She sits behind us, with KentandLuanne, who have adopted her as a granddaughter that they don't have. (Their grown and single sons have mentioned that they appreciate Jo, since she takes the pressure off.) We have adopted them, too, since Jo's nearest relatives live more than a thousand miles away; we need all the family we can get.
Jo is not the only child in the row, however; and through the service, at least a half dozen kids will stop by, since Luanne brings two or three bags with her to church: one purse, one bag of toys and stickers, and one bag bursting with fruit snacks, baggies of goldfish crackers, marshmallows, and occasionally frosted circus cookies. Luanne has church snacks down.
And let's face it, who hasn't gotten part way through the sermon and realized that breakfast was a bit too long ago and we didn't get to church until after all of the coffee hour remnants had been put away? Who doesn't need the occasional package of fruit snacks to get all the way to the closing hymn without the stomach growling?
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I remember Grandma Ryan, who seemed impossibly old when I was a child but who died only six years ago, who always had candy in her purse for us at church.
She was amazing.
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Though it may be bribery or manipulation to sweeten an otherwise dull hour, I am grateful for Luanne's gift. I am grateful that Jo is excited about church because she knows that there are good things for her there. She knows that there are people there who love her. She knows that while Mom and Dad are there, too, we are not the focus of attention. There exists a wider world for her already because of church.
And we don't buy fruit snacks for home.
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