Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: GRACE (02/12/26)
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TITLE: A Piece of Grace | Previous Challenge Entry
By Joanna Dietz
02/19/26 -
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It was the year 1960-something. Once again it was Sunday, and my grandfather, grandmother, their two oldest children, and the baby of the family, my mother, Jill, had all piled into their car. They were headed over to Bible Truth Assembly, a two-story church with pastel green siding, situated just on the northwest side of small-town Wausau.
Church had always been a part of young Jill’s life: the vibrant singing from little black hymnbooks; the standing for long, fervent prayers; the long messages from the wooden pulpit; the reverent sharing of the bread and wine. No Sunday or mid-week service was ever really quite the same, except for one thing they all had in common: sitting still.
My mom, Jill, was not a particularly naughty child. In fact, all three of the Richetto children were quite well-behaved. But this particular Sunday would prove to be an exception to the rule.
“Jill, honey, settle down,” I can almost hear my grandmother say, placing a hand on Mom’s restless leg, as if somehow Grandma could transfer a calming effect through the palm of her hand.
A minute passed. More fidgeting.
“Jill. Stop.” Came the second, more insistent whisper.
Another minute passed. Wiggling continued.
“Jill!” Came the firm and final warning.
Two minutes passed. Squirming persisted.
Without a word, my grandmother shouldered her purse, and scooping up her small daughter, silently arose and exited the sanctuary.
“Oh, boy! I’m gonna get it now!” I supposed my mother fretted, already wincing at the thought of what she deserved.
Outside the sanctuary, my grandmother set my mother down on a bench near a window.
“Here it comes!” My mother thought, stiffening.
But instead of preparing to render justice, my grandmother was rummaging around in her purse.
To Mom’s disbelief, Grandma pulled out a piece of gum and, unwrapping it, handed it to Mom.
“Here, Jill.”
My mother quietly accepted the piece of gum and meekly placed it in her mouth.
Then, with a purse on one shoulder and a daughter on the other, Grandma headed back into the sanctuary.
I am sure that my mom cannot remember the flavor of that piece of gum and neither the topic of the sermon preached that day nor any of the songs sung. But one thing she does remember: grace is getting what you don’t deserve.
“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8 (NASB)
Based on a true story.
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