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The Angels Sang
by
RM Youngman
You could say that I had a fairly normal childhood; I lived with my mother and
my stepfather. I had a sister and a brother, but the glue in our family was my
grandma. Grandma kept everyone together and she made sure that our lives ran
smoothly.
For as long as I can remember Grandma had lived with us. It was hard to believe
that it had been sixteen years. Everyday for the last sixteen years, before
anyone else had woken up she sat in her old rocking chair.
She sat in her faded rocking chair, worn from all the days Of reading such as
this, She leaned over and picked up her old tattered Bible. Lovingly she set it
down and gently began to turn the pages. Silently she began to read,
Although she knew the words by heart. She read her Bible that way each and
everyday. She would get to the back cover only to return the next day And start
all over again. When she finished reading she closed her Bible And picked up her
rosary beads. Quietly she would say her Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers. Each and
every day she gave herself to prayer.
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