My Grandpa [is] sitting in his big red chair in front of the T.V. We listen quietly as he tells stories of the olden days, which I can only picture in my head in black and white. His eyes close behind his glasses on his wrinkled face. His laugh bellows across the room. "What if I don't hear him laugh again," I think to myself...
His laugh reminds me how sugar cookies are always ready when I get to his house. And they're always amazing. How the candy orange slices are always in a jar on the counter. I walk in and ask, "Where are the orange slices?" as if I didn't already know.
The entire piece was so touching, but those passages really just tugged at my heartstrings. I hope he doesn't mind that I quoted his writing here.
Wow. That 6th grader writes really well!
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