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| my Grandparents' wedding |
My grandad was a gentle man and a gentleman. Kind and patient, a Godly man, his life testified to his faith.
Born in 1900, he was one of the generation to see their whole lives changed by the Great War, so many friends and cousins lost, the whole fabric of society torn asunder and remade.
For him, a greater tragedy was to follow. Serving in India, he contracted an incurable malady, some kind of infection or infestation which was to continue to plague him his whole life.
But I never heard him complain.
He must have had his dark days, his times of doubt and wondering why. But I never heard them. He was my patient Grandad, buying us stamps for our collections. Children of the sixties, we didn't understand why we collected stamps but it was something we could share with him.
He loved to make things with his hands, things to share. I remember a wooden table and benches for our garden and painted wooden animals, which my children have played with in turn. He never met them but I have tried to tell them of his life, to share with them his faith. God give me the grace to follow his example, to accept and give thanks for my lot and to use God's gifts to bless others.
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| One of Grandad's paintings |
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