The Sailor in the Picture

Even now, though it's been over fifty years, I can close my eyes and my memory will transport me back in time. The afternoon is hot ;the room is darkened to keep the bright Sun from baking us any more than it already is. But even though it's hot I'm sitting as close to my grandmother as is physically possible and she doesn't push me away, instead she places her arm around my shoulder and invites me to rest my head on her bosom. In this place of deep comfort we begin to talk about our favorite subject, the picture of the sailor.

The picture is hanging on the wall across from us. I think the sailor is the most handsome man in the world. I ask my grandmother again to tell me the stories that she has so often repeated. A smile crosses her face she closes her eyes and begins to see the sailor through the eyes of a mother. My eyes are wide open taking in every detail of the sailor in the picture yet my heart now beats in cadence with that of my grandmother.

My grandmother's memory has taken her to the year 1925. Times are turbulent and she worries that the baby she holds in her arms will not thrive. She does what she can, she gives all that she has, she watches him grow. She remembers with a tear the first he walked away from her. She stood watching at the door it was his first day of school. He walked away with the other children but then turned and ran back to give her one last hug.

Many years have pasted the sailor in the picture is now defined not only by the tender memories of his mother or even the admiration of his daughter but by the life he has lives. When I look at my father I see a man who taught me what grace means. A man who not only thrived but became a blessing to all who know him.

Heavenly Father, You have filled my life with so many blessings and so much grace. Thank You for giving me the privilege of being the daughter of the sailor in the picture.