A God Story

I prayed a prayer Wednesday night @ Brandee's house. I begged God not to forget me when I got on the plane with Kaia and Ava. I didn't think I could bear it if people looked at me with them and thought they were not good kids. (Guess it's a grandma thing: Don't talk trash about my babies, I don't care who you are.)

Sleep didn't stay that night and each time I woke I prayed it again. I prayed to not get angry no matter what. I prayed to be able to keep my cool when I got those sneers from the passengers - or be able to bear the panic I would see in those peoples eyes as I moved close to them with two toddlers.

(BTW, I wasn't really thinking much on it until Brandee scared the snot out of me . . . thanks a lot, chick.)

And they were unreal. They never slept, but never fussed, never cried, never even spoke too loud (except Kaia when we took off; "We're going up, Granma!") We talked and played and colored and snacked and people smiled when they saw us to to the bathroom together. A lady even came up and told me how impressed she was with my grand -daughters.

With all that's happening in the world - Kuwait, Obama, Cheri, Kelly . . . Still God made sure I was taken care of. He really cared. Talk about humbling.