The pages of my grandmotherís Bible are not crisp and new.
They are soft; they are well worn.
The pages were turned by the hands of a Godly woman.
The same gentle hands that picked me up when I fell down.
The same hands that played such beautiful music upon the piano.
The pages have underlined verses and notes contained within them.
Names of children, grandchildren, great and even great-great-grandchildren can be found there.
Dates of when each was born; dates of when some were married; even dates of when some passed on.
My grandmother loved that Bible; she read it every single day.
With all of her heart, my grandmother loved the redeemer of whom the Bible spoke of.
Our Jesus, our Savior, who was sent to save this world.
That Bible traveled with my grandmother many times to Tennessee to Florida and then back again.
My grandmother would gladly let all who wanted to, read her Bible.
She never hesitated to share the good Word.
Some pages have spots from tears that have been cried over them.
Some tears were hers, some were mine that fell while I looked over those pages reminiscing.
I pray that one day, my granddaughter will look through the pages of my Bible.
Hopefully, she will find those pages to be worn, noted, cried upon, and loved.
I was just in our family bible today placing a rose from my brothers funeral. Like you say the pages are well worn and full of momentos of the past. It is so special because it is Jesus ! Wonderful article !
A beautiful remembrance, Melissa. Bibles are wonderful repositories of memories, prayers and family stories. I have the bible that my grandmother gave to my mother when my mother was 11 years old. It was a Christmas present, given to all 8 kids in the family that had a special meaning because my grandmother died on the operating table a few days before that Christmas, and it was the last thing that my mother had from her mother. I included that memory in a song that I wrote:
"All that I have is my grandfather's hammer
And his old railroad watch with the casing all worn
And the bible my grandmother
bought her last Christmas
That she gave to my mother, now she's passed it on"
Some may leave money from a lifetime of saving
Some just their name on a marble stone
It's not what you leave, it's the joy of remembering
And all I can leave you is a handful of songs"
Handful of Songs by Jerry Rasmussen
It sounds like you have the "joy of remembering."