I yearn to see you again, recalling your tears, so that I may be filled with joy, as I recall your sincere faith that first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and that I am confident lives also in you. // 2 Timothy 1:4-5

Sunshine poured through the kitchen windows across the dining table on the crisp fall morning. The sun’s rays combined with the countless family photos warmed the room, inviting me and anyone who entered to feel at home.

My boss, Susan, had invited me over for breakfast: sourdough pancakes from her starter that might have been older than me. We sat and exchanged stories while we took bites and sipped our coffee. The front door revolved through the meal, welcoming members of her family who’d heard there were pancakes. Children, grandchildren, and one great-grandchild filled the space and filled the gaps in her stories. I’d only been in town a month or so, and already I was welcomed into the family through the generosity and hospitality of its matriarch.

Isn’t that just like a grandmother though?

My own grandmother opened her home to me during breaks in grad school just as she and grandpa had for my family when I was a toddler. And during the years in between, when I didn’t live in their house, I may as well have with how often I was there. The door was always open as was the invitation to stay.

Grandma was my first introduction to a love of God through her devout faith and the immeasurable generosity that flows from it. She continues to inspire me today, as does Susan, and the memories of all of the grandmothers I have been blessed to know. Every single one of them a radiating light of the goodness of God, just as I imagine Saint Timothy’s grandma, Lois, was based on Saint Paul’s description.

I often say that Saint Anne is my favorite Saint because the perfection of her daughter, the Blessed Mother, can seem unrelatable and intimidating, Anne is more approachable, like a dear friend who invites you into her home for a warm meal where she tells you beautiful stories about her daughter and goes on about how much they all just adore her Grandson. And in those stories you learn how much you are loved—by her and by God.

Isn’t that just like a grandmother?

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