find this place?“ the man said with a wry smile and then he stopped and stared at me.
I tried to say something, but the words got stuck in my throat.
“Tara? Is that you all grown up?” My dad asked in disbelief.
“Yes, this is your daughter, Ray,” my Grandpa said rather firmly.
My dad’s eyes welled up with tears and he grabbed my hand warmly but then he backed away and his face took on a hard look.
It would be hard to describe the next few minutes, which were awkward and difficult, to say the least. Dad didn’t really ask me much about myself and he shared very little about himself with me. I tried to explain about mom and give him her last massage. When I handed him the Bible, I did catch a small glimpse of…something. I know he felt something when I gave him her Bible but the tenderness in his eyes was soon replaced with that hard look again.
I made efforts to talk about his life and about my life and about the Lord but he seemed totally disinterested and, perhaps, even slightly antagonistic when the topic of the Lord came up. I looked at Grandpa, who gave me a sad smile, as if to acknowledge the overwhelming disappointment I was feeling.
After about a half hour, my dad grew antsy and said, “Okay, well, I need to run to town for some supplies today, so…”
Grandpa stood at Dad’s not-so-subtle end to our time together and we were soon back in the car.
“Well, that was awkward,” I sighed. I just felt like weeping.
“I was afraid it would go like that,” said my Grandpa and then he added, “Ray has built a thick wall around his heart and he doesn’t know how to even begin tearing it down. If only he would turn to God. He’s the only one who can help him at this point.”
I saw tears in Grandpa’s eyes as he spoke those wise words and knew that he was hurting for his son as much as I was hurting for my dad. I am thankful that, in that moment, I was able to recognize that my dad wasn’t rejecting me personally but, rather, that he was fighting his own battles that had nothing to do with me. It still hurt terribly but it somehow helped a bit to recognize this. I believe this realization was God’s answer to Grandpa’s prayer for me earlier in the car.
We made our way back to town in silence and when we got home, I went to my room. I could hear Grandpa and Grandma talking quietly beyond my bedroom door. I lay there until I fell asleep.
“Oh, we have just loved having you here! Please do come back and visit! And bring that brother of yours with you!” Grandpa and Grandma hugged me and fussed over me as I prepared to leave. Grandma had baked me chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie, strawberry cream scones, and cinnamon coffee cake to take back home, all which were loaded into a box in the backseat. She had also sent a cooler filled with single dish meals for me to put in my freezer. They were all filled with cheese and cream and they looked absolutely delicious.
“Grandma, are you trying to make me fat?” I joked.
She gave me a wink and said conspiratorially, “I think you could do with a little more meat on those bones.”
We all laughed as I got in the car and rolled down the window.
“Let’s keep praying for your dad, sweetheart. It says in the Good Book that with God nothing is impossible*. He can break down that wall your daddy has built around his heart,” Grandpa reminded me. He had been encouraging me to pray for Dad since we left his house last week and I had committed to doing so.
And then Grandpa leaned over by car and added earnestly, “We are serious and not just saying it, Tara, please do come back. Now that we have you in our lives again, we don’t want to lose you,”
“I will be back. I promise.”
“When?” My grandma demanded with a smile.
“Christmas,” I said without thinking, “I’ll be back at Christmas.”
They loved that idea and so with a promise to return in a few months, I started the drive back to my lonely life.
*Luke 1:37