Being one of seven children, I often felt like just a part of the crowd. Grandpa Stout, however, always made me feel special and loved. I am not sure why he gave me so much attention. Perhaps it was because he had only two boys and thought of me as the daughter he never had. Whatever the reason, I surely was happy to get the extra attention he gave me.
When I was around 4, he would hold me on his lap in the evenings and tell me Bible stories. He would take walks and bring me pink and blue wild morning glories, which I would proudly put in a glass of water.
On Sundays, he would take my sisters and me to church in a buggy pulled by a mule with a blanket over our knees. Going to church with him was such a treat for all of us. While there, he would lead the singing. I remember feeling very proud of him as he led us all in familiar hymns.
He passed away when he was 84. I have missed him very much, but I cherish the memories I have of him and his love.