A Good Man
Today, I went to the temple with my good friend, Naomi. The sweetest old man did our confirmations and he reminded me a lot of my grandpa Barton. Then, a little later, I was stalking my cousins and my aunt on Facebook and looked through my Aunt Debbie's album with pictures of my grandpa. He passed away in October, and I know we all miss him dearly, but I can honestly say that I know that he is with us a lot more than we think.
There was a comment on one of the pictures of Grandpa with a bunch of the little munchkin cousins and it said something to the extent that nobody could say the Bartons don't spend enough time with their grandkids. As I read that comment, I thought about how true it was.
Although I grew up very far away from my Barton family, I never lacked in love from my grandpa and I always knew that he loved me. He's always been one of heros, and looking through pictures, I realized it was not because he was an extraordinary man in his earthly possessions or notoriety but because he passed down to every generation three things: hard work, the power of faith, and love. And nothing, no wealth and no fame could ever match the value of those three beliefs.
I'm so grateful for his example to me. I'm grateful that I had the chance to know him and learn from him. I'm grateful that he showed me the true meaning of a good man.