The misty clouds like we had enjoyed watching skim the mountains and valleys of North Carolina joined me in our vehicle on our way home from Brentwood, TN. It had been a relaxing, refreshing and lovely-to-the-eyes break in the mountains for almost a week, and then ended our break in Brentwood with our younger set of grands.

We had been there long enough to see flag football, junior high helmet football, eighth-grade football cheerleading, and several volleyball matches. There were more wins than losses, so the Anding athletic “association” got high marks.

There were some joyous reports of good grades on Math quizzes and enough study hall times to complete homework. Laughter won out over confrontation, and everyone happily volunteered to walk Rocky, the one and only canine attraction in the Anding household.

I knew I would miss the busy childhood schedule that we had manned while their parents took a break.  I could also rest assured that their parents would be deliberate and loving in keeping track with the loaded schedules in their children’s growing years. So why the cloud that hung over my head?

Grandparent love was the main lining of the cloud. I thought about childhood innocence and the wars that were raging against it. I sighed mentally thinking about the multitude of young lives pouring into the classrooms, bringing their families’ backgrounds with them. What ideas, words, and suggestions were our grands hearing?  Without the influential perimeters of Christian education that they had known, would they recognize worldly philosophies?

My ‘ancient’ years of education were vastly different from theirs. Our grands carried encyclopedias in their hands but also allurements that parents had to block and monitor. The enemy seemed much more adept in this generation.

When Othel stopped for gas, I got out to walk off the anxiety that I knew shouldn’t be a part of a believer. In just a few steps on the acres of concrete, I saw a coin. It was a penny! God knew I would understand — I needed a word from Him.

Years ago I read about a Christian who rejoiced over finding a penny because it meant a message from God — “In God We Trust.” I loved the thought and had adopted it for myself. The penny I stooped to pick up was a special encouragement.  I believed He was saying, “Keep trusting Me for all those you love.” Today this was a true “penny from heaven.”

Letters to Camille Anding may be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS, 39602.