grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
Of Gingerbread and a Key
On my sixteenth birthday, my grandma gave me a little black notebook to “keep track of daily life and to remind me of what I had to be thankful for.” A tiny thing, small enough to fit in my apron pocket and covered all around in black leather. It had a real silk string, too. How she came by it, I couldn’t then guess. Everyday I’d write a little something about what Ma was making for supper or how the crops were growing. Until the day my grandma died, just two short months from when she gave me the notebook.
By Just Your Ordinary Bookworm5 years ago in Families
20 little envelopes, our little secret.
Gran was an amazing lady, she had such a zest for life, spring in her step and a cute little sparkle in her eye. She wasn’t French but my goodness, how she wished that she was, and how she never let us forget what seemed to be her first and longest love! Whenever she spoke of all things French, be it food, wine, places she had visited - from a tiny little town on the northern tip of the Normandy coast to the glitzy glamorous hubs of the Parisienne landscape, and then to the southern shores of her beloved French Riviera, her eyes would twinkle that little bit more. Ahh, but when she spoke of the beloved elusive French man that she loved for decades, her voice may have dropped, and her lips straightened but the twinkle in her eyes was ever present. Gran just adored France and all things French. Apparently, a baguette is not a baguette unless it is banqueted on in France!!
By Francesca Lend5 years ago in Families
A Billion Breaths
"Take this” said a strange man dressed in a long black coat, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere on Nichole’s walk home from school. For some reason she stopped cold in her tracks and gave him her undivided attention. “Hide it somewhere safe”, he said quickly. “When the time is right someone will approach you, and you will need it. DO NOT OPEN IT. DO NOT LOSE IT. DO NOT TELL ANYONE, not even your family Nichole. You’re the one. You’re the one who will save us all. You’re the only one who can know the truth and be trusted with it. Now run. They’re coming." Eleven year old Nichole ran like her life depended on it. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know where to hide the book or who that man was, but she could see it in his face, he was serious, scared, and she trusted him.
By Tasia Saumier5 years ago in Families
Gold in the Attic
My grandma told me about the gold in the attic when I was twelve years old. I had known, since I was little, that all sorts of strange things are hidden in the curious cabinets around her house. The spices and crackers and pumpkin seeds that would tumble over my head as soon as I’d reach for the shelves. The nearly folded and categorised linens and blankets and fabric scraps; tucked away with grandpa’s impressive stamps collection; the dusty glass display stands of shells and fans and Buddha heads—magazines, fictions, a magnificent bird embroidering on a miniature screen…a tuneless guitar I grew up thinking to be a cello.
By Clarissa Dsong5 years ago in Families
Undesired
There she lay for 3 days unnamed, alone, destined to die. Unwanted, unwished for, unplanned. It was a dark and cold December, the doctors and nurses did not have hope for a happy ending, she was too small, born too early, only faith could carry this baby through. One loving grandma; who prayed, stayed, cared and loved as only a hero can until a miracle happened, the baby girl grew, she breathed, she thrived.
By Tina Richardson5 years ago in Families
Beyond the Sunset:
I couldn't believe it. I had no memory of writing those words. Yet I must have. There, in the little black book that emerged during a clean-up of my late grandmother's house, were the words written in my own unmistakable handwriting. The words were frightening, urgent, spare and pleading - and I was riveted by them.
By Geof Wheelwright5 years ago in Families
