A Moment of Gratitude
My Grandad, dear Papa, lie resting in his bed.
His hands now wrinkled by the passing of time were across his chest.
Grandma sat in a corner watching every breath,
knowing it soon would be his last.
Ten children, she counted them on her fingers.
They were all grown now.
She and Papa hadn’t talked a lot over the years.
Life had silenced so many voices.
Grandma looked down and across Papa’s chest under his hands was a little book.
She could see a note sticking out with her name on it.
Gently, she unfolded it. Her eyes fell on a message which
simply read, “Sarah, thank you.”
Rev. Alice
