Gramma's Fridge

Janet Rubin



Cassidy worked fast- Grandma would arrive for Mother's Day dinner soon. She attached a piece of paper to her pink clipboard and gathered her colored pencils. Old enough to be resourceful, she did not ask me how to spell "Happy Mother's Day," but carefully copied the words from the Hallmark card I'd opened earlier in the day. With strokes of pink and purple, she colored the homemade card in, adding hearts and flowers, then folding it.


Mom hadn't been in the door for a full minute before Cassidy was whispering through a cupped hand and asking me if she could give Grandma her picture. Go ahead, I told her. Mom's reaction didn't dissapoint. She commented on the neatly printed letters, oohed and ahhed over the drawings. After giving Cassidy a squeeze, Mom said, "Thank you so much. I love this card. Do you know where it's going to go?"

Cassidy's eyes lit up with knowing. "Your refridgerator?"

She'd guessed right. I'll admit to getting choked up, seeing the delight in my child. She'd made something, offered it up and then experienced the joy of both receiving praise and bringing joy to a loved one. And her work would be displayed on Grandma's fridge, where friends and family would see it. Kind of the eight-year-old's version of getting published, I mused.

Then again, it wasn't like being published. Because being published is more about "being good enough," than it is about being loved. Grandma's fridge is all about love. Not once has mom ever told one of my children to "do it over and I'll consider giving it a spot on the Fridgidaire." Never has she said, "Frankly, I think you don't have what it takes. Have you considered that art isn't your gift?"

When it comes to the grown up world of publishing, I'm glad there are standards that have to do with excellence. After all, when we look for something to read, we want to read something well-written. I hope to improve my craft as much as I can so my writing will be excellent and will entertain and bless my readers.But I'm also glad that I have a Heavenly Father who cares more about the expressions of my heart, and who will hang my less than perfect work on His fridge.

Lord, many of us are in Dallas this weekend, wanting to grow and learn as writers. Help us to do the best we can with the ability You've given us. And thank You for loving us just as we are and accepting all of our humble offerings with gladness. You are the best Father. We love You. Amen.