people that ooze

Little Man's Christmas program at school was yesterday.

He looks dapper, no? And ready for an audience?

Of course, his mom and dad watched (who am I kidding, they filmed) from the pews, and if any of his other family lived close by, we'd have been there too. In particular, both his granddads would certainly have been there wearing equally dashing sweater vests, I just know it.

Fortunately for Little Man, he has some surrogate grandparents who live across the street, and they were so sweet to support him at his program, just as if he was their own grandchild.

I was so pleased to know that, not because grandparents are replaceable -- they're not -- but because he's learning young that sometimes, people who aren't your blood can love you good and hard.

When I lived in Starkville, my surrogate grandparents were Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy. They swept me up as their own in very nearly the same moment that I met them that first time. They were warm and welcoming, good-natured and light-hearted.

Goodness, they were sharers. They shared stories, their home, their family, their holidays, and everything that mattered to them. They withheld no secrets; everything they'd experienced over 70 years was fair game. They celebrated happy days, relived their favorite memories, and mourned the heartaches.

I learned about their own love at first sight, and how they took a risk on each other. I learned about how an abusive childhood can be redeemed with some faith, determination and a good man's leadership of a lady. I learned that after a couple buries an infant, hope finds its way back into their hearts if they're open to it. I learned that physical ailments that haunt a person her whole life don't have to define her.

It was like this fruit of the Spirit inside of them was oozing out all the time onto the people around them, and I just got to lap it up.

Miss Judy met Jesus a few years ago, and I am so touched every time I talk to Mr. Bobby, because he honors her memory so well. He talks about her, tells her stories for her, and even though he'd rather her still be beside him, he just keeps on loving her and everyone else he knows.

I loved Mr. Bobby and Miss Judy. I still do. And I hope one day, Little Man can say the same thing about the people who let their love ooze out onto him.