Email To My Brother: Sharing Candy With Jesus

I was getting rid of some of our mother's things today.
     I thought my buddy Maloney's mother-in-law could have the old rocking chair pop bought mom a long time ago, but it was in too poor a condition for even Maloney's mother to have.
     I also went through a bag of a bunch of religious cards. Cards from funerals and St. Jude asking our mother for money and giving her cheap jewelry in return. Actually, it was my three-year-old granddaughter and I who went through it, and, like I thought, it was a bunch of trash.
      My granddaughter kept some of it.
     She’d go, “This was grandma’s and now it’s mine?” Which was her way of asking, “Can I have this?”
     “Yes,” I’d tell her. “That was grandma’s and now it’s yours.”
     Some colorful rosary beads. A bracelet made up of little wooden squares with pictures of the Virgin Mary, Jesus on the cross, and various saints on them that I bought for mom once when I was downtown. One thing you might remember, because I remember it from when I was a wee laddie, was a picture of Jesus with His eyes closed. If you held it over a light and then went into a dark room, it would glow and Jesus’ eyes would open. Kind of like that framed picture of Jesus mom’s parents had over their bed. The one where Jesus’ eyes would follow you when you moved around the room. How could you ever get romantic with a picture of Jesus hanging over your bed? Especially when His eyes were always looking at you.
      I wonder what ever happened to that picture.
      Your wife probably has it over your bed.
     Anyway...
      My granddaughter got a kick out of that glowing picture of Jesus. She kept having me hold it over a light, then we’d go into a closet and watch the miracle happen.
     “Look,” I’d tell her, “Jesus has His eyes open.”
     And, in the darkness, I’d hear my granddaughter blow Him a kiss. She showed it to her mother and then her grandmother. That picture of Jesus became her friend. Later, she asked me if she could have an Andes chocolate mint.
     “Does Jesus want you to have one?” I asked her.
     “Yes, He does,” she said.
     Later, she said, “Jesus wants me to have another one.”
     So I gave her another one.
     “Be sure you share with Jesus,” I told her, and she did.
      She broke the candy in half. One piece was smaller than the other.
     “Jesus wants the smaller one,” she told me.
     Crazy kid.
  
   

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