As a child I remember how much respect I had for grandpa. But, this one particular time my respect turned to fear. Grandpa was a regular ‘wart-remover’ guru. And wouldn’t you know I had one on my knee that tore just about every time I fell. Grandma, one of the kindest people I ever knew, assured me that all would be well. As a five year old child this seemed like major surgery to me. While sitting in her rocking chair just under the clock where Grandpa kept his wart remover, Grandma heisted me up on her lap. Feeling brave and safe in grandma’s arms, I let grandpa put the acid on the wart. That wasn’t so bad, but when he lit the match, that was bad! I just knew I was going to catch on fire. That’s when I let out a blood curdling scream. When my tirade ended I realized I hadn’t felt a thing and to this day the wart has never come back. Grandpa was so good at what he did. And the ‘you were so brave’ kiss from grandma made it all worthwhile.
by Paula Joann Painter (Ford)
Do any of you remember the verse grandpa taught us in Yiddish of Jesus Loves Me? I remember it well and taught it to my children. This may be a question we ask at the reunion for a door prize.