The boys and I traveled up to my parents’ house again today. My two aunts were in town to spend time with my grandma for Mother’s Day. We left this morning around 7:40 AM and returned home nearly twelve hours later. My sister was also there with two of her girls. My grandma wasn’t feeling well today and spent most of the time that we were there in bed.

One of the things I learned after my grandpa died last year was the extent to which he was involved in prison ministry. I knew as a kid that grandpa sometimes left in the evenings to go to the prison. I hadn’t put together that this is what he did nearly every Saturday evening for 25 years. He and a friend did devotions with the men, using the Gideon bibles that lived in a box in the basement. I remember the bibles but hadn’t remembered who and what the bibles were for.

My grandpa also brought his trumpet and played there. He and his friend would invite the men to sing hymns with them. I don’t know if the men ever actually sang, but they each had papers with printed out words. The thought of a trumpet in the prison made me happiest. We spoke again of the great blessings of our lives, safe in the hope of a life without end.

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