Sweetness

She was nine years old today--our first grandchild! Last night I wrapped the gifts that her mommy helped me pick out--perfect for this unique little girl. Tiffany-Amber--such a feminine name for a child who prefers dinasaurs to dolls.

This morning as our presents for her lay waiting on our kitchen table, her granddad Paul asked, "Isn't she going to come upstairs?" I said I'd go down and ask.

In the cosy downstairs apartment all was still morning quiet. Molson looked up, chew toy in his gentle golden retriever mouth. He carried on--went back to chewing. He doesn't get excited unnecessarily. "I love that dog," I thought to myself as I walked through the living room into their big front room. I found Tiffany-Amber on the couch watching television with her mom while her sister and dad slept on. "Happy birthday, darling!" I said, "Are you coming up to open your presents?" Her face lit up and with a questioning glance at her mom, who nodded, she jumped up , eyes bright with excitement.

On the table lay three gifts. I knew that the top one was just simple and almost said so, but stopped myself, just letting her enjoy the moment without my influence. Small fingers tore away the bright paper. The gift was just a pad of drawing paper, but she held it up to her mom. "Drawing paper--just what I needed!" she said. The next gift was a book all about making paper airplanes, complete with templates and paper. This brought even more sparkles to her eyes--it was the perfect gift for her (and later in the day resulted in a fleet of paper airplanes that flew through our hallway). Lastly, there was a wooden box with a metal handle and clips, containing an assortment of pastel crayons, pencils, paints, paintbrushes, sandpaper and eraser--her very own art box. "Wow," she said as she gazed at the wonderful array of colours--pastel, primary and earth-tones. No one ever received gifts with greater appreciation.

But her granddad, who our grandchildren's parents probably despair of ever reforming, was not going to leave her complete birthday happiness to chance. "Now," he said, as Brenda and I wondered what was coming next, "If, at the end of the day, there is something you really wanted, that you didn't get--let me know." Brenda and I looked at each other and wordlessly communicated volumes. "He's a hopeless case--there's no changing him," but part of me saw the heart of God in him--his heart to bless us, to bless liberally, to delight us by his giving all that he has to give--and the very best--and I smiled as I thought of it.

Psalm 85:12 (New International Version)
12 The LORD will indeed give what is good,