CREDOS: The caregiver — I

Our granddaughter Hannah had appointed herself Grandpa John’s helper. She was too young to understand the meaning of “caregiver,” but we all watched with astonishment as her heart led her to say and do things that brought every one of us comfort and hope. We’d just returned home from an appointment with John’s orthopedic surgeon. Our daughter Cathy’s blue van pulled up to the curb, and moments later our vivacious, four-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, ran toward us. “Hi!” she called out. “Grandpa, is your knee all better?”

“Not yet, Hannah. My doctor has to put me in the hospital. Then he’ll make my knee like new.” “When my husband lost his wedding ring while scuba diving, I thought we would never see it again…” Suddenly, John winced and moaned with pain. A look of compassion crossed Hannah’s face. “Grandpa, take my hand, and your knee will feel better.” John grinned for the first time all morning. “You know, I think you’re right, Hannah.”

Her sparkling blue eyes looked up at her granddad reassuringly as she placed her hand in his. The two of them headed for the house, her strawberry blond ponytail bouncing back and forth. Cathy and I both chuckled at the sight. Once we were all in the house, Hannah followed me out to the kitchen and watched as I took an icepack out of the freezer. She’d seen me do this before. “Grandma, can I put ice on Grandpa’s knee?” “Of course, Hannah,” I replied. —