The Smallest Good Deed

I came to live with my Gram and Grampy when I was just eight months old. My parents brought my two sisters and me to live at a Christian home for girls in Manchester, NH on Sept 5, 1967. My sister Lisa was two, and my oldest sister, Robyn, was four. We lived at Boylston Home for Girls until I was seven years old.

Gram and Grampy had retired as directors and houseparents the year I turned seven, as well, so there were many changes happening at once. My parents had willingly left us at the home, so they still retained their rights all those years. My mother had moved to D.C., and my father married my stepmother and lived locally. I wouldn’t have recognized my birth mother if I'd seen her on the street, and my father would visit sporadically. Toward the end of our time at the home, he was back in our lives consistently with his new wife, which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

I desperately missed Gram and Grampy when they left! I believe the memory of them leaving at night to move away was the first time I had ever felt a “broken heart” within me. I looked out the window and cried, saying their names over and over again. When I was found in the music room, I said I was crying because our dog, Benji, wasn’t feeling well. There are just some times when the truth of our hurt is too precious to share with anyone.

Life changed, and new houseparents came to live at the home with all us girls. We weren’t used to them, and they weren’t used to us. I believe they really tried, but patience often ran thin with all there was to do. Instead of smooth, happy days, we had new rules, and the house hiccupped along with stops and starts, moody silences and occasional angry outbursts. It seemed like we were all just trying to make it through the day.

A short time later, my father appeared at the home late at night to take my sisters and I away “forever” as he put it. A wonderful man, who was on the Board of Directors at the time drove over to try to stop my father, but there was nothing he could do. I was extremely frightened of my father through the years, anyway, but that night I just prayed and hoped we wouldn’t have to go with him. We girls were eventually loaded into the car, and my father and stepmother sped away with us.

We drove for what seemed a long time. My sisters and I sat in silence, not daring to speak. Suddenly, my father turned off the main road and into a parking lot I recognized. It was the new home of Gram and Grampy! They were waiting for us at the top of the stairs! It had seemed like forever since I had seen them, but they welcomed us girls in with open arms! I was a tiny seven year old, and Grampy scooped my up into his arms, like he had always done. We were home!

That wasn’t the end of the story, by far, but it was a night of hope, reunification and rest like I hadn’t known for a long time. My sisters and I were content. Whatever the next days would bring didn’t matter at that moment in time.

Three exhausted little girls were eventually put to bed. The nightlight glowed softly, and I could see a poster hanging on the opposite wall. It had a picture of a blond toddler child touching a fluffy yellow baby chick, with a caption that said, “The smallest good deed is better than the grandest good intention.”

I’ve never forgotten that poster all these years. I drifted off to sleep focusing on the image and the words. I was home, and I felt like that little child in a warm meadow with flowers all around. I was at peace.

Gram and Grampy could have turned us away that night. They could have said, “Look, we’re in our sixties and we’re retired. We did our work for the Lord, and now it’s our time to do what we want.” They didn’t, and they never ceased to hold out a welcoming hand to anyone in need. Gram still desires to reach out to anyone who could use a word of encouragement or an uplifting verse.

The smallest good deed is better than the grandest good intention.

At night, Gram and I pray together. Gram’s prayers always include thanksgiving to the Lord for all His gifts and prayers for loved ones and friends. I kiss her on the head as we say good-night, and I tell her I love her. I remind her that she always told us girls, “Love is for keeps”. I want her to know I remember her words. If I have any compassion inside me, it was due to Gram’s love and direction, which was possible because she allowed the Lord to work through her life and her words.

James 3:17, 18
But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy, and the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.

I thank a merciful and loving Father for making something beautiful out of something tragic. We had the blessing of being left in the care of a couple who had the wisdom and the gentleness written of in the book of James. Gram and Grampy’s small, ‘good deeds’ made a profound change in the world around them.