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A Grandpa's Love
By Scot Thurman
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I stared from the deck of my hotel room, intrigued. An older gentleman
was assisting a young girl as she struggled to walk down the beach. He
must be her grandfather, I thought. Somehow, I was drawn to the drama of
the twosome, and winced as she fell. The graying man helped her to her
feet, and she continued painstakingly plodding through the sand.
That evening, as I ate in the hotel restaurant, and watched as the same
young girl proceeded to get up from the table and reach for her walker.
She grasped it firmly with both hands, and leaning heavily, she made her
way out of the restaurant, smiling as she went.
As I sipped my coffee in the lobby the next morning, I noticed a sign
tacked to the announcement board. "Special Olympics Relays." Ah, I
thought, that must be what the walking lessons are all about.
Over the next three days, I watched as the grandfather patiently worked
with his student. "You can do it, Sweetheart. Let's get up and try again."
And at this encouragement, she would struggle again to her feet.
On the morning of the Olympics, as I visited with friends in the lobby, a
beautiful bouquet of roses was delivered to the front desk. The girl soon
appeared for her delivery, her face brightening at the sight. She smiled
as she read the card.
As she walked away, the card slipped from her fingers and she continued
down the hallway. I stepped quickly to retrieve it, glancing at the
handwritten words as I hurried after her, "To my sweet Elizabeth – you
have been the greatest encouragement to my heart these last few days. I
love and am proud of you. Win or lose, you will always be my little
miracle from God. Love, Grandpa." She had disappeared around the corner,
so I put the card in my pocket to give to her later.
Now attached to the little girl and her grandpa, I felt compelled to watch
her Olympic event – a quarter-mile. She definitely was a fighter. I
cheered as she crossed the finish line – second place. She smiled as she
stood on the awards platform, and a tear slipped down her cheek as the
medal was placed around her neck. She told the crowd, "I especially want
to thank my grandpa for believing in me when I had no one else."
I found her later and returned her card. I said, "Congratulations!" As we
talked, she revealed that she and her parents were hit by a drunk driver
three years prior. She was the only survivor. Her grandfather shook my
hand and said, "By the grace of God alone, this little girl is alive and
able to accomplish what she did today."
Elizabeth smiled and hugged her grandpa. "Everyone gave up hope that I
would ever walk again. My grandpa was the only one who didn't."
Reprinted by permission of Scot
Thurman © 1994 from Chicken Soup for the Grandparent's Soul by Jack
Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch McCarty and Meladee McCarty. In order
to protect the rights of the copyright holder, no portion of this
publication may be reproduced without prior written consent. All rights
reserved.
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