The Truth Is the Light Read Online Free PDF Page B

ones who were forever walking, trying to go “home.” But home for them was a place in time, a place that no longer existed in the present world.
    Gramps and Countess sat out in the gazebo for a while, neither one of them having more than casual things to say. They talked about the plants, specifically the beautiful, velvet-looking, multicolored shades of red, yellow, blue, and purple pansies the gardener had just put out. They discussed the trees that were beginning to shed their leaves as they tried to guess how old some were. And the sky that was a perfect indigo blue with not a cloud marring it. Countess sneezed. She sneezed again, and then again.
    Having said “Bless you” following three of her sneezes, Gramps pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. A habit that began with his mother when he was a teenager going to church; she always gave him a fresh handkerchief to put in his pocket. When he was old enough for her not to insist, he did it because there was always some need to have one, even if only to hand over to a woman spilling tears in church or on a date.
    â€œThank you,” Countess said, sneezing again as she used it now to wipe her nose.
    When they got back inside the building, Countess went to her room and Gramps went to his. After minutes of dozing in his recliner, he looked over at the old black trunk he kept in the corner of his room. Stuff was stacked up on top of it. He got up and started removing those things. Opening the trunk, he began to pull out this and that until he finally found what he was looking for. He smiled as he touched the wooden, hand-carved box. He couldn’t help but admire the workmanship of the seventy-something-year-old box. It was indeed impressive. Carefully, he took it out of the trunk, closed the trunk’s lid, then carried the box over to his bed.
    His grandson was going to be baptized Sunday. Clarence had finally heard the voice of Jesus and chosen to give his life to Him. Inside of that now-antique-looking wooden box was an antique pocket watch Gramps wanted to give to Clarence. It would be his way of letting Clarence know that time still has a way of catching up with you. He of all people could testify to that. But one could also use time to his or her advantage. Here he was less than two months from turning one hundred. Who would have ever believed he would have made it this far and still be clothed in his right mind? If anybody, he, of all people, should have lost his mind a long time ago. But for the grace of God . . .
    Just as he was about to put the special key he’d kept in a secret place into the keyhole to unlock the box, there was a knock on his door. Before he could even respond, the door cracked open.
    â€œRanny, it’s me . . . Countess. Is it okay for me to come in?”
    He quickly set the box down and pushed it to the side. “Sure, Miss Countess. Come on in.”
    Countess pushed the door open and sauntered in. “I washed your handkerchief and ironed it,” she said, holding out the pressed, white, square-folded poly/cotton to him.
    â€œOh, Miss Countess, you didn’t have to go and do that. You could have kept that thang.” He took the handkerchief and laid it on the bed. “I have a drawer full of handkerchiefs. In fact, when folks ask what I want for any occasion, I generally tell them handkerchiefs and socks. You know, you can never have enough handkerchiefs or socks.”
    â€œI know. I just don’t like keeping folks’ things, not if I can help it. I now realize with all that’s happening with me, sometimes I just can’t help it. And socks . . . I have yet to figure out why it is that socks, especially men’s socks, have a way of just walking off between the ride from the dirty hamper and coming out of the dryer back into the clothes basket. And it’s always just one of them. Two go in but only one comes out,” she said.
    Gramps laughed. “That’s a