A Tribute (from 2000)

I came across this poem I had written for my little Gram ten years ago. I was a foster parent, myself, at the time. I thought I would share it now:

A Tribute (by Elizabeth Biggar Kelly)

The stairs seemed a little steeper as she carried the babe
Up the flight and to the room where gently she laid
Her down in her crib, then kissed her and prayed
Thanking God that through her vessel, His love He conveyed

Her white hair she let down and put her feet up at last
She prayed for the future and remembered the past
"Thou promised strength for today and surely Thou hast
been faithful from the first moment unto the last"

She looked at her husband and thanked God for one
Who had a passion to love and care for the young
He was valiant, yet tender, both funny and strong
Yes, theirs was a team she was glad to be on

These children they loved, from the youngest to old
Each came with mistrust and wounds from the cold
Day that brought them there needing her hand to hold
And harboring pain that could never be told

Sleep for tonight would be fleeting, at best
Soon there'd be breakfast to make and girls to get dressed
Then the house would buzz like a busy bee's nest
Her heart would be full, her life was so blessed!

Then she and the baby would begin the day
The house would be quiet, the dishes away
They would sing and read and sit down to play
She couldn't have known how close they would stay

For through the years as the little girl grew
She watched the old woman, and in her heart knew
She was living a life that was giving and true
And her heart whispered softly, "I want to be like you"

The young girl grew older and life hardened her heart
It was tough and mistrusting except for the part
That was kept safe from the rage and hurt's fiery dart
The love from the woman would never depart

Soon the girl was grown with her own busy home
She gave to her children, her daughters and sons
Those things she had learned and the love she had known
From the woman who held her when she felt alone

The vision remains in the girl's heart to this day
As she kisses boo-boo's and wipes tears away
From sweet, strange little faces who suffer and pay
For mistakes made by big people, and those who don't stay

The stairs seem a little steeper as she carries the babe
up the flight and to the room where gently she lays
Him down in his crib, then kisses him and prays
Thanking God that through her vessel, His love He conveys

"Thank you, Gram, for touching so many lives. I love you."

Without Fault, Before the Throne of God

Minerva G. Beal

October 16, 1911 - January 8, 2010

On the morning of January 8, 2010, Gram's spirit broke free from her earthly body and soared away to Glory. I can only imagine the rapture, the joy, the freedom she experienced as she was able to run, yes, run into the arms of her Savior, her mother, her husband and daughter. I imagine a tentative step toward the son who had left earth as a little baby. Maybe a step forward, and then, perhaps he strode toward her and embraced her, saying, "Mother, I've waited so long!" Yes, the wait was finally over. Sisters, brother, friends, loved ones. And her Lord Jesus Christ. I have no doubt that she fell at his feet and worshiped Him, thanking Him for his faithfulness and lovingkindness, for she did that daily by faith, when she was here on earth.

I know I will have to wait for my own time to come when I can thank her for all she has done. I would like to write her a little "letter" here, though she already knew how much she meant. I told her often.

Gram...you were my Mama from as far back as I can remember. You were loving, tender and gentle. You prayed with me and for me. My tiny hands would touch your soft face as we would sit together in a chair as life swirled around us. I would stare into your eyes as you held me close and told me about Jesus. As I grew I watched you do your hair in the morning. You would talk to me and tell me things. I would follow you around that big house as you did laundry, cooked, talked on the phone and entertained visitors. I would sit with you in church, knowing you would give me a mint after the service. I loved your face, I loved your heart, and I loved you because you loved me, and in my heart, you were my mother. Thank you, Gram, for wanting me to be your baby.

I grew up, as babies do, and I knew you were getting older. As a young woman I came to visit you almost daily to help you around the house. You always had a to-do list ready, but we really spent hours and hours talking about the past, present and future. The day would fly by, and we would look at the clock, wondering where the time went. Thank you, Gram for telling me your stories.

Time marched on, and I lived my own life and did my own thing. Whenever we spoke, you reminded me that you prayed for me daily. I always left with peace, a verse and assurance that you never forgot me. Even as recent as last year, you quoted a verse to me that changed my life: (II Chronicles 7:14) If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. I pondered that verse for a few weeks, and threw myself on the mercy of the Lord. I had come back to my first Love, and called home to let you know it all started when you gave me that scripture verse. My message was passed on to you, and then I received a call asking if I would be willing to come back as your caregiver. I was more than willing, and so I came back as your daughter. Thank you, Gram, for consistently pointing me toward Christ.

As I moved back home, sleeping in the bedroom of my youth, I would thank the Lord that he had brought me back to you. The most important time of day for us was in the quietness of your bedroom, having devotions and praying together. On January 7, the evening before you passed away, we read from the Daily Light. The last paragraph I was ever able to read to you said, "The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; He will save, He will rejoice over thee with joy; He will rest in his love, He will joy over thee with singing" Zephaniah 3:17. Then we prayed together. I was able to record your prayer on my cell phone that night, something I had never done before. You prayed, in that poetic way that you always had, with each word dressed in the love you had for your Savior:

Our Heavenly Father,
We thank Thee,
We know that Thou art available, Lord,
Willing to hear us if we are to call upon Thee.
Let us be faithful in calling, receiving Thy answers,
And in letting Thee speak to us according to Thy will.
We thank Thee for all things good that come from Thy Hand.
In Jesus' name, Amen.

The next morning, you were gone:

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
there are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout;

"Here she comes!"
by Henry van Dyke (1852 - 1933)

I love you little Gram. Until we meet again..."Love is for keeps!"

Now Unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen
(Jude 24, 25)