As I walked through the almost empty
house, I glanced at the no-longer-in-use desk and saw a shimmering gold like
coin staring at me as if I were destine to take it. “Can I take this, Grandma?” I questioned my tired grandma,
picking up the coin that was connected to a small block like piece of
paper. It looked so familiar, not
just sitting on the desk all those years, but familiar somewhere else,
too. As my grandma started to step
towards me reassuring that I could take the item, I reread the verse printed in
italics a million different times in my head. “Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commence
me here ever this day be at my side, to light, to guard, to rule and guide.”
My
grandpa had just died earlier that week.
I think it was pretty hard on my grandma, sorting through all of his old
clothes and personal items alone, so my parents and I decided to spend the
weekend helping her with things that needed to be done. She told my dad and I that we could
take anything we wanted of my grandpa’s.
I didn’t quite know what to take because I didn’t want to take something
too important, but I wanted to take something that I could look at and remember
my grandpa from. I walked through
the house and I couldn’t find quite the right item, until I walked through my
grandpa’s office. On the left side
of the used desk, I saw a Guardian Angel prayer sheet with an angel coin
inserted somehow on it.
The
prayer sheet is a small and rectangular piece of paper. The paper looks fragile, yet it is
thick and durable like cardboard.
The verse is in small dainty type with a slanted curve to it that adds
to its beauty. The paper is white
as snow, but the words are black as the pupil in your eye. The verse is like having to cough in
the middle of a silent moment; you constantly think about it.
As
I was cleaning my room, I found the prayer sheet on the complete different spot
than it was supposed to be. I went
to go put it back on my bookshelf, but I realized it was already there: I had
two prayer sheets. I finally
realized why the sheet looked so familiar when I first saw it on the desk: my
great-grandma had also given me the same prayer sheet. So now that prayer sheet isn’t
important to me only because it was on my grandpa’s desk, but my great-grandma
had the same sheet too. It
connects me to more than one person who is important to me.
As
I look back to that sad day of walking through the empty house, I’m glad I
grabbed the simple paper with a coin taped to it. If I didn’t grab it, I wouldn’t have been able to remember
both my grandpa and my great-grandma from it. They were both extremely important
to me. The prayer verse seems so
simple to most people, but it’s very important to me.
