From the Hands of Babes…

Posted by Frankly Francis on August 29, 2015 under Personal | Be the First to Comment

This is a story about a great grandfather and a great grandson, but before it is told, I think a little background is in order:

Through modern science, the ultrasound revealed that my eldest daughter One’s second child (“1.2”) would be male. The all female streak (daughters & granddaughters) was at an end. There would be a first boy cub.

Great grandfather Michael was my widowed mother-in-law’s second husband – a wonderful man who was loved by all. A man who knew a lot more than higher education could ever have taught him. Michael had a practical engineer’s curiosity. True Statement: He never stopped figuring things out.

Michael and 1.2 bonded right away. They really did. It was special. They did all kinds of things together. As 1.2 became more aware, with Michael showing him, he became fascinated by ceiling fixtures. At family functions, I vividly remember Michael carrying 1.2 room-to-room where they would stop underneath the ceiling fan or light and 1.2 would point up to it. They would each in their own way analyze it for a time and then move on to the next room.

Ethan Riding on Dolly With Poppa

As it subsequently turns out, thus far, 1.2 continues to exhibit an engineer’s curiosity. So perhaps there was a certain instinctual and/or even metaphysical connection between the two of them. They were virtually inseparable when in the same place.

Being faithful parents, my daughter and son-in-law made arrangements, as is done amongst protestant churches, to dedicate 1.2’s upbringing to the Lord. They were attending at the time what I could best describe as a very large church, perhaps not a mega-church, but a very large church nonetheless. The Sanctuary was well appointed with an excellent stage having good sound and lighting. Their services were ably produced. Many people attended.

1.2 was almost one and a half years of age at the time – still way too young to comprehend everything happening around him. As is true of children of that age, most language was beyond his understanding as was the full meaning of the ceremony that he was the subject of.

The pastor who presided over the baby dedications was perfect for the job. He combined earnestness in his role while still being amiable and a nice enough guy. Children generally reacted well to him. It was his duty to publicly confirm with the parents their intent to raise their child within the beliefs of the faith.

Along with that, the pastor would address the child directly, among other things making note of the meaning of the child’s name within its religious context. At the point when the pastor was mentioning to 1.2 that he too had some obligations in this matter – to be a good, obedient son, respecting his parents and being faithful to the Lord above…

…1.2 raised his hand and pointed straight up to heaven.

The congregation collectively gasped in amazed reaction at having seen the hand of God move through the hand of a child. It was on TV and streaming on the Internet. 1.2 had no idea of how far his reach exceeded the length of his small arm!

Michael and I followed 1.2’s upward motion and realized what had happened. 1.2, perhaps not giving the pastor his full attention, had noticed the colorful stage lighting above his head and reacted to it. Michael might just as well have been holding him on that stage at that particular moment. Most thankfully, someone took a picture:

Ethan Dedication EDITED

I was sitting next to Michael. I looked at Michael. Michael looked at me. I think…I am pretty sure that wry smiles appeared on both of our faces. Nothing was said between us, words were needless – it was truly an amazing moment in time. In a crowd of well over one thousand, he and I, along with a few family members, knew what 1.2 was up to. To the rest, a religious act of some magnitude had occurred right in front of their eyes, and well, who am I to say, perhaps God does move in mysterious ways…