Read Grandpa's Prayer Page 1




  Grandpa's Prayer

  By Morris Rye

  Copyright 2013

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  A story of courage, and about the power of prayer.

  Inspired by a community of family and friends, pulling together in a time of need.

  A fictional story, based on real life.

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  One

  My Grandpa fixes things. He builds houses too. He made me my own backyard playhouse, and it's just my size. We painted it blue, with white around the windows. He lives on an old farm in the country with Grammy Jean. I live in the city. Grammy Jean reads me stories when I stay overnight, and I help her make pancakes for Grandpa in the morning. They have a big black dog Trinity, and Noel the cat. My name is Emma. I'm 6 years old.

  I visited Grammy Jean and Grandpa for a whole week late last summer. Mom, Dad, and my baby brother Zack all stayed at the farm for a couple days, but I stayed behind. Grandpa said he needed my help to build some rabbit pens for a neighbor down the road. I looked up at him, winked, and said, "Ok." I like rabbits and thought maybe he was really building them for me.

  I have my own bedroom at the farm, its second story window looks out over the horseshoe shaped, gravel driveway. Just beyond the driveway is the old weathered barn that grandpa's dad used to milk cows in. It's a workshop now, with a big sliding door, big enough to fit a car or a truck or even a boat.

  I like playing with Trinity, he follows me around everywhere. He's good at catching tennis balls in mid-air, and barking at people he doesn't know. Noel was a city cat, and then Grammy adopted her when she was 2. She's still not sure she likes the country, so stays close to the farmhouse. I like when she jumps up on my bed at night and circles in next to me.

  Two

  My grandpa is always busy doing something; he's either in his workshop, or gone most of the day working on a house. He taught me how to build a birdhouse, how to sand a board as smooth as glass, and how to paint without getting it all over me.

  It was Friday morning when Grandpa said, "Today it's just you and me Emma."

  Grammy had already left for the city to visit my great aunt Jane. I heard them talk about a doctor appointment the night before. I wasn't sure what was going on, but Grandpa said everything would be ok. We made scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. I broke open and stirred the eggs, Grandpa cooked them.

  “We’ve got a lot of work to do on those rabbit cages, so eat-up!" Grandpa said.

  We spent the morning cutting up big sheets of wood into smaller pieces. I helped stack the small pieces into 6 different piles. I couldn't understand how they would turn into rabbit houses, but bit-by-bit they did. We pasted glue on the ends, and squeezed them together with long clamps. Sometimes Grandpa used a nail gun, I covered my ears whenever he pressed the trigger.

  We made 4 nice rabbit houses, but when Grandpa wanted to attach the doors, he couldn't find any just-right-size hinges.

  "We're going to Jack's Hardware in town," Grandpa said, "then stop for lunch at Sandy's Cafe.”

  I ran to the house to clean up, Trinity raced alongside me. I brushed off the wood dust from my clothes and washed my hands in the kitchen sink. I accidentally knocked over a box of Cheerios when I reached for some paper toweling on the counter. The floor was a mess, sawdust, cereal and wet paper toweling bits. I could hear Grandpa calling for me. He was waiting by his work truck, talking to someone on the phone.

  "Come on Emma" Grandpa yelled, but in a patient way.

  I ran out of the house, and jumped in from the driver side door. Where I needed to sit was full of tools and drawings and a cooler Grandpa kept lunch in. He pushed things over a bit and I scooted as far middle as I could. Trinity wanted to come too, he started to bark and run after us as we pulled out of the gravel driveway. Grandpa told him to "Go home! Go home!" Eventually he did, and I watched to make sure. I thought of the mess I made in the kitchen, but I'd clean it up when we got back.

  Three

  The small-town hardware store was only a few minutes from the farm. I went there once before with Grandpa for blue paint. The owners have a dog named Crowbar. I think that's a funny name for a poodle. Grandpa's truck squeaked and wiggled over every little bump in the road. Another couple minutes and we'd be there.

  Just as we were making the sweeping turn, towards the main highway to town, Grandpa's phone rang. At the exact moment Grandpa reached for his phone, a bird crashed into the windshield, right at us. I screamed! Both of us were startled, the truck veered right, and suddenly stopped with a big BANG!! I went flying out of my seat, my head smashing HARD against the front windshield. With no seat belt around me, I was like a rag doll tumbling in a clothes dryer. The truck had hit an old concrete bridge abutment, the truck stopped dead, but I kept on going!

  Everything went dark inside my head, it was like being asleep, but I couldn't make myself wake up. My head and body throbbed, but I don't remember feeling any pain. The truck hissed and groaned, it smelled of sweet steam. I could hear Grandpa moaning. Then something amazing happened!

  I don't know how to tell it, other than to say I was looking down at the crumpled truck from above. It was like I was a movie camera, looking at what happened to us from outside. I hoped we weren't dead. I was Emma on the floor of the truck, and the essence of Emma floating above the wreckage.

  A delivery truck stopped first, those trucks that bring boxes before Christmas-time. The man made a call on his phone, then sprayed white powder on the motor. A car stopped next, 2 ladies came over and wanted to help, but argued what to do. I could sense they didn't want to hurt us more. I could hear Grandpa moan again, he started to struggle and opened and closed his eyes.

  He called out to me, "Emma, Emma are you ok, wake up!"

  I couldn't wake up as hard as I tried. I could see that Grandpa was trapped behind the steering wheel, the ladies tried to calm him down, and tell him help was on the way. I was slumped over the pile of tools and could feel pressure building in my head. Neither door would open, no matter how hard the delivery driver tried.

  From my point of view, floating above the truck, I could see the rescue trucks coming. They were moving fast, sirens wailing. A police car led the way, followed by an ambulance and 2 fire trucks. Once there, the sirens stopped, but the lights kept spinning in circles. I waved both my arms to them, and told them to help my Grandpa, but I guess they couldn't see me. Each one had their job to do, one sprayed more white powder on the motor, one talked to Grandpa, one was checking on me. Two firemen were able to open Grandpa's door with long metal bars. My door had to be opened by a noisy machine. A second ambulance arrived.

  I thought of Crowbar, and Trinity, and Noel the cat. I thought of Grammy Jean, and Mama and Papa and baby brother Zack. I thought of the mess I left in the kitchen. With gentle hands they moved me onto the rolling bed, then bundled me up and strapped me snuggly in. I left in the first ambulance, Grandpa was next. I magically floated alongside. I could see them working on me, hear them talking to doctors on the other end of the black radios. I could even sense how focused the driver was, as we all zoomed towards the county hospital, red lights flashing, sirens blaring.

  Four

  I don't know how I did it, but it was easy for me to keep up with the speeding ambulance. There were even moments when I looked around and saw how beautiful the fields of corn were, how beautiful the red barns, the white houses, and the blue sky. I felt like I was losing touch with the little girl in the speeding truck, but heard voices to not let her go. I wondered how Grandpa was.

  It wasn't long and we were there. Well, we were stopped anyway, but not by the hospital. It was more like a big parking lot, but with no cars allowed. I heard a lot of chatter again on the radio, then a swooping sound, that got louder and
Louder and LOUDER! A helicopter landed delicately in the yellow circle painted on the black asphalt.

  I watched as they loaded me into the helicopter, and they didn't waste any time doing it. In the blink of an eye the blades roared back to full speed, up and off we went. I was worried that the floating me couldn't keep up to the nimble helicopter, but again, by some magic I still can't explain, I followed along effortlessly, seeing all that was happening inside.

  The fields of corn and hay gave way to more and more houses. In the distance I could see tall buildings, the football stadium, churches, and a tangle of roads. Now there were solid rows of houses beneath us, each seemed so alike, but I knew a special one was mine, with a bed-full of stuffed animals, and a backyard playhouse.

  I could feel myself starting to fade away in the helicopter, but a sudden prayer, from my Mom's heart to mine, blew right through me. I gasped for air! It felt like a favorite memory; like the day I woke up to a thick blanket of snow in our yard, my first big snowstorm. Daddy and I were building a snowman, he held me up to the snowman's head as I pressed in a charcoal smile. Mom called for Daddy & I to come inside. Once inside, Mom wiped my runny nose and rubbed my red cheeks. She pulled