The One With Charles' Harvest...

A summer morning dawns beyond the horizon. There's coolness seeping from the rising mist. The morning dew nourishes the undulating meadows. And the melodious sonnets sung by creatures here below resound into the soul of the weary. Laden with the burdens of the world no more, you rejoice forever in His promise.

For Charles

I had the tremendous honor and privilege of knowing my grandpa, Charles Romans. He was kind, caring, generous, quick-witted, humorous, and a man of God. His heart was full of gold. His love unwavering. His wisdom richer than any earthly treasure. There was one day where I got a chance to soak in those very riches. Amanda and I had traveled up to Albany for the weekend to see the family. While the rest of the family was inside the house, I took grandpa out on the porch and we rocked away as if we had known one another for years. He had a way of making you feel special...as if you were the more important person. But I knew better that day. I knew at that very moment that he was sharing bits and pieces of his legacy. . . or better yet, his life's harvest.

We talked about a myriad of things that summer afternoon. But it was his childhood memories that I remembered most. He told me about how he grew up on a farm and had to work really hard as a young boy. The little boy inside of me wanted to be a farmer that day. I don't know what it was about his farm life that piqued my interest, but to me it just seems like those who have had that experience are better people. It could be their work ethic and humble background that separates them from the average Joe. Now I don't know this to be true or not, but I assume he was part of some harvests on that farm. It doesn't really matter that they were big or small...plentiful or not. I want to believe that those seasons on the Romans farm taught him how to sow the seeds of life. They say that a harvest usually marks the end of growing season.

Grandpa, your work here on Earth is done. Your harvest is plentiful. I feel it in the warmth of Grandma Mae's hugs. I see it every day in Amanda's eyes. I feel it in Tonya's love for me. I soak it all in through Buddy's teachings. And I see it in Chad's generosity.

Thank you for the life you lived. Thank you for the love you gave. And thank you for letting us be a part of your harvest.

~George