"Grandkids"

Old folks calling grandkids,

Laughing, all y’all come here,

And the children come running,

Into hugs with no fear.

And those kisses from grandma,

And from grandpa are sweet,

And the kids stay for stories,

As they sit at their feet.

‘Bout times of hot summer,

When they swam in the creek,

And long hours of fishing,

That they spent once a week.

They spoke of hog killings,

When the weather got cold,

And stacking that firewood,

Worth its weight in gold.

Of quilts in soft layers,

Warmed bricks at their feet,

With eggs, from scratch biscuits,

In the morning to eat.

Every day milking early,

From an old cow named Bess,

And churning real butter,

Without making a mess.

When they used an old outhouse,

And drank from a well,

Went to church in a buggy,

To hear all sing and tell,

Of the way of salvation,

With an old altar call,

Down front at a mourner’s bench,

Grace offered to all.

Then down to the river,

To get souls baptized,

And shouts from all gathered,

When from the water they rise.

Then home for fried chicken,

There was always enough,

Sometimes fed the preacher,

Even when times were tough.

No cell phones or TV,

Just an old radio,

Gathered ‘round in the parlor,

To hear music you know.

And the grandkids sit wide-eyed,

As they listen in awe,

As if hearing a tall tale,

But what the old lived and saw.

Can we ever recapture,

Those sweet, simple times,

Or are they reduced,

To just stories and rhymes?

I say we work at it,

We try and we pray,

‘Cause there’s just so much value,

In that yesterday.

And maybe with mercy,

The Good Lord will bless,

With a life much more simple,

Where having more means much less.

"Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?" (Job 12:12)

I wish I had taken better advantage of time spent with my grandparents. So many things they experienced are now lost to memory because most, if not all, of their generation have passed on. My Grandaddy was born in 1901. His grandfather fought in the Civil War, or the War of Northern Agression, as they called it. Think of the changes he saw in his lifetime. My Granny was saved in a horse-drawn buggy while on the way to a brush arbor revival meeting. She actually saw a burning bush and in that moment trusted Jesus. She was fourteen. How many more stories would I know if I had thought to ask them? God speaks wisdom from His Word, but His Word tells us we find wisdom among the aged as well.

Lord, help us benefit from the wisdom of others, in Jesus’ name.

Art by Shawn Cameron, used by permission. Thanks, Shawn, and God bless. you.