Counting Stars

By Kay Timpson

(Based on a true story)

These days should be remembered (Esth. 9:28).

“He doesn’t remember me,” Jeremy sobbed, burying his face in a pillow. “How could Grandpa forget me?”

Mom sat down beside him. “Remember the doctor told us that because of Grandpa’s illness his memories will come and go. Later, he may not remember much at all.”

Jeremy sniffed. “I just didn’t think he’d forget me.”

“He hasn’t forgotten you in his heart,” Mom said. “This life is a short time. Our family will be together for eternity, and then Grandpa will remember everything.”

Jeremy went to his room and tried to read a book, but he couldn’t concentrate. All he could think about was how to help Grandpa. Suddenly, a picture on his desk caught his eye—a picture of him and Grandpa on a fishing trip. “That was the most exciting thing we ever did together,” he thought. Then it hit him. “Pictures,” he murmured. “Of course!”

Grabbing the picture, he raced downstairs, skidded around the corner, and headed to Grandpa’s room. He knocked quietly just in case Grandpa was sleeping.

“Yes?” Grandpa called out.

“It’s me, Jeremy. May I come in?”

“Sure.”

With the photo in his hand, Jeremy stepped through the door. “Remember this, Grandpa?”

Grandpa adjusted his glasses. “You bet I do! That’s my favorite fishing spot. I’ve been going there since I was a boy.”

Jeremy fought back the tears. Grandpa remembered the fishing spot, but not him.

“You took me fishing there,” Jeremy said. “We fished all day. I got my nose sunburned and you fell in the stream trying to net my fish! Then we made a fire and cooked the fish for dinner. Remember, Grandpa?”

“Well, I can’t recall,” Grandpa admitted. “Let’s have another look. Hmm, is that my old truck? I bought that when my son was about your age. The boy in this picture looks a lot like my son.”

“The boy in the picture is me, Jeremy—your grandson. Your son is my dad, and we look a lot alike.”

“Oh, now I remember,” Grandpa said, looking hard at Jeremy. “We went there for your birthday, didn’t we? We had a great time, as I recall. Say,” Grandpa said slowly, “didn’t we lie on the ground at night and count stars?”

“Yes!” Jeremy squealed. “We counted as far as I could. You said that no matter how old I got, I’d never be able to number all the stars that Jesus scattered in the heavens. You said stars were to help boys like me learn how to count.”

“Maybe so. That was a great fishing trip. We should do it again sometime.” Grandpa’s head began nodding and Jeremy knew he needed a nap, so he patted him on the hand and quietly slipped through the door.

“Mom!” Jeremy yelled as he burst into the kitchen. “He remembered!”

“Who?” Mom questioned.

“Grandpa. He remembered me and the fishing trip we took. He actually remembered counting stars! I even forgot that. And now I know how to help him remember lots of things.”

Running back to his room, he pulled a shoebox from the closet and dumped the contents on his bed. All afternoon Jeremy worked. He cut. He pasted. He wrote. Finally he was finished. He took his project to Grandpa’s room.

“I made a book for us, Grandpa. I want us to remember all the great things our family has done together, so I got all my photos and I put them in this notebook. It’s like our own family picture book!”

“Family picture book?” Grandpa asked, opening to the first page. “Well, well!” he murmured. “This is my son, James, and his wife. James is my oldest son, you know.” Squinting his eyes and holding the book close, Grandpa murmured, “The writing under the picture says ‘James, Carolyn, and Jeremy.’”

“I know, Grandpa. They are my parents. See the baby James is holding? That’s me, Jeremy. This picture was taken the day I was born. And look at this one, Grandpa,” Jeremy said, turning the page. “That’s you holding me. I was eating the cake Mom made for my first birthday.”

“My, my,” Grandpa said. “It’s all over both of us!”

“See this one, Grandpa? That’s all of us at the lake one summer. We camped for a whole week.”

Page after page of pictures told the story of the family’s life together. Grandpa remembered some, and Jeremy described the others. When Jeremy got up to leave, Grandpa took his arm.

“Come back soon, Jeremy. I’d love to see that book again.”

Jeremy looked down at Grandpa and saw tears in his eyes. “I’ll be back later, Grandpa. I’ll show you some more. I love you and I’m so glad you’re my grandpa.” He bent down and gave Grandpa a hug.

“I love you too, Jeremy. You’re the best grandson in the whole family!” he said with the old twinkle in his eyes.

“Grandpa! I’m the only grandson in the whole family!”

“Yup. And you’re the only one I ever counted stars with!”

[Entries in Our Book of Life]

“Each of us makes daily entries in our book of life. Occasionally we take it from the shelf and examine the entries we are making. What kind of memories will flood our minds as we examine the pages of our personal entries?”
Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “Making Memories,” Ensign, Aug. 1993, 63.

Illustrated by Bradley Clark