Lynda stopped the car in front of the elementary school. She hurried to the passenger side and helped her father to get out of the car.
“You sure Caleb wants me to come?” Using his walker, Dad edged up the sidewalk.
Lynda tried to hurry him a little. “Of course he does.” She seated him on a bench inside. “Stay put, Dad.” She ran to park the car.
Hope we survive. Linda sighed as she half-jogged back. Bringing her father to her grandson’s History Day would wear them both out. She’d have to find an adult restroom with bars. Lynda had asked the teacher to let Dad share his story first before his mind wandered, but his eyes already looked glassy.
At last they made it to the kindergarten room.
“You came!” Caleb’s eyes lit up. “Tell us the soldier story, Great-Grandpa!”
Dad straightened, and his voice seemed stronger. Lynda leaned forward, ready to cut his World War II story short, if necessary. Dad didn’t say much about guns and death. He told of freeing towns and sharing his K rations with hungry little kids.
They left the room to applause and a hug from Caleb.
“Dad, I’m proud of you.” Lynda slowed her steps as they headed out the school door.
Ancient of Days, help me to see my parent as You do, remembering Your grace in his or her past and trusting You for the present.