With the dew of 2009 still fresh on the leaves, the sun peeking bashfully over the eastern sky, we must look back at the glory of 2008. We don’t have to go back far.

It was October 11 when we wrote our first letter to my granddaughter, little miss Audrey Lyn, just nine days before she was born. Here are some of the favorite words I’ve ever written …

“I’ve been thinking now these months about what to say to you on our first talk. Does the English language have enough angelic words to describe someone as beautiful and adorable and precious as you? Ah, I doubt that it does. The best way I can describe you is this:

Audry Lyn, you’re the arrayed colors of the early morning sky.

You’re a rose sparkling with fresh, cool dew.

You’re the yellow of a sunflower and the blue of the sky.

You’re a beautiful song with a soft melody.

You’re the grace of an eagle, the beauty of a rainbow, and the fresh smell of an afternoon rain.

When I think of you, your beauty and grace and the sweet sound of your name take my breath away. How could the Lord smile down on me so, show such love, to send an angel?

You see how words fall so short, little one? But even these words show that you already have your Popman wrapped around that small, delicate finger. Yes, indeed!

You’ll whimper and I’ll come running.

You’ll cry and I’ll brush away the tear.

You’ll be afraid and I’ll hold your hand.

From now until forever. …”

The next week we all were growing a little impatient because you didn’t want to let go of that rope. So we wrote again, from life’s little waiting room, and reminded sweet Audrey of all the great women in her life: from two of La Grange, Georgia’s most elegant citizens - her great-grandmother Louise and great-great grandmother Miller - to her own mama and Bamaw.

A week later, we’d write the young lady again, this time describing to her the good news. Her Bamaw called me the evening of October 20 and said,

“She’s here!”

And then this …

“Something happened to my heart just then. I don’t know if I have the words to put it in. It fluttered, and I tried to speak but the words would barely come. You were only a few minutes old, Audrey Lyn, and you had already taken my breath away! They say that a man should measure life not by the number of breaths he takes but by the moments that take his breath away. If that’s the case - and I lean toward believing it is - I’ve had quite a life. I just lived a hundred years in a moment.

I have managed to catch my breath a time or two over the last two days. You’ve been getting adjusted to the world, and I’ve been getting adjusted to breathing again. But it’s hard, especially since I’ve now held you in my hands and watched you open your eyes and smile.

All I can do is smile in return, gaze into those soft eyes, and thank the good Lord for being so very kind to such a one as I.

And I thank you, too, sweet angel, for taking my breath away the way you do.”

Ah, the showers of blessings were abundant in 2008! Thank you all so much for sharing in each sweet, special raindrop.

Now I pray the Lord will send those showers to you all in abundance in 2009.

Readers may contact Steven Bowen at Steven.bowen@redoakisd.org