Granny Ruth
My grandmother’s name was Ruth. I always thought she was the best grandmother in the world, but then, you probably thought the same thing. Born in the Netherlands and reared in the Michigan, she bore all the stereotypical characteristics of her Dutch ancestry: obsessively clean, famously frugal, affectionately reserved, and religiously devout. Whenever we visited I saw her and Grandpa enjoy coffee, read from the Bible and a devotional book, and pray together. Every single morning. As an adult, I remember asking her, “Grandma, how many times have you read the Bible through?” She said, “Oh, I don’t know. Our church had a campaign called Read it through in ’62 . I’ve read it every year since then, but how many times before that, I can’t recall.” I helped her wash dishes when I was five or six years old. She said, “Steve, say the books of the Bible for me.” When I told her I couldn’t, she was alarmed. “Well then, we’d better get started. Three sets of books begin with the letter ‘T’: The...