The woman’s voice whispered in the night as she stood at her grandson’s bedroom door, filling their heads with her words. Much later she stood outside her granddaughter’s door and just shook her head, “Please Jesus, just let them get some sleep,” she whispered.
The girls had been up for hours playing and disrupting the room, leaving it a disheveled mess. When Ruth peeked in she was dismayed. After the heartfelt prayer Ruth sat on the couch, resting her head in her hands. This grandparenting thing was new to Ruth, her own adopted mother had passed away when her first born was just a toddler so was not there as a model for her. And that’s only the beginning of her story, which she may or may not tell.