Sunday, November 27, 2011

My Storyteller.

Grandma RueLeen is a storyteller.
The very best storyteller actually, and I am not just biase because I am her granddaughter, it is true.

My sister and I used to have sleep overs at Grandma's house all the time when we were young. I remember the three of us squishing into her double bed after saying our evening prayers. The smell of the bed sheets and the thin pillows that we triple-folded just so our heads could be raised from the mattress a few inches are still so real to me.
Grandma usually slept in middle with each hand filled with one of our own. She had promised to tell us the story of Little Black Sambo if we settled down and the enticement worked, as it always did.
Her eyes would be closed as she began the story in her calm, gentle tones. And my mind would begin to be filled with images of tigers chasing each other until they turn to butter and then eating piles and piles of pancakes. The story was always the same- flawless and perfect. But that is how Grandma's stories always are.

I was with my lovely Grandma all this weekend and I fished for stories every moment that I got. She is a storyteller. I want to tell flawless stories like her one day.

She is beautiful.

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