The Weight of Words

“I’ve been to every thrift store in town,” I say. I lean on the kitchen counter. “I can’t find an old Scrabble game anywhere.”

“Why are you looking for Scrabble?” my mom asks.

“I want to put magnets on the back of the tiles and use them to write quotes on my fridge.”

“Hold on,” she says. “I’ll be right back.”

She leaves the room. When she comes back, she’s carrying a dark red Scrabble box. She sets it on the counter. The top of the box is layered with dust, save for the places her hands held it.

“This is yours,” she says.

“That’s the game Grandma Mary gave me,” I say. I shake my head. “I can’t use those tiles. I don’t want to ruin them.”

“Grandma Mary loved words,” my mom says. “I know she’d be happy for you to use the game this way.”

I open the box.

The wooden squares inside bring back memories of ninety-year-old Great Grandma Mary teaching me how to play Scrabble. Her hands shook from the Parkinson’s as she placed tiles on the board. Grandma Mary was brittle but brilliant. Her vocabulary was unmatched. She could play words far beyond the comprehension of my ten-year-old mind.

But the best part about Grandma Mary wasn’t the words she played on the board. It was the words she spoke to me.

Grandma Mary was an encourager. She spoke words that built me up. Words that made me feel special. Words that let me know I was loved.

Grandma Mary has been gone for over a decade now. But what she taught me about encouraging others will always be with me.

I close the lid to the box.

“You know, I think I will use this set for my magnets,” I say.

Because every morning, when I open my fridge, the Scrabble tiles will be a reminder for me.

A reminder of a kind lady who loved others.

And a reminder to use my own words to build people up.

* * *

1 Thessalonians 5:11 (NIV) "Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing."