суббота, 16 марта 2013 г.

That's What Grandmothers Are For

By Miriam Hill

Just about the time a woman thinks her work is done, she becomes a grandmother.
~Edward H. Dreschnack

"Amy left several emotional calls for you on our answering machine while you were gone," announced my husband, Jim, as I walked in the door, exhausted after four hours of driving across the state. For the last three days I had accompanied my twelve-year-old granddaughter, Rachel, during her competition at the Florida State Science Fair where she won second place in Junior Chemistry. "Amy was extremely upset and crying when she left her messages," continued Jim. "She needed to talk to her Gram."
My mind raced. What could be wrong with this bubbly fourth grader who last week flew from her home in Maryland and spent her spring break with us in Florida? Just four days ago I had taken her to the airport for her return flight, and smiled when the busy airline employee handling the Unaccompanied Minor paperwork stared at my cute, blond granddaughter and remarked, "You are the most adorable little girl, in your denim hat with the big sunflower in front."

"That makes six compliments about my hat today, Gram," beamed Amy as we headed toward security. "Remember all the people who told me they liked it when we went shopping this morning?"

My thoughts returned to Jim's descriptions of Amy's frantic calls. I couldn't bear to listen to them.

"Why was she so upset?" I asked.

"She lost her sunflower hat on the plane and was so miserable she couldn't sleep. She had placed it on top of her bag of books, under the seat in front of her, and then realized it was missing while she was at the baggage carousel. She and her dad rushed back to the plane and had the attendants check around her seat but the hat was gone."

My heart sank.

"I have to leave," I told Jim as I grabbed my keys and headed toward the door.

"But you just got here after a long drive and you're exhausted. Where are you going?"

"On a mission."

I wondered where I could buy a big sunflower as I headed for the mall. I doubted the arts and crafts store would be open this late on Sunday evening, but it was. I raced down the aisles and right before closing I found their only big sunflower and bought it. I rushed home, rummaged through my collection of hats, and grabbed the denim one. I sewed the sunflower in front, smiled at the clone I'd created, and called Amy.

"I've replaced your hat, sweetie. Now, you can feel better and sleep tonight. I think this one's cuter than the other one."

"Oh, thank you Gram. I've been so sad since I lost my hat."

"Do you want me to send it or bring it to you?"

"Bring it with you when you visit this summer, so it won't get lost in the mail."

Unexpectedly, Amy's mother, Betsy, flew down for the weekend to celebrate my birthday and she was amazed when she saw the hat. "Let me take this back to Amy. She'll be thrilled!"

The next evening I checked my e-mails and discovered a video titled "The hat." I watched as Betsy sat on the floor, opened her suitcase, and handed the hat to speechless Amy.

"Did you find it?" asked five-year-old sister, Anna, thinking the replica was the lost hat.

Amy walked to a mirror, posed in the hat, then ran to the camera and gushed, "Gram, if you're watching this, I love you. And thank you, thank you, thank you for getting me another hat. I like it better than the other one!"

I was pleased I made my grandchild happy.

That's what grandmothers are for.
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