Whispers In The Quiet

In My Mind’s Eye: A Moment to Remember…

Some memories live quietly behind the scenes, tucked deep in the soul, waiting for the right key to unlock their warmth.
It opens the door to a time when life was both simple and tender, and love was quietly being sown into the heart of a little girl.

Through the lens of a child learning to navigate life, I remember the way grace showed up.
In some of the most grand gestures, in those quiet, steady acts of care, I found a gift of love beyond blood ties—fraternal bonds that built a treasure trove of memories in my little girl heart.

My stepfather’s unconditional love was one of those sacred gifts.
He didn’t just raise me; he made space for me to feel safe, seen, and celebrated.
In every gentle act—from building a playhouse to letting me stay up just a little longer in his lap—he was telling me, without words: You are worthy of my love.

These small, sweet memories became the architecture of my inner world.
They taught me what joy felt like, and even now, they continue to sustain me.
These are not just stories—they are sacred echoes of a love that shaped a life, into the me I become.

When I was five, my stepfather built me a playhouse in the backyard—a real one, not made of plastic or plywood scraps, but crafted with care, from floorboard to window frame.
He painted it pink with white trim and fashioned a door in place.
His gift touched my childlike mind in such a way as my heart will never forget his love.
What an honor to say I was gifted my first house at age five.
My mother sewed Strawberry Shortcake curtains.
He gave me a skeleton key and carved a tiny keyhole in the door, just for pretend.

That same birthday, I had chicken pox.
So when my father, a world-class baker, made my Wonder Woman cake—she had them too.
Three red dots on her cheek, just like mine.

Some of my favorite childhood memories include sneaking down the hallway with my brother, trying to hide on each side of his recliner so we could peek around and watch TV with him.
We thought we were being sneaky.
But he always knew.
He’d tap us on the head with a smile, and sometimes, he let us climb into his lap and stay for a while.

My stepfather, Danny, was deaf but never distant.
He served in Pearl Harbor as one of the first impaired MPs in active duty wartime service.
He graduated as valedictorian from UC Berkeley, and later became a teacher at a school for the blind and deaf.

But in the end, despite all his education and accomplishments, he chose joy.
He became a baker—because he wanted to make people happy.

He was, in 1979, listed as one of the primary baking artists in the World’s Guinness Book of Records, having created the largest wedding cake to date.
It went, I believe, 42 stories tall—2 stories outside the skyscraper Seattle Sears Tower in Washington.

(I will look for the newspaper clippings to post at another time.)

I remember the way his eyes would twinkle like Santa Claus when he smiled.
He didn’t need words to make you feel safe or seen.
You just knew.
And with his goodness, I found a childhood worth remembering.

The last time I saw my stepfather on his porch, I asked him:
Daddy, do you know Jesus?

He smiled, and gave me such a look that his heart immediately knew how much I loved him.
His face seemed to light up and looked flushed in glory, and his loving eyes full of light twinkled as he smiled.
“Yes,” he signed back.
And we embraced for the last time.

My father—though he wasn’t a blood relation—was as true a father as any little girl could ask for.

And though I had grown up unsure how to ask the man who became my world if he knew the God of creation and surrendered to the Savior—our Jesus—I am so glad that, in the last time I saw him, I was brave enough to ask.

The light on his face told me everything.
And I know one day we will meet again in Heavenly places.

And what a day that will be—
A family bound by a love that was gifted so sweet.

In this remembrance, I can say that his love gave me the blueprints to recognize and accept the love of my Heavenly Father—through his tender and wonderful care of a daughter only his by proxy.

Scriptures

“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.”
 — Psalm 103:13

“The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in His love He will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”
— Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)

From my quiet heart to yours, may you hear His whisper…
Spring Lynn Booth

http://whispers-in-the-quiet.org
HopeMinistries2010@yahoo.com

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