“Grandpa, why do you call your own number every day?” The little boy had been watching his grandfather do something strange each morning. He would sit down in his old armchair, pick up the landline phone, and dial… his own number. He’d let it ring a few times, then gently hang up. One day, the boy finally asked, curious, “Grandpa, why do you do that?” The old man smiled softly, his eyes distant. “When your grandma was alive,” he said, “she used to call me every day around this time. And even though I know no one’s going to answer now… dialing the number makes me feel like I’m still waiting for her call.” The boy didn’t say a word. But the next day, right at that same time, he picked up the phone and called the house. Grandpa’s hands shook as he answered. And on the other end, he heard the sweetest voice in the world: “Hi, Grandpa… I just wanted you to know that someone’s still thinking of you right about now.” Sometimes love doesn’t die — it just changes voices. And sometimes, all it takes to bring it back to life… is a single phone call.

Posted by Fred Bassett