My grandfather funded his house from enemy Jap supplies and American cash. Stationed on a pacific island during WWII, he discovered a Japanese supply of bakelite.

It had Japanese writing on it, and he and a few mates shaped them into rings and sold them to gullible American troops. Classic Australian ingenuity.

Because of his Christianity, he’d be woken in the night to fix the radio, even when it wasn’t his turn – because everyone knew he wouldn’t swear at them.

And come ration time, he was everyone’s best friend because he’d give away his cigarette rations.

When he returned home, his young son didn’t know him, he’d wake with nightmares, and he was sidelined from the family business.

I can’t remember a single Anzac day march he took part in, or a single conversation I had with him about the war. These things aren’t why I admire him.

Can I tell you what I admire about him? Grandpa was a man who loved, even when it cost.

He treated everyone with kindness, endured Parkinson’s with a patient heart, and used his words to build up and not destroy.

He knew how to be human in God’s world. Lest we forget.

St Paul’s Anglican Church meets on Sundays at 9am with kids church. All welcome.