Emmaus Walk / Debra Tomaselli

Encounter with clerk allows Grandma Peg’s legacy to live on

As our lives unfold, someone is watching. Our actions make a difference now, and maybe forever.

“Can I help you?” The young clerk was well-dressed and presentable, with big hair and a bright smile.

“Yes, please,” I said, grappling with a thick stack of papers. “I need copies of all these stories, and I’d like them spiral bound. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll take them.”

The manuscripts spilled onto the counter where the lead story landed upright; its bold headline screaming up at us. “Is Jesus Really Present in the Blessed Sacrament?

Suddenly, I cringed. What if this kid wasn’t Catholic? What would he think?

I straightened the papers, keenly aware of the titles: “Does God Speak to Us?” “Blessed Mother Are You There?” “Remember, With God, All Things Are Possible.”

Without comment, the young clerk gathered the stories, crossed the room and made copies. When he returned to discuss binding options, I followed his recommendations and was quite pleased.

As we completed the transaction, I said, “I’d like to give you one of my stories.”

“No, that’s OK,” he said. “There’s no need.”

I insisted and he resisted. Then I looked up. Our eyes met.

Unexpectedly, the words just rolled out. “Do you believe in God?”

My question caught him off-guard.

“No. … Well, yes,” he said, “but not in a religious way, more in a spiritual way.” He paused. “I do think there’s a power greater than us.”

I nodded and waved heavenward. “Wait until you’re my age,” I said, “then you’ll see.”

At the register, I looked through my stories.

“Please, let me give you one,” I said. “If you don’t want it, that’s OK. Just give it to someone else.”

“Sure, go ahead,” he said. “I’ll read it.”

I shuffled the pages, searching for something that wasn’t too churchy. Finally, “God Loves You and So Do I” surfaced.

The story describes how Grandma Peg’s faith impacted me. It described how she read Scripture daily, and how it blanketed her in peace. It recalled a time when, unbeknownst to her, I needed money and she handed me a check, saying God told her to do that.

It shared what she once penned: “Dear children, I bring you my love. Remain steadfast. Walk with me. Trust me. Obey me. Believe me. Love me. I am your Lord God.” Her explanation? “Sometimes, I get messages like that,” she said. “I write them down.”

The story told how every communication from her included the tagline, “God loves you and so do I.” It recounted how, surprisingly, on a difficult day following Grandma Peg’s death, a co-worker bid me farewell, and cluelessly used that same exact phrase.

I handed the story to the young clerk.

“I’ll read it,” he promised.

It was Grandma Peg’s delight to share the faith. Nothing was more important to her. I guess she taught me that, too. Now, even beyond the grave, her legacy continues. Her life is still making a difference.

Grandma Peg would be proud. I’m sure she would.
 

(Debra Tomaselli writes from Altamonte Springs, Florida. She can be reached at dtomaselli@cfl.rr.com.) †