Seeing the world through a different set of eyes can be one of the most beautiful connective tissues that we can experience. For this teenage girl at tissue is in the hands of her grandmother. She’s a simple woman who opened her granddaughter’s eyes to be able to see the things we take for granted and make them flow like a true work of art. As she reflects on the time she spent with her grandmother reading, growing apples and appreciating the rain we see love manifested in a completely new way. A beautiful tale of how generations may make us different but love is love no matter the age difference and the love that is cultivated between these two people is a heartwarming testament to how special it can be to spend time with someone just enjoying their presence. A coming-of-age story that shows us how a girl and her grandmother grew from six years old through her high school years and the love never wavered. It also reminds us the things the importance of holding on to the things we are taught, you just never know when you’ll look into the sky and see the coming of rain and smile because like in this story it takes you back to baked apples and reminds you that soon you will see one of the greatest gifts that no one ever gets to touch… the rainbow always left behind from its friend Rain.
*This story may be performed by any gender, publisher permission is given.
Grandmas Apples, Rain, Rainbows
I spent most of my summers as a kid with my grandmother. Originally the whole family would go, but as my brother, who was 10 years older than me got older, his interest in spending the summer at his grandmother’s house that was in a very small rural area in Indiana went out the door faster than he did. So, when he turned 16, he decided to get a job during the summer and I was six and I had my bags packed and I’m standing at the door waiting for my parents to drop me off at grandma’s house. I should note that me having my bags packed means that I put every Crayon, colored pencil, and coloring book that I had in my school backpack and that’s it. No clothes, toothbrush, nothing because at grandma’s house it was all about what we wanted to do and with her it was all about making sure I saw all of the colors, not only saw them but appreciated the beauty that was nicely left here for us. It’s funny, thinking back on it. I believe my grandmother was the person that truly introduced me to colors. It’s not that I didn’t see them before, but I never connected them to all of the stories that they could hold. I never looked at the green of the grass and realized that it held a great space in life and creation. It could’ve been anything, any color but green once she pointed it out to me, became associated with the idea of growing, maturing and turning into something that people get to see every day no matter where in the world you live. My grandmother wasn’t a poet, but the more time I spent with her I felt like she should’ve been.