The Glory of the Stars

Psalm 23:4

King James Version

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

 

On his 85^th birthday, Grampa suffered a stroke. He deteriorated gradually until in his fifth week, he lapsed into a coma. He had become a very good friend of mine. Two years before, I had become very interested in the stars and astronomy. Dad taught at Helderberg College in South Africa, and the college librarian, Mrs. Gorle was a friend of our family, so she welcomed me into the library as a full-fledged member. I methodically read book after book in the astronomy section of the library. Grampa watched me reading these books.

Concerned, he said to me one day, “What are you reading?”

Enthusiastically I told him what I knew about the stars and planets.

“You know,” he said, “Stars are only balls of gas; they’re not really important to your life. You’re just wasting your time.”

This didn’t deter me; my interest had been piqued. One day I came home with a book entitled Astronomy and the Bible, published, if I remember correctly, about 1905. Interested, as usual in what I was reading, he picked it up and read the title. Then he leafed through the book. He had the habit of studying the Bible every day, and the title caught his interest.

“Mind if I borrow this?” He asked.

“Go right ahead, Grampa!” I encouraged him

He disappeared into his room and read it from cover to cover. The fascination of astronomy had caught him, too. Now he was competing with his ten-year old grandson to get the next astronomy book from the library. One day he came back with a brand-spanking-new copy of The Glory of the Stars, by Merlin L Neff, that the library had just put on their shelves. I was super excited and not a little jealous that he had found it before I did. We both read it and had a lot to talk about together.

Now, not much more than a year later, he lay in his bed dying. One morning he woke up from the coma. People gathered around, and visited with them on a one-by-one basis. Then he asked for me. I went in. He was as lucid as he had always been, although he was very weak. “Wilton, as you can see, I’m dying. Promise me that you will see me again in heaven.”

I promised. I was not yet a baptized Christian, but I promised and meant it. He died later on that day.

By your grace only, Lord, I am relying on You to help me keep that promise. And I ask you, Dear Reader, to make that same promise!