I’m no antique connoisseur, I don’t have much interest in first editions or expensive collectibles. However at times, I can get lost in history. One of the things in my home that holds most value to me is this worn leather bible that belonged to my grandpa, my dad, and finally made its way to me. Thumbing through the pages it’s easy to see it has aged over the years; it given as a gift in 1938, the leather cover was carefully burned by my grandpa 10 years later in 1948. It has been through times that have seen war, segregation, atomic bombs, communism, and presidential assasinations.
It’s easy for my mind to wander as I hold it. Did it accompany my grandpa through his time with the navy? Looking through the notes written in it makes me wonder what experiences inspired him to seek solace in a verse or write a prayer. Did he ever imagine while reading it that his son would read the same passages, let alone his grandson? I may never know the answers, but I’m thankful to have it in my possession and hopefully, to one day pass it along…
Love the pictures, love the blog. love, mom
Thanks Mom!