Finding Sunrise
by Stephanie Mathews
Greg hoped he was getting close to finding the treasure. The dark night surrounded him, and though he’d hiked this trail before, the unfamiliarity of the night made everything seem more daunting. He needed to reach the old, gnarled scrub oak struck by lightning before sunrise.
Earlier this week, in the hospital room, his granddad had handed him a folded piece of paper. Weak and frail, Granddad’s voice was barely a whisper. “I need you to go on one last treasure hunt,” he had said.
Greg had hesitated, torn by the sight of Granddad’s declining health. They had always gone on treasure hunts together, and the thought of doing this alone felt unnatural. But Granddad had insisted, and Greg couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Besides, Greg was graduating high school next month; he needed to get used to doing things on his own.
Granddad’s shaky hand had passed the note to Greg. Unfolding it, Greg read aloud:
“We’ve hiked this trail before so you know the way,
Find the sunrise and with it the hope of a new day.
Treasure is thought of as gold,
But this treasure is old.
Find the spot under a tree,
Look down and you will see.”
Greg looked up, seeking confirmation. “The trail with the old scrub oak that was struck by lightning? That’s the one?”
Granddad nodded. “Just make sure you’re there at the right time.”
Greg studied the paper again. “Sunrise?”
Granddad’s gaze held a glimmer of something deeper. “Have you done any reading yet?”
Greg shook his head. Granddad had often suggested he read the Good Book, believing it held the secrets to life. Greg had always promised he would but never seemed to find the time.
With the urgency of sunrise and the weight of Granddad’s last words pressing on him, Greg turned his attention back to the dark trail ahead. He ventured further up the trail, driven by the promise of discovery and the hope of honoring Granddad’s final request.
As Greg hiked, memories of Granddad filled his mind — of their countless hikes, treasure hunts, and the simple things they had done together. After Granddad retired, he had moved in with Greg and his parents. The decision had been driven by necessity: money was tight, and the arrangement was meant to ease Granddad’s transition into retirement, while allowing Greg’s parents to work longer hours to support the family. The arrangement had provided stability during a challenging time, but it also meant that Greg’s daily life had been intertwined with Granddad’s presence, though he missed his parents and felt bad they worked so much.
Once, Greg had asked Granddad what drew him to treasure hunting. Greg had always sensed that it wasn’t just the promise of riches — after all, Granddad had never found more than a few old coins here and there. There was something more that kept Granddad searching.
Greg and Granddad had often speculated about what they would do if they ever struck it rich. Granddad would enthusiastically talk about dining at fancy restaurants and traveling to exotic places. “I’d love to take you and your parents to see all of God’s good earth!” he’d say with a twinkle in his eye. Greg, on the other hand, only thought of paying off the house so his parents could enjoy more free time.
A gust of wind snapped Greg back to reality. He shook his head, pushing aside his reminiscing.
Finally, he reached the old oak. Setting down his pack, he took a long sip of water, his eyes catching the first pink hues of sunrise on the horizon. Uncertain as to exactly what he was looking for, Greg recalled the poem’s mention of both sunrise and gold. He decided to watch the sunrise and keep his eyes peeled for any glimmer that might suggest treasure. The mention of something old was something Greg wasn’t sure about, but he hoped as the sun rose it would become obvious.
The sunrise was breathtaking, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape. Greg turned towards the old oak tree, remembering that the poem had mentioned it. The rising sun illuminated the tree, but nothing immediately stood out.
Greg crouched down and got on his hands and knees, carefully inspecting the ground beneath and around the tree. His heart raced with anticipation as he searched. He shifted the dirt and caught a glimmer. A reflection of brass caught his eye, shining with a gold-like brilliance in the morning light.
Greg’s breath caught in his throat as he reached for it, uncovering Granddad’s old canvas bag, and its brass buckle catching the sunlight in a warm glow.
Emotion surged through him — relief, joy, and a touch of nostalgia. This was more than just a find; it was a connection to Granddad’s mention of old. Greg grew excited, ready to hold bundles of cash in his hands as he opened the bag.
Greg eagerly opened the bag, but inside he found only a letter and Granddad’s well-worn Bible. The initial excitement faded as disappointment washed over him. He had been hoping for something more tangible, an actual treasure.
The letter was sealed in a large envelope and the Bible’s cover was scuffed from years of use.
As Greg stared at the items, his disappointment quickly gave way to a sense of shame. How could he feel let down by something that Granddad had put together for him, knowing it was the last thing he could do for Greg. The letter and the Bible were priceless mementos, representing Granddad’s thoughts and faith. Greg felt a pang of guilt for wishing for something more material, realizing that the true treasure was the connection to Granddad’s memory and legacy.
Greg set the Bible aside and opened the letter.
Dear Greg,
If you’re reading this, you’ve just watched a beautiful sunrise next to the old oak and the mountain we have enjoyed so much together, and I am no longer on God’s good earth. As much as I loved being out in creation, I’m in a much better and glorious place!
Please take serious this treasure you are receiving. The Good Book is the treasure (I can see your eye roll now and it does make me grin as I write this). I’m guessing you still haven’t read it for yourself and that’s ok, but I do urge you to read it before heading back home today. You’ll be graduating high school soon and taking on the responsibility of your own life from here on out.
I want you to know I enjoyed all the hours I was blessed to spend with you, all the hours God gave me in this life. As a young man I married a wonderful woman who gave me a beautiful daughter, my only child. Your mother was my treasure, then she grew and married a fine young man, and you came along and I was blessed with more than my human heart deserved. I became a Granddad, and you were the most precious treasure I have! I wish your Grandma would’ve got to know you, but I plan to tell her all about you when I go on. I look forward to seeing my Lord and my wife in His home.
As you begin a new phase of your life, please remember what true treasure is and where it can be found. Please take care of yourself and though I am gone from earth I am still alive and hope to reunite with you one day again.
All my love,
Granddad
P.S. I found the sunrise that lasts forever and pray you do as well
P.S.S. Open the Bible as soon as you read this letter.
The tears that had been threatening to come since Granddad passed finally came. The tears eventually slowed and stopped. Greg snuffled and picked up the Bible. He didn’t know what page he was supposed to open so he opened it to the first page.
A post-it note was stuck on it. Turn to Isaiah 45: 3–8. Make sure to read it too.
Greg found the page. Another letter was there. It was Granddad’s will, along with a short letter. He had left Greg everything. Greg learned that Granddad had indeed found a treasure worth something. He had found a satchel of gold coins on this trail, this exact spot when he was a young man and newly married. He had put the gold in the bank and left it to his daughter and when she married and had a son, she left it to him.
Greg was stunned. He looked down at the Bible and finally read as Granddad had suggested to him many times. It took him a few seconds to find the passage. He found Granddad had highlighted it, and the margin was filled with notes:
“I will give you hidden treasures,
riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the Lord,
the God of Israel, who summons you by name.
For the sake of Jacob my servant,
of Israel my chosen,
I summon you by name
and bestow on you a title of honor,
though you do not acknowledge me.
I am the Lord, and there is no other;
apart from me there is no God.
I will strengthen you,
though you have not acknowledged me,
so that from the rising of the sun
to the place of its setting
people may know there is none besides me.
I am the Lord, and there is no other.
I form the light and create darkness,
I bring prosperity and create disaster;
I, the Lord, do all these things.
You heavens above rain down my righteousness;
let the clouds shower it down.
Let the earth open wide,
let salvation spring up,
let righteousness flourish with it;
I, the Lord, have created it.”
Greg still stunned, yet filled with questions, wasn’t quite sure what to do next, but he knew he needed to head home, hug his parents, buy them dinner and talk about Granddad, treasures, the Good Book, sunrises, and the future.
About the Author
Stephanie Mathews is a librarian and when not at the library she writes, reads, walks the dog, dabbles in gardening, and hangs out with her husband and daughter. She’s published two poetry collections, articles in Creation Illustrated, devotional in Unlocked, and of course a couple stories in the wonderful Pure in Heart magazine.
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