24. Saying Grace
Years ago when my grandson Zack was four, I went with him and his mother, Dara, and their dog, Holly, on a tent camping vacation together. During our stay in Boone, North Carolina, old friends John and Betty Johannaber drove up from Atlanta and stayed at a nearby motel for two nights in order to be able to hang out with us.
One morning we put Holly in a kennel so that we could all go out to breakfast. As we sat in the restaurant, I said to Zack, “Remember when you and I held hands and said one thing we were glad for? Why don’t we do that here?” I reached for his hand, and Betty and John and and Dara held hands too. The people at the table next to us quieted down and the waitresses stood back for a minute and we went around the table, each saying something we were glad for. At the end we said, “Amen.”
Then we went on and were served and talked of other things. In a little while, as the conversation became more and more adult-oriented, Zack suddenly reached for my hand and Dara’s hand and said, “Let’s do the ‘glad for’ thing again.”
During that breakfast we did the ‘glad for’ thing four times.
I sometimes forget to say grace, especially living alone. I remember Bishop C. Dale White saying that it was when he started to travel and saw people all over the world in desperation—that that was when he recognized for himself the need for saying grace at every meal.
It’s something I learn and forget and learn and forget over and over.
