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Station 13

Jesus, down from my cross

The moment that my grandpa’s death struck reality for me was when my sister started to cry right before burying him. Her tears reminded me of him, one of the brightest lights in my world for such a long time.

Station 13

My grandpa lived with my family for about twenty years, making up a large majority of my childhood and adolescence. He was always quite healthy, and very holy. He walked to the nearby church at least twice a day and prayed through the Liturgy of the Hours and did 5 Rosaries a day, or at least it seemed like that to me.

Something that was distinct about my grandpa was his gentleness. He avoided gossip, talked well of others, and enjoyed eating with family and loved ones. His smile was so soft, yet could touch everybody in the room deeply.

During his last years, he started to become more blind, loss of hearing, and was not able to walk as well. Despite these obstacles, he held his daily cross with gracefulness, kindness, and gentleness. Everyday, even when I was kid, this is the way he carried his cross.

He taught me that this is how I want to carry my cross daily. With the same gracefulness, kindness, and gentleness. My grandpa’s life was a beacon on the hill, and how I wish to shine half as bright. Just because my grandpa has passed doesn’t mean that his light does not continue to shine.

I think Jesus’s brightest moment was when he died on the cross. It was so bright that it never since has faded. It is only now that I’m seeing that the light was brightest because his love was the greatest.

Lord, thank you for the beautiful life of my grandpa. Please help me strive to be a light in my community, wherever I am called. This world is already so dark, and I know my innerworld can sometimes be too. Please let my heart be opened to embrace your light, and gentle love.

Dan Nguyen

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