MEASURE

Her stomach twisted a little more into the familiar knot.  She could not remember the last time it was not there.  He looked at her as she picked up her phone not sure who she was calling.  Listening to the ring, she wondered what to say.  Half hoping it would go to voice mail, she heard the familiar hello.

A smile came across her face.  Her look reassured him they would be okay for the night.  He did not want to think what was going to happen after.  The apprehension of the future was almost unbearable at times.  The next ten minutes were filled with unease as both gas gauges showed no promise of making it.  A little prayer of thanks went to the heavens as they pulled up to the house.

  She rang the doorbell and looked at the sign that hung by the door.  She had read it a hundred times, but tonight the meaning hit home.

THE MEASURE OF LOVE

IS TO

LOVE WITHOUT MEASURE

   As the door opened there stood Grandma, with a smile and her blue eyes twinkling.  The feeling they had standing at a door having lost everything was not new to them.  Heads hung low with the usual shame, they walked in. She asked how they were.  There was no judgment.  No questions on how could they let this happen.  She showed them to a room, and told them supper would be at six.  Clean sheets and extra blankets were already out. They put down the bags as the panic started to fade.  The dinner bell rang and the of three walked towards the table now set for nine.

 

 

2 thoughts on “MEASURE

SPUN welcomes your thoughts...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s