My Pennsylvania Grandmother

On Flag Day (June 14th) of this year, I thought of a story that I wanted to share. Being the procrastinator that I am at times, I am finally doing that today. My paternal grandmother, Helen, was born on Flag Day in 1906. She would have celebrated 107 years of life this year. As I thought about my grandmother on her birthday, I remembered our story. I didn't meet my grandmother in person until my early twenties. My mom and dad divorced when I was very young. My grandmother lived in Pennsylvania and I lived in Alabama so there was no opportunity for us to see each other. During my childhood, she would send birthday cards to my maternal grandmother's house. My mamma (pronounced ma-maw) would give me the cards when they arrived in the mail.  They were always signed "Your Pennsylvania Grandmother." I would read the card and know that somewhere there lived a lady that was my grandmother and that she had remembered my birthday. 

In the early eighties, I had the opportunity to meet my grandmother in person. She, my Aunt Margaret and Aunt Margie all made the trip from Pennsylania.  It was great to finally meet her and my aunts. Later, I went to Pennsylvania with my dad, stepmom and sister for a visit. Beautiful place. Nice people. It was great to see my grandmother again and to meet other members of the family.



My Pennsylvania Grandmother, Helen

Over the years, my grandmother and I kept in touch by mail.  As a young stay-at-home mom with preschoolers, getting mail was an exciting part of the day. (Even if the only thing we received was bills.) It was even better if I received a letter from my grandmother.

My grandmother's handwriting was very neat. All of the letters were formed properly and all slanted the same way. Having been a teacher in her early days, she always used proper grammar and punctuation. In her letters, she would always mention how the weather was in Pennsylvania.  She would tell me about the trees and flowers that were blooming in the spring, about how much snow that had fallen in the winter. I still have all of her letters.

Today in our society, writing letters has become a lost art for some. We text, we email, we skype, we call. There are so many ways to keep in touch. Do you remember the last time you received a letter? Did you get excited as you opened it? Did you enjoy reading it? In the old, old, old days, handwritten letters were the only way to keep in touch. And the mail (what we now refer to as snail mail) could take days or even weeks to arrive. But oh, the excitement and joy when a letter would arrive. Everyone would gather around to hear the news from far away.  



Four Generations
 

With the distance between us, I didn't get to see my grandmother very often. I am thankful she was able to meet my husband and was part of my life when my children were born. My Pennsylvania grandmother is no longer with us but her legacy lives on in her children, their children and so on.  As for me, I think it is time to read a few of her letters and take notes. Start watching your mailbox. I may be sending something your way soon.  And, by the way, we've had a lot of rain lately but the sun was shining bright today.  

The Conversation

The other day I met a nice older gentleman in the building where I work. We have a bank on the first floor so I went down during my lunch break to make a deposit. When the elevator door opened, I saw a man sitting on the bench in the foyer.  (I'm going to call him Bert.) We smiled at each other and then I went in the bank. On my way out, I noticed that he was still there. We smiled again and then I pushed the elevator button to go back upstairs.

I didn't want to be rude so I turned around and said hi. Bert and I started talking. He mentioned how nice it was in Baldwin County. He had just moved from Birmingham and said things were really bad there. I told him that my mom lived in Montgomery. He then started telling me about getting robbed recently. The elevator door opened and then closed. We kept talking.

Bert's first comment was about the news article reporting that he was eighty years old. I asked him if that was true.  He said yes. (Bert did not look eighty. He could have passed for sixty any day.) Bert continued his story.

Bert had recently purchased a storage container in a building in Birmingham. One morning he went to the building to check on the container. A young man approached him and then pulled out a gun to rob him. Bert told the young man to go ahead and kill him but to think about it first. Would he rather go to jail for robbery or murder? The young man must have decided robbery because instead of shooting Bert, he locked him in the storage container.

While Bert is telling me his story, several people are coming through the foyer going to the bank or upstairs. The elevator opens and closes a few times. Bert keeps talking.

There was not much space in the container. Bert said it was dark and he could barely move. After a day or two had passed, he decided it was time to talk with God. He could tell that the air was getting scarce in the container and it was getting harder to breathe. He asked God for one more big breath. He didn't want to die like this but wanted to have at least one more big breath before the air ran out. As soon as he finished praying, Bert said he felt a big rush of wind. He said it felt like a strong wind during a storm. I could see that Bert knew that God had answered his prayer and saved his life. I told him that God had other plans for him. He agreed.

Bert has a daughter in the area and moved to Baldwin County to be near her and get away from Birmingham. He was at the bank taking care of his financial business. One of the guys from my office came in and pushed the elevator button. I told Bert goodbye because it was time to get back upstairs. He told me to tell my mother hello.

I went upstairs and searched for an article on al.com about an eighty year old man getting robbed in Birmingham. I found it right away. He was robbed and locked up on Saturday and his son found him on Tuesday.

As I was talking with Bert, I was wondering why I met him. I think it was to share his story with you. God answered Bert's prayer and saved him. He can do the same for you and me.