The Truth Is the Light by Vanessa Davie Griggs Page A

saw Pastor Landris looking his way.
    Pastor Landris smiled and waved. Clarence smiled and waved back.

Chapter 8

    Take away the dross from the silver, and there shall come forth a vessel for the finer.
    â€”Proverbs 25:4

    J ohnnie Mae Landris visited her mother at the nursing home. Since her oldest sister, Rachel, put their mother in that place almost three months ago—in accordance with her mother’s wishes before the Alzheimer’s had progressed to the stage where she was presently—Johnnie Mae had made it her business to visit once a week, sometimes twice.
    Johnnie Mae had heard far too many tales about the awful things that can take place in a nursing home. And even though this nursing home’s staff appeared to be both caring and professional, she still wanted them to know that someone was attentive and that they were being monitored, at least to the best of her ability. No one on staff would want to deal with her if her mother was ever abused, neglected, or mistreated. She wasn’t going to stand for that even a little bit.
    â€œHi, Mama. What are you doing?” Johnnie Mae said when she found her mother in the activity room on Tuesday afternoon. Johnnie Mae liked to come on Thursdays, but she often changed up her routine so the staff wouldn’t get comfortable with when to anticipate her visits.
    Countess Gates looked up. “Hi, baby.”
    â€œSo, you’re playing checkers, I see.”
    â€œYes. This is my friend, Ranny. He claims he’s a checkers man, but I’ve beat him two out of three times already.”
    Having made his next move, Gramps looked up. “Hi. You must be Johnnie Mae.”
    â€œYes, I am,” she said, impressed more with the fact that her mother must have said something about her for him to know who she might be.
    â€œYou can just call me Gramps. Everybody else does.” He extended his right hand.
    Johnnie Mae shook his hand. “All right, Gramps.”
    â€œEverybody but me,” Countess said, concentrating on her next move. “He’s not my gramps. I just call him Ranny.”
    As Johnnie Mae sat in the vacant seat at the table, she thought about her own younger years. Back when people would tell her what they preferred being called, and she would persist in ignoring their wishes and insist on calling them by their real names. She was thankful she’d been delivered from doing things like that. It had been disrespectful and inconsiderate of her. If this man preferred she call him Gramps, then Gramps it would be.
    â€œA triple jump, and now you need to crown me!” Countess said, satisfied.
    Gramps smiled and sat back in his chair as he shook his head. “How did you just do that?” He studied the board that now gave Countess four kings with his two lonely checkers. “Well, this game is all over but the shouting.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Johnnie Mae said, directing her comment to Gramps. “Maybe I distracted you.”
    Countess waved her daughter off. “Ah, you didn’t distract him nothing. I’ve set this play up on him so many times he should have seen it coming a mile away. He never does, which is why . . .” She watched him, with nowhere to go, move one of his checkers. “I . . .” She jumped both his checkers. “Keep winning.” She removed his two checkers from the board.
    Gramps grinned. “That’s okay. I’ll get you next time.”
    â€œNext time, smext time,” Countess said. “He’s been trying to get me to play chess with him. That’s what folks do when they can’t beat you in checkers.”
    Gramps chuckled.
    â€œYou know how to play chess?” Johnnie Mae asked Gramps.
    â€œA little. One of my grandsons has been trying to teach me.” Gramps stood. “Well, I’m going to go to my room now.”
    â€œYou don’t have to leave on my account,” Johnnie Mae said.
    â€œOh, I’m