From the time she was a little girl, I had my granddaughter, Lana, beside me in the garden.  At first all she wanted to do was play in the dirt but it didn't take long for her to catch the passion of watching seeds spring to life.   


Every year she would help me plant and water the garden and I loved the joy on her face as she picked the products of her labor…now, she didn't eat the vegetables, she just loved growing them!


In the past two years, life has changed.  I no longer have the big garden and Lana has moved far away.  Last year before she moved, I was desperate to hang on to our tradition so I bought a couple of big pots and tomato plants.  I had her plant them before she left and for the first time, the plants didn't make it.  For me, it felt like a mirror to my soul. 


This year I had decided not to plant anything.  I adopted the attitude that it was no use.   It would never be the same without sharing it with Lana. 


That attitude showed me I was still grieving.   Grief is something that never goes away.  It's important you recognize it because you can make steps to go forward and not stay stuck in one place.  I didn't know how to do this but God who is so rich in mercy, showed me the way.


It turned out that Lana came up for a couple of weeks this summer.   I had her for three days.  While she was here, I got those big flower pots and checked my seed supply.   Among the packets, I found a little plastic bag with the words “watermelon seeds” that contained two seeds that Lana had saved a few years before.   She got all excited and insisted we plant them.  I didn't have the heart to tell her they probably would not grow.


She planted her precious seeds and went back home with me promising I would water them.    Shortly after she left, I went on a trip and was gone for two weeks.  My sister faithfully watered them but sadly nothing happened.


I felt bad as I had hoped to be proven wrong and we could've shared a “garden” once more.   I ended up stirring the dirt around and sprinkled a few flower seeds on the top.   In just a few days, I saw a sprout.  It was definitely not a flower.  It was a watermelon!   One of Lana's seeds had come to life and with it the part of me that had been grieving came to life also.  It gave me hope.


It's been a month since that seed came to life.  I forgot how fast things can grow.  I've taken pictures of it to send to Lana and it's obvious how it grew overnight. 


This morning I looked out and a flower had appeared on the plant…a promise of something yet to be.   I couldn't wait to tell Lana!   


Will we get a watermelon? I don't know but that's not what's the most important.   I'm holding to the fact that God knew the heart of a grandmother who was grieving something she thought was dead but brought it back to life in a new way.  A good way.


As I was writing this, I forgot to mention that I wrote a children's book for Lana so she would remember all the time we spent together in the garden.  At that time, I didn't even remember I had those watermelon seeds.  This is the closing paragraph:


“We had lots of good vegetables from our garden this year.  I hope I can help GiGi next year.  Maybe we can plant watermelon!”


Coincidence?  No. It was a hug from God showing how much He loves me and Lana.  That's what I want Lana to remember.  That's the legacy.



Update:  Since I wrote this story a few months ago, we did get a couple of watermelons!    It has been a joy to share this with Lana.   I told her I would try and find a way to ship one to to her!

The Nutcracker

By Eileen Glotfelty • December 19, 2025
I had always looked forward to being a grandmother. Both of mine passed away before I was born and I couldn't wait to have my own. When my oldest granddaughter was three years old, we started a tradition. I took her to The Nutcracker Ballet every Christmas. I would buy her a fancy dress and it became an annual date that we both loved. At first it was just the two of us but over the years it grew as we added cousins and friends. It was always a special time. Two years ago, all of my granddaughters moved down south. As Christmas approached, my heart was heavy as I realized this tradition had come to an end. I struggled with this realization and I had to examine my heart to find out why the grief was so strong. The answer came as a surprise. I thought the real reason was about not wanting to accept change and letting go of tradition but underneath it all was a fear of being forgotten. I was afraid if I couldn't carry on the tradition then some day after I was gone, the memory of me would fade away. I wanted my life to mean something to someone. I wanted to be remembered. I want to leave a legacy but I had to ask myself if it is more important that they remember me or what I stood for? Do I want them to just remember the places we went and the things we did or do I want them to remember they saw Jesus in me and they were loved, valued and accepted. That's the truth and that's what I hope they remember. I'm thankful to say this story has an unexpected happy ending. Today I had the pleasure of taking my daughter and all three granddaughters to The Nutcracker. It was a miracle how it all worked out as we all live in different states. I don't know if we'll be able to go again next year but I'm not going to worry about it. All I know is a lost dream was restored and I have a different perspective. My oldest granddaughter is now 11 and takes ballet. I watched her face as she watched the performance. There was an understanding now of hard work and commitment. She has a love and a passion that was planted when she was a little girl. This tradition isn't about me. It's about planting love and goodness and hope into future generations. I told her if she ever dances in The Nutcracker, I'll be there.

It's Ok to Let Go

By Eileen Glotfelty • November 13, 2025
If you know little boys, you know they are an entity unto themselves. Growing up, I had one sister. I played with girls and never did any babysitting as a teenager so boys and their character were foreign to me. When I had my two sons, my eyes were opened. Suddenly I had these two little boys whose brains functioned in ways I couldn't grasp. Thankfully they never set anything on fire but there was a day I'll always remember. It was a warm, sunny day. The kids were playing outside in the backyard and my husband and I were inside. Suddenly we heard the kind of scream that propels a parent into fight or flight. It was coming from the backyard and it was our son. My husband jumped to his feet and started running toward the back door. He didn't even stop to put his shoes on. I wasn't far behind. I'll never forget the scene that awaited us. At first we didn't see our son as we looked out over the yard. That was because the screaming was coming from up above. As we looked toward the sound, there he was high in a tree towering above the house. He was hanging parallel to the ground with his hands and feet wrapped around a branch. My first thought was to yell, “what in the world possessed you to climb up there?” My husband didn't need clarification. He simply ran over and stood underneath the branch where our son was hanging. He took one look at his terrified face, extended his arms out in front of him and said, “Let go, I'll catch you.” My son started screaming that he couldn't do it but my husband calmly reassured him. My son had a choice to make and I watched the resignation cross over his face and he let go of the branch. His father caught him without a problem. When I think of that time, I am reminded that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. So many times I thought I was going in the right direction only to find out I ended up in a place I didn't want to be and I didn't know how to get out. It wasn't until I cried out to my Father in heaven that I saw the way and it always started with God saying, “Let go. Trust me.” Sometimes the way was easy and sometimes it was hard but He always “caught” me and put my feet on solid ground. Psalm 40:2 says: “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.” If you're finding yourself in a place where there seems to be no way out, I encourage you to say these three words, “God help me.” He will hear you and He will make a way. It's ok to let go.

Handicapped

By Eileen Glotfelty • October 31, 2025
In December of 2023, I had just returned home from a trip out west. After being terrified to fly for many years, I was proud of myself for flying and navigating one of the largest airports in the world. I came home and sat down in my recliner so I could unwind and relax. After a little while, I stood up and felt pain in my left knee. It happened suddenly, out of the blue and took me on a journey I didn't want to take. Since then I have had multiple doctors visits, several rounds of physical therapy and arthroscopic procedures on both knees. This was the first time I faced mobility issues and I watched my confidence fade and fear rise up where it had never been before. I found myself looking at the ground with every step, making decisions about my social life based on how much walking I'd need to do, getting a wheelchair at the airport, and using a handicapped placard in my car. This disability controlled my life. Last week I finished my last round of physical therapy. I am thankful to say it helped me. I've been able to go grocery shopping, take short walks and stand while talking to others. Things I used to take for granted. Today I had an appointment. When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only two spots available. One was a handicapped spot right in front of the door. The other was all the way down near the end of the lot. By habit, I pulled into the handicapped spot and immediately the thought came to mind, “do I really need to park in the handicapped spot?” I found myself backing out and driving to the end of the lot. It was after my appointment when I was walking back to my car that I heard this still small voice say, “You are no longer handicapped so why do you act like you still are?” If you have ever had an epiphany moment, this was one of mine. I had gotten comfortable being handicapped. There were actually some benefits to it such as the parking and special assistance at the airport, and if I'm being honest, being able to use my handicap as an excuse to get out of doing what I didn't want to do. I felt justified in asking for help. It was ok at the time but all through this ordeal I had asked God to heal me and now that I was in a better place, I was afraid to let go. This revelation went deeper than a physical handicap. It affected me mentally and spiritually as well. I was afraid to let go because then I wouldn't have anywhere to hide but in doing so, I gave power to fear. It affected me spiritually because I doubted God really cared about me. The healing was taking too long and I was afraid I would never get my life back. If you know God, you know He doesn't always do things our way. This was a valley moment for me. It's been a place of searching and questioning if I believed He was good and His Word was true. I found myself telling Him, “God, I've done everything I know to do.” That was the problem. I've lived my life thinking nothing good happens unless I earn it. I couldn't have been farther from the truth. I have to tell you that as I walked back and forth to my car, there was a sense of freedom. It felt good. Now, hopefully, I can look at my life through a different lens. I have to be realistic because of my age. There are some things I can't do now, like climbing ladders, but it's not because I'm handicapped, it's just life and I'm learning to be ok with that.