I’m sure the water was cold, but I don’t remember that. I remember soft snowflakes on my face as my grandfather prayed. I remember the sound of “Amazing Grace” coming from the small congregation on the pond bank. I remember the heavy quilt they wrapped me in when I came out of the water, and I remember the warm stove at my grandparents’ house where we gathered later to eat and talk and celebrate.

I remember the feeling of security and love staying wrapped around me like a quilt all these fifty-one years.

Those years have not been filled with all happy days, of course. We’ve walked into some freezing water along the way. We’ve faced some tragic days and some traumatic losses. But, the quilt has remained firmly in place.

Even in the worst of times, I have always known I am loved. By God and by His people, which includes my large and wonderful family.

I hope you have a similar story to tell. I’d love to hear it. If you don’t, I’d be happy to tell you how to write it.