Tom glanced over at him. “No, go ahead,” he agreed.
“‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD,” Grant read aloud, “‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
“It says that in the Bible?” Tom asked, turning to face Grant.
“Yes, Sir,” Grant nodded. “Jeremiah 29:11,” he said from memory. He blinked as he noticed how intently the stranger was staring at him now. “Would you like me to pray with you?” Grant heard himself say before he could stop himself.
“I’ve never really prayed before,” Tom shook his head, raising his hands as if indicating he wasn’t sure what to do.
James 5:15-16 played in Grant’s head: “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven… Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other, so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”
“My wife died twelve years ago. She always did all the praying for both of us,” Tom offered. “Lung cancer,” he added by way of explanation. “Things just haven’t been the same since I lost her.”
“I can’t imagine,” Grant shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“She was a good woman,” Tom nodded.
Ephesians 4:11-13 provided the continuation of the inner-monolog in Grant’s head: “It was Christ who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God’s people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.”
Grant swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe he was sitting face-to-face with a man who had been given only months to live, being practically served up an opportunity to witness and feeling convicted to do so. Still, he wished Hailey was there; she was so good at this sort of thing.
Tom reached his hand out to Grant. “Will you pray for us?”
“Okay, God, I get it!” Grant wanted to scream. Instead, he smiled and took Tom’s hand. The words began to flow from his mouth with such extreme ease that he knew he was but a mouthpiece. Even as he spoke, he made a mental note that he’d never find a speech writer this good in any political arena. There was no fluff. There was no fancy oratorical performance full of pretension but lacking substance and sincerity because the promises were not empty or oozing with self-importance. His words were straight-forward, from the heart, full of reminders of God’s unfailing love and delivered with a humbleness of spirit that said he understood the concept of grace. As Tom began squeezing Grant’s hand more tightly with each passing word, Grant knew that an old man he had never met in his life before, seemingly, meeting him by coincidence today had been a part of the plan all along.
Tom was smiling at Grant when a nurse came to get him. “Tom, it’s time for your yogurt. Your granddaughter is waiting on you,” she said.
“This here’s a Harvard boy,” Tom motioned at Grant.
The nurse winked at Grant. “He’s got a way of charming the nurses around here, Tom. Has he done charmed you too?”
Tom followed the nurse to the door. When he got to the exit, he slowly turned back around. “What’s your name, kid?” he called.
Grant smiled and tipped his hat at the old man. “Grant…and it was nice to meet you, Tom.”
Tom pushed the door open and looked back over his shoulder before going out to meet his granddaughter. “I’ll pray for you, Grant,” he declared with a sincere nod.
“What are we gonna do without my dad here today to interrogate the nurses and harass the doctors?” Grant laughed as he and Hailey sat waiting for Grant’s treatment to begin. “I swear he orders them around like he knows the first thing about Leukemia!”
“He just knows what I know,” Hailey smiled, sitting aside the copy of Seventeen magazine she had been mindlessly flipping through, “that he would move Heaven and Earth to get you well.”
Just then, a little girl skipped into the room, and she immediately caught Grant and Hailey’s attention, most likely because she had the same red hair as Leah. “Hi,” the friendly four-year-old waved to them. “My name’s Jillian!” Jillian’s smile stretched across her face, her white, freckled cheeks glowing pink with the radiance of her grin. Her tiny chin rested on top of the teddy bear she was holding tightly to her chest. The bear was brown with big brown eyes; his tattered body was clearly minus some of its original stuffing, everything about him indicating years of love.
“Hi, Jillian!” Hailey smiled back. “My name’s Hailey. You sure are cute!”
“Are you sick?” Jillian asked bluntly.
The question caught Hailey off-guard. “No,” she shook her head slowly. “I’m not sick…but my boyfriend is.”
“I know,” Jillian declared. “He doesn’t have any hair.” Jillian turned her attention to Grant. “What’s your name?”
Grant smiled at the inquisitive little girl and told her his name.
Hailey gently squeezed the foot of the teddy bear that now dangled below Jillian’s arm. “What’s your bear’s name?”
“Zachariah,” Jillian replied quickly.
“Zachariah?” Grant grinned with a chuckle.
“I thought it was a good name for a bear,” Jillian declared with a shrug.
“And it is,” Hailey smiled.
“Yeah,” Grant agreed. “Everybody’s got a bear named Teddy…but I bet you’re the only one with a bear named Zachariah. It must mean he’s special.”
Jillian liked that and, without hesitation, she climbed into Grant’s lap. “Zachariah Van Landingham,” she declared with utmost sincerity.
Hailey smiled, admiring the ease with which Grant welcomed his new friend.
“Do you want to hold Zachariah?” Jillian offered Grant.
“Sure,” Grant smiled as he took the bear. “Hello, Zachariah. How’s it going?”
“He’s shy I guess,” Jillian shrugged when Zachariah didn’t reply.
Grant held the bear in front of his face. “No, I’m not!” he said in a cartoon voice. He nuzzled the bear against Jillian’s face. “I’m not shy at all, Silly Billy.” He turned the bear to himself. “Grant, this is my best friend Jillian.” He made loud kissing noises as he pecked the bear’s mouth against Jillian’s cheek.
