Image by more photos boosty.to/victoria_art_music from Pixabay
Across the great courtyard in Big Loft, where all institutions of public import cast their shadows as the day went by, workers – people who had to come to work in the pandemic because of the decisions they had to make for the public – arrived to have things opened by 9:00.
Some were sullen, frightened, and depressed, knowing that every day they took their lives in their hands, and wishing that they did not have to be there to deal with the sullen, frightened, depressed public.
Others loved the bounce in personal importance and power they now had.
Others just showed up as the caring public servants that they were, accepting the further responsibility.
Lofton County, VA had a great number of senior citizens in its population, and in positions of authority, and thus, for an otherwise conservative area, was almost “left-wing draconian” in its Covid measures. Every worker, if they wanted their job, had to arrive in an N95 or KN95 mask, and so they did, some grumbling, some cussing as they approached and put it on for entry.
But then, all saw – because the angles of their approach left no choice – a small family gathering on a bench near the middle of the square.
It was a warm early morning for it had been hot the night before, and the grandfather's white hair shone in the sun like a beacon – a big, still-strong old man in an army captain's uniform, deeply resembling, at distance, the ubiquitous-in-Virginia statuary image of aged, powerful General Robert E. Lee. But this old man had two children with him, two little boys, the elder a very active brunette around nine years old, and the younger an equally active blond of about five. Both of these beautiful little boys were in their Sunday best to go with their grandfather's sharp uniform, but it was too early to come into the courthouse, so they were sitting and reading.
Those who came very early saw the grandfather instructing his grandsons in Scripture, his large-print Bible on his knee as he read to them aloud and answered their questions in his colossal and gorgeous bass voice (which carried and echoed softly in the empty square when their questions made him laugh). Those who came later saw them all laughing at the Sunday comics from the Big Loft Bulletin as he read those aloud and marvelously imitated the voices of the characters in the comics.
People lingered a little, just inside or outside if they wanted to have their coffee before work with masks off, and watched as 9:00 approached slowly … those who did saw the grandfather and grandsons talking up a storm and laughing, and then the almost unbelievably touching sight of the grandfather making a newspaper hat for the littler one, and then the bigger one, and then putting the biggest hat on his own dignified head before they talked and laughed some more and at last took a laughing “ussie” on his cell phone.
But then it was 8:45, and the hats were carefully folded and put into the grandfather's suitcase, for he was raising his grandsons correctly, and one did not go into institutions of power so attired. They stood at attention after putting their masks on, and he even checked for air gaps in the fit that he could not see by slowly passing his hand around their eyes and under their chins.
Then, the grandfather began to give his grandsons instruction firm and yet gentle instruction, and they looked at him with the trust and love that someday they would give God Himself, listening with the intent – for with boys that young, the ability was still developing – to obey.
One court officer suddenly gasped upon seeing this.
“I know who that is – gosh darn it, now I remember!” he said to another. “That's Captain R.E. Ludlow, with two of his seven grandchildren! He has come down here to see what is happening with the adoption, and we know the final paperwork is on Swanson's desk collecting dust!”
“Swanson was lazy before this heavy flu came along, but he's just ridiculous now,” said another officer.
A custodian walked by and just put a key into the first speaker's hand.
“You know what to do,” she said. “Slide the key under the custodian's office door when you're done.”
“Gosh darn it, I'm going to do it!”
The rescue of the Ludlow adoption process was under way, owing to the Ludlow grandfather's strategic demonstration of what was at stake.
“Lord, You gave Daniel favor in the sight of great officials … I'm counting on You to allow the sight of us Ludlows to be carried with Your compassion into that building, and move somebody with a heart to do something for us!”
Captain Ludlow as a grandfather giving positive instructions to his grandson. I had lost my grandparents I can feel their advices when they experienced either by reading news paper or through practical exposure of life. I shall badge it best family meeting of this time when modernism is crushing the traditions of our ancestors.
Thank you for reading ... what I am doing as a writer is quietly reconnecting us to the things from the elders that we still need, even if by stirring a memory or the knowledge that these things are needed ..
He has come down here to see what is happening with the adoption, and we know the final paperwork is on Swanson's desk collecting dust!” I felt broken-hearted when I read this. BUT God was listening, “You know what to do,” she said. “Slide the key under the custodian's office door when you're done.” Well done, my friend, well done.
We all know this kind of stuff happens ... my grandmother LITERALLY found her legal papers in the dust on someone's desk ... but the secretary let her in, and she knew what to do...
Praise God for the good people.
Ooooh, the suspense is killing me!! But I loved the part about the paper hats.
That just sort of flowed out as I was writing ... just some extra joy!