All of the children

My children never got to meet my paternal grandfather as he died before any of them were born. However, many of them are here because of him. Yes, he married us, and blessed all who would come through our doors as husband and wife. But more than that he left a legacy of a life lived to bless others. A family with almost a dozen great-grandchildren who are adopted speaks for itself.

My cousins and I have learned that adoption is not easy. There are no guarantees. Trauma is long-lasting and all-encompassing. It pushes away and divides and leaves a trail of chaos behind. But it is also the best picture I know of grace and redemption and an unconditional love that patiently and expectantly waits for the prodigal to decide that a seat at the table is truly better than the scraps of pigs.

How do I know this is my grandfather's legacy? Because he loved unconditionally. He wasn't flashy about it. He didn't draw attention to himself. He chose to love those that were different from him, racially, culturally, and spiritually. He taught with his own life as model.

And, he also taught. It was my dream to have my grandfather as a teacher at Christopher Dock Mennonite High School. Unfortunately, he retired the year before I entered ninth grade. I never had that pleasure. This disappointed me greatly but when I hear stories like I heard today, I realize that claiming him as my grandfather means that I received the best education from his life just as others received from him in the classroom.

For many years, my dad had a train set in his attic. Victor enjoyed playing with that train set but something happened when my parents moved a few years ago and the engine no longer worked. A recent conversation with a contractor who came into their home, who they also knew, led them to a source for a new engine. The young man suggested that they contact his grandfather who probably had an engine they could buy. They made the arrangements and went to see what he had to offer.

My dad was pleased to find that this man did have an engine for sale, just the right scale and perfect for his set. My dad asked how much? He was told $1. My parents were shocked. Then the man added a trolley, and another car - without raising the price. My parents tried to argue. It was all worth so much more than that. Then the man's wife said, "Tell them why you don't want to accept any more money than that."

The man went on to explain that when he and his wife were younger, they had a foster daughter. The situation was tough. She wasn't the typical student to attend the private school where my grandfather taught. They didn't know if they should send her even though they had sent their other children there. In the end, they did decide to enroll her. They explained that it was my grandfather who went out of his way to care. He saw the value in her. The story may have had its own twists and turns, but this man and his wife never forgot the teacher who welcomed every student. They weren't just making a transaction to sell a couple of train cars; they were thanking the family of one who meant so much to theirs.

That's the legacy my grandfather left. That's the reason my family is here. That's the legacy I hope to leave to my children. 

"Let the little children come to me," Jesus said. All of the children. Not just the ones who make good choices. Not just the ones who acknowledge me. Not just the ones who can pay me back. 

All of the children.