Happily Held Beliefs

Granny Hat was four years old when she learned the truth. It was shocking, it really was. And disappointing. She had dreamed of driving over the Golden Gate Bridge ever since she was little, like three years old. There it was, the San Francisco Bay glittering in the sun, cobalt blue like she pictured. The city scape was outlined by towering skyscrapers just like she knew it would be. The sea gulls dipped and dived over Alcatraz Island just as they should. But the famous bridge that inspired art, poetry and dreams was NOT gold at all, it was orange, a very ugly orange.

Granny’s dad explained it all very well, the gold rush; the ships sailing into the deep bay transporting miners to their claims. The channel from the Pacific to the harbor was the Gate to the Gold; the bridge was just the span across it for north and south bound travelers. That bridge could have been purple, lime green or bright white and still be called The Golden Gate. Granny Hat couldn’t face the truth so soon. Father drove north over the bridge and into the Happy Time Rainbow Tunnel while she worked it out with herself to keep believing in the sparkling, golden bridge she had imagined. It would be her happily held belief.

From the revelation that Paul Revere didn’t really complete his ride as chronicled by Longfellow to the news that swimming after lunch really won’t give you cramps, maturity comes with enlightenment and often disappointment. The legends of our youth become precious memories; the more they are repeated their validity grows. It is hard to let go.

This morning Granny’s church sang To God Be the Glory written by Fanny Crosby and William H. Doane. It reminded Granny Hat of another one of her happily held beliefs. Her grandma Kathryn Doane Lloyd told her years ago that William Doane, the famous hymn music composer was her relative, something like a great great great uncle or perhaps a great great great second cousin once removed. Granny has loved pondering that she was related to this musician who graced the church with so many beautiful, moving tunes.

Several weeks ago, Granny’s nephew Xavier who hails from Down Under, came to Montana for a visit. Together, they poured over family archives and scrapbooks to help Xavier find information for a family tree project. The deeper they dug, the stranger the stories. Xavier’s insatiable curiosity and meticulous handling of the archives was remarkable for a 14 year old. He noticed details Granny had overlooked many times.

As they did a deep dive into the Doane and Lloyd ancestors however, doubts began to arise about this supposed great great great William H. It seemed like maybe they were actually related to other more common place William Doanes with differing middle initials. What complicated it all is that often people several generations back traded between their first and middle names willy nilly.

For instance, Grandma Lloyd’s name was Ellen Kathryn but she usually went by Kathryn. Grandma Lewis on the other side went by Pauline when her first name was really Sarah. Granny’s paternal Grandfather was E. E. Lewis but was it Everett Earl or Earl Everett? There seemed to be two schools of thought.
The short of it all is that the amateur anthropologists were no longer sure that their happily held belief about William H. Doane could be substantiated. What we know for sure is that we are brothers and sisters in Christ with the hymn writers William and Fanny. So, we are related after all. “Great things He has taught us, great things He has done and great our rejoicing thru’ Jesus the Son. But purer and highter and greater will be our wonder, our transport when Jesus we see.”

Maybe Granny will get a chance to ask William H. Doane if he is her great great great second cousin once removed when she sees him in heaven. Then they can have a heart to heart about the changes in church worship music over the years and bemoan the giant screens that have replaced the hymn books Doane so diligently compiled and edited. Nevermind, they will be too busy praising the Lamb.

Granny Hat still loves legends and fables. They hail from the time-honored tradition of story telling, often revealing many things that are true in real life. She recommends enjoying the legends but trusting in “testimony that is sure and in judgements that are true”. (Psalm 19)

This Thanksgiving, Granny Hat is thankful for her memories, the childhood dreams that shaped her early years. She is thankful for belief in things that have always been true and always will be; God’s mercy, lovingkindness, salvation and eternal life. Granny is thankful that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.

Happily held beliefs can be replaced with “certainty of things hoped for and proof of things not seen”. (Hebrews 11:1)

There is a swirly, sparkling snow falling while Granny Hat writes today. She has been dreaming of a White Thanksgiving. Some dreams come true.