From Chicken Soup for the Child's Soul

Granny’s Hands

If we have the opportunity to be generous with our hearts, ourselves, we have no idea of the depth and breadth of love’s reach.

Margaret Cho

My grandma was a generous person—not just to my family and me, but to all kinds of people, even people she didn’t know. She did nice things without ever expecting or wanting anything back. Over many years, a lot of help passed through her hands and on to others.

My grandma was especially good at baking. She made the very best chocolate-chip cookies, which were my favorite. But everyone in the family always looked forward to her special pound cake when we would get together.

One of the best things about my grandma was that you could stop by and see her anytime, and she would always welcome you. It didn’t matter what she was doing; she would make time to visit with you.

When my friends would come to church with me, she would tell them to call her “Grandma,” even though they were from totally different families. Then she’d give them a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Everyone in our family always depended on Grandma to give us the news about the latest birth or who got married. Now she’s not here to tell us what’s going on, or to bake those favorite things she was so good at making, because my grandma passed away last summer.

She got cancer, and the doctors said they would be surprised if she lived another year. She didn’t. She died about a month later. At least everyone got to see her one last time before she went to heaven.

During her funeral, my cousin started to read a poem, but he couldn’t finish because it was too hard on him. About two weeks later, I found the poem. It described our grandma exactly.

Granny’s Hands

Granny’s hands used to touch me with such tenderness and care.

Granny’s hands would scold me and sit me down in a chair.

Granny’s hands would applaud me when I did something good.

Granny’s hands would hold me every chance they could.

Granny’s hands would aid me whenever I fell down.

Granny’s hands, yes I miss them, they were the best hands around.

Granny’s hands would spank me and say, “Now, baby, you act right.”

Granny’s hands would stroke me and tuck me in at night.

Granny’s hands would pray for me, they would pray for all of us.

Granny’s hands would rise in the air as in God she put her trust.

Granny’s hands were special; they were the very best.

Granny’s hands got tired, and now they are at rest.

Felicia Moore

I thought a lot about the last line of that poem. It taught me that it can be hard to lose people you love, but it can sometimes be for the better, too. When Grandma got sick, I felt so bad for her. I knew she couldn’t do the things she loved anymore, and she was in pain. At least I know that she doesn’t hurt anymore. I also realized that I never thought about how things would change once Grandma was gone. Losing someone you love can definitely help you appreciate the people who are special to you while you still have them in your life.

Victoria Williams, 12

HEATHCLIFF By George Gately

“Nobody pets him like Gran’ma.”

Reprinted by permission of George Gately and Creators Syndicate, Inc. ©2006 Creators Syndicate, Inc.

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