Shortly after I arrived, I caught a cold, as I was run down from the long trip. Because Grandpa was elderly and susceptible to sickness, I was confined to my room so as not to risk infecting Grandpa or any of the other children with my cold.

Being a ten-year-old with plenty of energy, I was none too pleased that I had to stay in my room. I wasn't feeling terribly sick and I hadn't been allowed by mom to go outside or swim on account of my cold, so I was getting bored. I decided to expend a little energy by taking a brisk walk around the room.

I had been part walking, part marching, and part skipping around the room for about half an hour, when someone knocked on our door to inform Mom that there was a strange sound of footsteps coming from somewhere and that Grandpa was trying to determine the source. I was quickly discovered to be the source of the noise.

Apparently Grandpa was in the next room working when he heard what he thought was someone walking on the roof. This alarmed him, as there was no reason for anyone to be on the roof. So he had some of the guys check out the roof to see what was going on. There was, of course, no one on the roof and I was slightly embarrassed and a little impressed that I had been the cause of such a commotion. I think my dear mother was much more embarrassed than I, but thankfully Grandpa got a big laugh out of what transpired, and suggested that I get outside to run around and play to burn off some of that energy. I definitely agreed with him on that decision.

Another time, I developed an earache from getting water in my ears while swimming, and was in quite a bit of pain. That night, Grandpa gave a talk over dinner. As I was over jet lag by this time and more adjusted to the later schedule, I didn't want to go up to bed, because I was interested in hearing what Grandpa was saying. But my ear was hurting, so I instead went and lay down on a couch that was in the dining room.

When Grandpa saw me go lay down, he asked my dad if I was okay. Daddy told him that I had an earache. Grandpa right away stopped his talk and came over to sit on the couch where I was laying. He laid both hands on my ear, prayed desperately for it, and claimed healing for my earache before resuming his talk again. He was concerned that I was okay, and he would check on me frequently until my earache was better. He also gave me advice and demonstrations on how to get any water out of my ear when I got out of the pool. He advised that I wear earplugs while swimming and gave me a set of the specially-made earplugs that he used. Grandpa was always doing things like this which showed a lot of concern for me.

I spent most of my days with the children, joining in on whatever classes, activities, or playtime they were having. I don't remember everything we did together, but I do remember the interaction I had with Grandpa, because it was special and something that I looked forward to. Because he would swim with the kids almost every day, I would get to see him then.

This house had a set of windows in the children's room that overlooked the pool. I'd never seen anything like that before—or since for that matter. There was a ledge at the deep end of the pool that you could stand on, and if you swam underwater, you could look into the room inside through the window that was under the water. The room you could look into from the pool was an office where a few secretaries worked, and I remember us children putting on masks and swimming underwater to wave to the secretaries that were working inside. Grandpa would sometimes join us, and we'd make foolish faces and gestures or otherwise try to get the attention of the women working inside the room.

Angela Smith (www.angela-smith.org) was one of the secretaries who worked in that room and I remember she was always obliging with us children, waving back and being animated. Sometimes we would do hand motions for well-known songs and see if by our enthusiasm we could get those in the room to join us.

The kids' room, which was on the second floor, was directly over the deep end of the pool. Grandpa would, upon occasion, let us jump out of the window into the pool. I thought that was just the greatest, especially because it didn't seem that Maria or Sara were too thrilled that he let us do it. He carefully supervised us though, and we could only do so when he was there and had given us express permission to do so—and no horseplay allowed.

Grandpa decided one day that he wanted to teach me how to dive. I was a bit fearful of diving as any dive I attempted normally sent me straight to the bottom of the pool. Because I would frequently get earaches if I got water in my ears, I generally stayed away from anything that would put me deep underwater. So Grandpa wanted to teach me how to do a shallow dive. The problem was, every time I tried to do a shallow dive, I would belly-flop instead.

There was no diving board, but in order to teach the children how to swim and dive, Grandpa had built a makeshift diving board over the deep end of the pool. It was covered with carpet so that it was soft and no one could hurt themselves on it.

For at least two weeks, every time Grandpa swam with the kids, he would spend ten or fifteen minutes with me instructing me how to dive. He would show me the correct body positioning, and spent a lot of time encouraging me that I could do it, that I could learn. He tried to convince me that I didn't need to be scared.

As bold and fearless as I was in some things, for some reason standing at the edge of the diving board terrified me. It's not that the consequences were so terrible, but I knew I was either going to do a deep dive, or I was going to belly-flop, neither of which I wanted to do. I would try to convince myself, "Okay, this time I'm going to do it." Then I'd walk to the edge of the diving board, put myself in the proper position and promptly chicken out.

Dear Grandpa would stand there and demonstrate how to dive, and he patiently helped me to overcome my fears. I finally did overcome my fear of doing a belly flop—probably because I'd done them enough times. He continued to encourage me and tried to teach me the proper technique. I made an effort, but I could not do a shallow dive correctly. As patiently as Grandpa worked with me—after about two weeks he said, "Well honey, I don't know. There are a lot of things that are important to learn in life, but I'm not sure diving is one of them. It's a nice thing to know how to do and all, but it's not something you absolutely have to learn. We don't want you to be diving deep because it hurts your ears and gives you earaches. So maybe it's not that important to learn how to shallow dive."

Poor man, I think he had to accept defeat in teaching me how to dive, but he did it sweetly and graciously without making me feel bad in the slightest.

Grandpa was very verbally appreciative—that was his way. Every time you saw him, he would say something encouraging or complimentary. He frequently thanked me for sacrificing and forsaking my dad to help them. When my dad left us, I knew that we were forsaking him because he needed to go and help Grandpa, and having met Grandpa earlier, I felt a connection with him, so I was happy in a way that dad was able to be a blessing to Grandpa. During that visit, there were numerous times that Grandpa would thank me for sacrificially giving up our dad. He would tell me that the Lord would reward me for it. It was always encouraging and made me feel like he knew that it was hard at times to be apart from Daddy, but that he appreciated the sacrifice and the fact that we were willing to do it. He would put his hand on my head and pray, "Bless her, Lord. Bless these dear children who have given to You. Bless her life. Make it a happy one. Provide her needs. Give her and her brother and sister great rewards for all they have given to You."

I never felt like Grandpa had taken my dad away or was making my dad do anything. I felt as though it was a decision that we had made along with our parents, and that the Lord would reward us for that sacrifice—difficult as it may have been. I truly believe that my life has been blessed, charmed, and wonderful in so many ways, and I believe that has a lot to do with God's blessings and provision upon us in return for our giving to Him, as well as the prayers of my dad and Grandpa and Maria.

Once I was mostly over jet lag and more adjusted to the schedule, I asked if I could sleep with the other children instead of my mom. David, Davida, and Techi slept in a room adjoining Alf and Sara's. They had two bunk beds. They were planning on receiving Mene—Grandpa's granddaughter—shortly, but since she was not yet come and there was an extra bed, they agreed to let me sleep with the other kids. I was happy about that.

One night I awoke as the door to the kids' room opened and Maria walked in. She went over and checked on the children. She made sure their sheet was covering them. She checked that the fan was situated properly so it was circulating the air but not blowing directly on anyone. When she saw that I was awake, she came over to where I was sleeping and said hi and prayed for me. It was sweet.

I observed that she would regularly come and check on the children in the early morning, shortly before dawn, and as much as I could I tried to wake up when she came in, as then I got a few minutes of her time and attention. She would always pray for me. After a few mornings of finding me awake, she started bringing me advance copies of children's comics that were in an early stage of production, and I always enjoyed that.

I enjoyed the times I spent with Davidito, Davida, Techi, and their caregivers. Sara was extremely animated and enthusiastic in everything she did. She had a way of turning an ordinary Bible story into something extraordinary. She would frequently do things like stop in the middle of the class, pull out the dress-up box, assign everyone a character, and we'd dress up and act out the rest of the story. School times also were fun. I was used to my teachers going through much more of a set curriculum, whereas Sara would interject all kinds of interesting things that would liven up whatever school subject was being taught.

We also had lots of playtime. The children had a terrific setup in that house. Grandpa had given Alf and Sara and the kids the biggest room in the house, which consisted of two adjoining rooms, with the most enormous bathroom that I have ever seen, which was also part walk-in closet. They had a whole cupboard full of arts and crafts supplies. Arts and crafts time was always an activity of choice. They had a beautiful fish tank with goldfish and a video setup in their room. They had a huge, two-story dollhouse that one of the handymen had made for them. We chose dolls to represent us and most of the other Home members as well, and all four of us children would play dollhouse together and make believe all kinds of stories.

The owners of the house (for it was a rented house) apparently had had some young daughters, as they had left some ballet tutus. Davida and Techi were into ballet, as was I. So we'd dress up in the tutus and spend time poring over books that showed all the ballet steps. We watched the video of the Swan Lake ballet countless times, and would try to imitate all the ballet moves we could. We'd try to rope Davidito in to provide the man that could lift the girls, but we were never too successful. He wasn't all that interested—I can't imagine why, ha!