worldrace-blogs Dec 21, 2011 7:00 PM

Grandma and a Prayer

My grandma gave me this prayer today. Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace! Wherever there is hate, may I bring love, where there i...

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My grandma gave me this prayer today.

Lord,

make me an instrument

of Your peace!

Wherever there is hate, may I bring love,

where there is offense,

may I bring pardon,

where there is discord,

may I bring unity,

where there is doubt, may I bring faith,

where there is error, may I bring truth,

where there is desperation,

may I bring hope,

where there is sadness,

may I bring joy,

where there is darkness, may I bring light!

O Master,

Make me to seek out more

to comfort than to be comforted,

to understand than to be understood,

to love than to be loved.

For it is by giving that one receives,

by forgiving that one is forgiven,

and it is by dying that one lives on eternally.

                                                                    - St. Francis of Assisi

My grandmother (Vovo Dalva) is one of the funniest, most loving people a person could ever hope to encounter.  She is always laughing. She talks to strangers, calling them "daughter" and "son" and "dear" and "my love" :) It's amusing and endearing. She is beloved and remembered wherever she goes. She gets medications at the pharmacy without prescriptions, the doctor's secretary "fits" her in the schedule, she skips lines, she gets special treatment everywhere she goes.

Today, we were walking down the street and saw this grocery store employee pushing a cart full of plastic oil bottles, and he tripped. All the oil bottles fell out of his cart, into the street. My grandmother (and everyone else) froze and watched as he got up, and looked to be okay. Life resumed. But not for my grandma. She crossed the street with me, and asked him "Did you lose any of your bottles? Are you going to owe them any money?" He said "No, ma'am, none of the bottles broke."

We crossed the street and continued on our way, and she says to me "Well, I was ready to give him some money. I know if something had broken, he would have to pay out of his pocket."

That's my grandmother. She sees something happen to a complete stranger, a stumble with a cart, and she automatically cares about them.

She saw a lady crying, and she out loud said, "Be with her, Jesus Christ, comfort her."

She told a banker today "My granddaughter is going to Africa and Asia and Central America to take to them our Jesus."

I once had doubts that my grandmother really knew Christ, because in Brazil there is so much mumbo jumbo bologna superstition folklore junk. Previous conversations had me kind of worried. But I praise God for letting me come here and visit right before World Race launch.

I got to see my family. I got to see my grandmother.

And I got to see Jesus in my grandmother.

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