My Special Tribute

Little things make a difference. That's the lesson I learned today. Two weeks ago to the day I wrote a letter to my grandparents, just to tell them what I admired about them and how much I love them. Mostly I had to write it because I never seem to tell them when I'm around them. The truth is I don't enjoy being around them very much. You know how it is, slow, boring conversation when you'd rather be watching T.V. or relaxing at home. To be honest I avoid them whenever I come home because I don't want to sacrifice the time. Wow that sounds horrible. All the same, I do respect them and love them, and am much better expressing that in writing. So I sent a letter and forgot about it.

This morning I gave them a call and asked if they were going to church, thinking if I went with them on this trip home, I'd see them without actually having to talk to them all that much. They were delighted, and turned it into inspiration because they haven't been going to church for a while and this was the push they needed. Well that's neat, and it also gave me someone to go to church with. So there we were, sitting in fast and testimony meeting as just about every kid in primary got up to bear their testimonies, when the thought popped into my head how it would mean so much to my grandparents if I bore my testimony. I dismissed the thought however, and smiled happily as one kid after another "knew the church was true and loved their families." But when the tides of testimony bearing kids slowed and long pauses came between speakers, I went into missionary mode and started wondering what I could talk about if I got up. Well it's all downhill once that thought process gets started, and I knew I would eventually go. I did, and I rambled unfeelingly about this and that, then sat down with a feeling of incredulity and slight embarrassment that I'd done it. Grandpa squeezed my hand and grandma gave me a hug, so I knew that to them, at least, I was still a hero. Well, even more of a hero, turns out.

Because then Grandpa got up, and I guess I just wasn't prepared for what was coming. Have you ever had a testimony born about you? It's an odd feeling. I understand why I'm famous in this small town-I've got a couple of men over the age of 50 that really love me and they tell everyone about it. Well, my grandpa got up to the pulpit and testified of how great I am, how grateful he is that I'm in his life (very nice), how he loves all his grand kids but I'm just really special, and even told how when I got home from my mission everyone wanted me to speak in church and some parents actually called for their sons wondering if they could set us up. It was a wonderful testimony. How do you respond to that? I had everyone in the audience turning to look at me, smiling at me; oh my gosh, it was amazing. I've never been so uncomfortable. But it meant a lot to me too.

We went back to their house, and though I thought it would be nice to talk with them for a bit, I vowed not to get sucked in for too long. I really did enjoy talking to them. They told me some things about their past, told some stories, told about ranching and how that was going. Then they started talking about the letter I sent them. For nigh unto half an hour they told me how much it meant to them, tears involved, how it was perhaps the nicest letter they've ever gotten and my grandpa even confided in me that he wanted me to read that letter on his big, last day...at his funeral. Wow. There was a lot more talking, I stayed about an hour longer than I meant to and I was ready to go when I finally made it out. But you know, I really was touched. I don't know what I've done to impress these people so much, but its nice to know that I do mean so much to them. And that something so simple as a little letter can impact them for months.

I just had to write about this because it's the only thing that got me through the whole day-thinking about explaining it and yes, mocking it slightly. It's so hilarious, in a way. But also so sweet and touching. It just shows that with a little effort on our part, we can make a huge difference in the lives of others. So the moral of the story is: write your grandparents! you have no idea how much it will mean to them.