Granny June’s Legacy

Little Brother and I ready for church one Easter morning.

Little Brother and I posing for photos one Sunday morning before Church. (The kittens weren’t going.)

I recently received a note from my nephew. He and his wife are planting a church on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. They’ve been in the field since January. They started a Bible Study they plan to grow into a church. But this is not really what I want to blog about today. In the note my nephew wrote, he said: I am so thankful for Granny June’s legacy of faith, and I do my best to honor her through ministry.”

My mom’s legacy is what I want to tell you about.

As far as I know religion wasn’t important to my maternal grandmother and grandfather. They didn’t take their three girls to Sunday school or attend church. When Mama was ten, she decided to go to church on her own. Although the Methodist church was next door, she decided to walk about three blocks to the Baptist church. And that is where she decided to follow Jesus. Maybe she made that decision before she walked those three blocks that first Sunday morning…

Mama didn’t tell me why she chose the Baptist over the Methodist. (I should tell you that in that small town, there were two major religions – Methodists and Baptist.) I would guess that her friends went to the Baptist church.

I think Mama drifted away during her teen years, maybe did a little backsliding of some sort. After she finished high school, she went away to college and returned the next summer to marry her high school sweetheart, Daddy. And a while later, I came along.

She later told me that after we moved to the farm (I was three when we moved), she and I were walking down the driveway one afternoon. It was about a quarter mile to the main road… She was holding my hand, and she said my hand felt so small in hers. She didn’t tell me all her thoughts, just that she realized she wanted to bring me up in the church. I’m glad she did. I don’t think I could have walked the six miles to town to go on my own.

Little Brother came along a couple of years later, but Little Sister didn’t arrive until I was twenty. Mama took us all to Sunday school and church and saw that we got the foundation for our faith. And, I believe she prayed for all three of us, and our families, until the day she died.

She taught primary and intermediate Sunday school when I was young and then took over the ladies class sometime after I was grown and married. She taught that class well into her 80s, as long as she could stand and teach. As Mama neared the end of her days, several ladies from her class came to her home for Sunday afternoon Bible Study.

Mama attended the same church from the time she was ten and was still a member when she passed on to Glory at the age of 93. And, my sister’s son is working to honor her legacy in Wyoming. I’m sure Mama is pleased. And I am thankful that I have a share in her legacy of faith.


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