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Robert Edward Ludlow Sr. remembered a sermon he had heard when he was a young man – not a particularly good one in his opinion, but there was a memorable portion.
“When God sends the angels into your life, don't expect them to look like what you expect. First of all, they are angels if they are angels, and second of all, if they are people, God excels at picking people we wouldn't – but if we could pick them, we wouldn't need them, now would we?”
That was the first impression Major Dubois and his father Monsieur Dubois gave Capt. Ludlow – they were just covered in light and goodwill and joy, the son the military version of his father. These were going to be excellent business partners.
But then the pain hit … Monsieur Dubois had his son, and Sgt. Trent had his son, but … how were these Black fathers ahead of him – a born blue-blood with every advantage? How was his son not with him, on this important day?
The grief and then the rage nearly swallowed Capt. Ludlow – at God, at the whole world, and at the Trents and Ludlows and their entire race. He had grown a great deal spiritually and he knew he was being irrational and was dead wrong – but he was still human, and he couldn't help it. He was just not healed …
… until he was.
Andrew, the 10-year-old son of Captain Ludlow's late daughter Anne, and soon to be his eldest son by adoption, slipped up beside him. He had hurriedly changed into his matching Sunday best, not knowing exactly how he knew but knowing he needed to be at his grandfather's side, and he slipped his hand into his grandfather's trembling hand and brought him out of his dark thoughts.
“Andrew?”
“They all have their sons, and you have yours too. It was time to man up. It's like I tell Eleanor, who is always saying she can't wait to be my brother in addition to my cousin; I already count it that way, so don't even worry about it. I never knew my biological father, and I don't need to. You're my grandpa and my dad. You always have been. Let's do this.”
Capt. Ludlow's heart nearly burst, but for the right reason … gratitude and love toward God and toward Andrew washed away all the evil that had nearly carried him away.
“Into the house, son,” he said, “because my heir must wear my extra set of cuff links, since he has manned up.”
“All right!”
Five minutes later, the two Ludlows appeared, and Sgt. Trent and his family knew that the Lord had answered their urgent prayers in the perfect way.
The Dubois father and son, not knowing exactly what had occurred but sensitive to the fact that whatever it was must have been enormous, knew just what to say.
“You were right,” Monsieur Dubois said to Sgt. Trent. “Capt. Ludlow, you are my type of man indeed – start the heirs to everything young, and let them be part of what we are building! You are my type of man!”
Capt. Ludlow could not speak for a moment, but wrapped his arm around Andrew, who wrapped his arms around his grandfather's waist and shared a big squeeze with him until Capt. Ludlow could speak.
“Indeed, this is my son and principal heir, Andrew Ludlow – the courts and Covid are dancing with the adoption papers before that can be official, and so on the books he is my grandson, but this is my son – this is my son!”
“Pleased to meet you gentlemen,” Andrew said, and everyone could feel the type of man he would become in eleven years, every inch the Ludlow principal heir and his grandfather's eventual successor in the day-to-day business of Ludlow Bubbly Inc.
“My youngest son is 28,” Monsieur Dubois said, “and he like the rest all started with me at your age, young Monsieur Ludlow. He is now running a whole business that he created from what I was doing, so you are starting right on time! It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Dubois. Le plaisir est pour moi.”
“He speaks French!” Monsieur Dubois cried. “Merveilleux! – the Ludlow principal heir is ready for everything!”
“I had to learn all the major European languages by age 15,” Capt. Ludlow said, “so, I am making sure that all of them learn at least French and Spanish, while we have all this time on our hands.”
“Capt. Ludlow, it is as I said – you are entirely my type of man!”
Sgt. Trent just silently praised God … talk about a positive development!