Heart of the Home

| September 2008

Time alone with grandma a special memory

When I was growing up, I only had one living grandparent. Most of the time, I felt like I didn’t really know my grandma because I had to share her with 20 other grandchildren, five of whom lived next door to her. We lived about 30 minutes away, so we only got to see Grandma about twice a month.

The summer I was 10 years old, my grandma insisted that I come spend a whole week with her. It would be just the two of us, and I was thrilled, to say the least.

The first afternoon I was there, Grandma went to a drawer and pulled out several new pillowcases and a small tablecloth. She let me pick which one I wanted. I quickly picked the tablecloth, which had a girl in a hoop skirt on each corner.

Then Grandma got out a basket of embroidery floss and needles. She patiently taught me how to embroider. The first few hours were trying for her, but she never once raised her voice to me.

For a couple of hours each afternoon, we’d work diligently on my tablecloth. By the end of the week, I had a good start on the tablecloth, and I had learned a new skill.

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