Proof The Bible Is True

Books, knickknacks and memorabilia crowded Grandpa’s cellar. Old newspapers and magazines stacked waist high. My father and I worked in the thick of it. We’d come from Grandpa’s funeral that morning, as good a time as any, we thought, to sort through his things.

 

I’d hoped the job would make me feel close to him. But instead Grandpa had never felt so far away. Dad sifted through a pile of papers. I couldn’t focus. “Is everything all right, David?” Dad asked.

 

“I guess it’s just hitting me that we’ll never see him again.”

 

Dad didn’t respond. He was staring down at something he’d come across. Whatever it was seemed to have swept him away. “Dad?”

 

He looked up at me. “Make no mistake, David,” he said. “We’re close to the people we love even when they seem like they’re far away.”

 

Dad handed me the object that had grabbed his imagination: a dusty, yellowed Burpee Seed calendar from 1943. “Why do you think Grandpa saved this?” I asked, turning over the delicate old calendar in my hand.

 

It opened to the month of February. The sixth was circled and noted with Grandpa’s penciled script. “Can you make out what it says?” I asked Dad. He took the calendar from me.

“First I’ve got a story for you.” Dad moved some books aside and sat down in Grandpa’s old rocking chair.

 

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