Grandma and Me

Alyssa Starts Over

Good Neighbor Love



Grandma and Me

by Evelyn Horan

As raindrops slither down our kitchen window this December morning, I remember another rainy morning in December of last year. It was after breakfast that Grandma and I were going shopping for a Christmas present for Mom, but I knew Grandma wasn't feeling well because her asthma was bothering her.

"Grandma," I said finishing my toast, "we don't have to go shopping today if you don't feel up to it."

Grandma gave me a pretend indignant look and reached for her inhaler. She inhaled and said, "Now, Ruthie, if you don't want to go shopping with Grandma, just say so, and I'll go by myself."

I could tell she was teasing. Grandma knew I'd been waiting for this day, and she wasn't going to disappoint her only granddaughter, in spite of how bad she felt.

"Okay, Grandma," I said, quickly gulping down the rest of my milk. "I'll get my raincoat."

"And wipe your "milk-mustache mouth", young lady," Grandma reminded with a wink. "I'm not going to be seen walking down Main Street with a granddaughter who doesn't know her table manners."

Grandma and I had a wonderful time. We bought Mom a beautiful tablecloth to use on our Christmas Day dinner table. Then Grandma surprised me and bought me a nice, warm jacket for school. When I protested and told her it was too expensive, she just hugged me and said, "I want you to have it."

Next, she treated me to pie and ice cream at Miss Maggie's Bakery Shop. As Grandma finished her last bite of pie, she began to cough so hard she couldn't seem to stop. Her face turned scarlet.

"Grandma, are you all right?" I patted her anxiously on her back. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Ruthie," she said, gasping for breath and digging in her bag for her inhaler. After a few whiffs, she breathed more easily. "It's a little warm in here for me," she said with a weak smile, as she patted my hand. "Maybe we should go home, now."

"Sure, Grandma," I said picking up our packages." I'm all through shopping. How about you?"

"Yes dear, I've done all the shopping I'm going to do, and don't you dare ask me for anything else!" she said smiling.

I hadn't asked her for anything that day, but Grandma was teasing me again.

When we got home, Grandma went to bed, but not before she gave me a hug and said, "This was a fun day. Let's do it more often, okay?"

I smiled and nodded. Somehow, her request failed to take away my growing depression. Later that evening as I walked toward Grandma's room to say goodnight, I heard Mom and Grandma talking. I slowed my footsteps, not wanting to disturb them.

"You and I both know she loves you more than anything in the world," Mom said softly." She's going to be terribly hurt when the time comes."

They were talking about me.

"She's going to suspect something soon," Mom continued with a deep sigh." Your symptoms are beginning to show, Mother."

"I know," Grandma said sadly." I wish I could save Ruthie the hurt. Let's try and keep it from her a little while longer."

My mind went blank. I felt numb as I turned and walked slowly down the hall to my room. Lying in bed, I couldn't sleep. I'd been dreading to face it, but it was true. Grandma was seriously ill.

I didn't sleep well that night, and Grandma slept-in the next morning. When I finally came to the table, I guess I must have looked awful. I didn't say much, and all through breakfast, Mom kept giving me worried glances.

I tried to keep myself busy that Saturday morning. First, I watered all the plants on the front porch. Then, I straightened up my room and tackled my messy closet. After that, I finished reading Where the Red Fern Grows for a book report at school.

I didn't go to Grandma's room all day. Finally, in the afternoon, she asked for me. When I stood in her doorway, she called playfully, "Come here, Ruthie-Dear!" She patted the side of her bed. Her eyes had the same old twinkle of humor, but she looked tired.

"Are you mad at me, precious? You didn't come to see me all morning or last night." Grandma stuck out her lower lip and made a funny, pouting face. "Don't you love me anymore?"

"Oh, Grandma," I cried, throwing my arms around her neck." You know I love you."

"Of course you do, darling," Grandma said smiling, as I drew back. She held my hands. "Sweetheart, I've been wanting to tell you something—and I think it's time you knew."

Tears gathered in my eyes.

"You already know, don't you," Grandma said.

I nodded sadly.

Suddenly, Grandma's face took on a wonderful expression. "Come," she said, scooting up on her pillow. "Put my other pillow behind this one, so I can sit up and look out the window. Tonight is Christmas Eve. Remember, dear? Tonight the stars in heaven led the way to the Christ Child."

"I know, Grandma," I said, lifting her pillows higher. I remembered all through the years, Grandma always made Christmas Eve a special time of remembrance for the birth of the Christ Child, Our Lord, and we went to Midnight Mass together.

Grandma gazed out the window and sighed. "I'll be going to my heavenly home soon, Ruthie."

"Oh, Grandma," I cried, kneeling at her bed and throwing myself on her chest."Don't say that. I can't think of letting you go."

"Ruthie, Ruthie," Grandma chided, stroking my hair. "I'm going to be with our Heavenly Father and the Blessed Mother. And someday, I'll see you there, too."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn't speak. "Don't cry," Grandma said. "I'll be fine, and so will you."

Grandma went into a spasm of coughing and reached for her inhaler. As her spasms lessened, she took a deep breath and whispered, "When I get to heaven, Ruthie, I'll ask Our Lord and his special angels and His dear Mother, the blessed Virgin Mary, to watch over you." Grandma kissed my forehead." I love you, dear."

"I love you too, Grandma."

Grandma was with us through the Christmas holidays, but she grew weaker, and in late January, she smiled and closed her eyes and went to Heaven to be with our Heavenly Father.


It's been almost a year, and I think of Grandma every day, especially during the holy Christmas season. I miss her so much, but I feel comforted because I know I will see Grandma again, someday. And I have a wonderful feeling that Grandma is using her influence in heaven. In fact, I can almost see her winking at me now, as I finish my toast and glass of milk.

"Yes, Grandma, I'll wipe my 'milk-mustache mouth'. I don't want you to be embarrassed for me, when Mom and I go Christmas shopping on Main Street today.

Copyright by Evelyn Horan

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Alyssa Starts Over

by Evelyn Horan

I didn't have such a good day today. When I told Sister Margaret that I didn't do my homework, I thought she would be disappointed. And sure enough, her big, blue eyes just stared at me, and she said I would have to stay after school tomorrow and make it up unless I did it tonight.

Sometimes, I think Social Studies isn't interesting. It's not easy to learn about the nations of the world and their culture. Sometimes it's confusing, but I guess I really should try to understand other nations and their traditions. God made all people, and some are different from others. This chapter has many of review questions! And I have to answer them in full and complete sentences. Some students can do really nice papers, but I have to work on neatness. How many schools have I been in? There have been a few, because we've moved.

I still have problems with spelling. When my teacher finishes reading my papers, and returns them to me, they have several red marks on them that are spelling corrections. I wish I were smart like Mary. She's often called on to read in her nice, loud voice—and her homework answers are always correct.

Maybe I should write a letter to Ruth. I really miss her, now that I've moved to another school. I wonder if she's found a new friend since I moved away. I miss her so much.

Mom was sad about me, and the way I wasn't fitting into school. "Alyssa, please, dear, try and get off to a good start in your new school. Try and be a good girl and study hard. I love you. Please try to do your best, and when you say your prayers tonight, ask the Lord to help you. You might find something in your Catechism lesson today that will help you. I am going to visit Mrs. Wilson and her new baby this evening, but Grandma Esther will come in to give you a goodnight hug.

My social studies book must have three hundred pages in it, and all those check-ups, plus the end of the chapter activities. I know my new school is a good school, but the teachers do seem to give a lot of homework. I really hate to see Mom sad, and Sister Margaret meant it about making-up the work after school. Dear Jesus, I know I need to have a better attitude, and I know I should try to settle down and give my best effort. Please help me to do my homework and to be cooperative. Where are the verses in Catechism Class that I studied in school today?

Oh yes, here they are in my notebook. I like this one: "If you ask anything in my name, I will do it." (John 14:14). I like this one too: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians: 4-l3). Dear Mother of God please help me with my poor attitude. I know I have to try to do better in my new school.

Oh, I just remembered, during Physical Education class today, Mary asked me to have lunch with her tomorrow, so we can get better acquainted. Maybe she and I can become friends. I would really like that. Thank you dear Mother of God for helping me remember that invitation and for helping me get started on my homework. It's just seven o'clock. There are only five review questions, and they really don't look that hard. I think if I start right now, I can be finished with them by eight o'clock. I feel so much better about doing my homework. I know I'm doing the right thing now, and I know Our Lord will help me.

Copyright by Evelyn Horan

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Good Neighbor Love

by Evelyn Horan

"Mrs. Hanson is standing at her window watching us play catch," Tim said, tossing a ball to his sister.

"Mrs. Hanson watches us play a lot," Alyssa said returning the ball. "I think she's lonesome since her husband died and went to Heaven a few months ago." Alyssa threw the ball to Tim and sat on the front porch steps.

Tim darted a quick glance at the white house across the street. "Mrs. Hanson is still at the window watching us. She's very old,” he said, tossing his ball from hand to hand.

"I feel sorry for her. Alyssa said. "And tonight is Christmas Eve." She pushed a pebble along the sidewalk with the toe of her shoe. "I wonder what she'll do, who she'll be with?"

"Me, too," Tim said softly. "Mrs. Hanson won't even get any presents. I think it would be terrible to not even get one present."

“I think Christmas Eve is the best time of the year. It's the time when we say, Happy Birthday to Our Lord, Jesus." Alyssa said. She rose and paused at the front door. There was a soft glow in her eyes. "Tonight we'll sing Christmas carols and watch the Christmas story at Mass tonight. I love the manger scene with the baby Jesus."

"I wish Christmas was all year long," Tim said wistfully. He gave another glance at the little house across the street." Wonder how we could help Mrs. Hanson have a nice Christmas?"

"Let's go inside and talk to Mother about it," Alyssa said.

Mother was at the stove stirring a pot of vegetable soup. "Please wash your hands, and set the table, Alyssa," Mother said.

"Hmm! Smells good. I'm so hungry!" Tim said. "First I'll feed Molly Bee and her puppies. I can hear them yapping in the back yard."

Their mother turned and looked at the children. "Since we've already talked about three puppies being too many to care for, have you thought of anyone who'd like to have one?"

Alyssa and Tim exchanged glances. "Mrs. Hanson," they both chorused.

"Why, of course," Mother said, "a puppy to keep her company. I know she's very lonesome from the way she talked, when we were having tea yesterday."

"Mrs. Hanson would like Rusty," Tim said confidently. "He's a frisky, lovable pup. He'd keep her company and give her plenty of exercise, too!"

"Yes,” Alyssa agreed. "She wouldn't have time to feel lonely any more. I'll give Rusty a bath, so he'll be nice and clean. And I'll fix him up like a present. Then we can take him to Mrs. Hanson."

"Wonderful!" Mother said. "Take him just before dinner."

Alyssa and Tim stepped lightly on the white porch and knocked on the door. In a few moments it opened.

"Well, good evening, children," Mrs. Hanson said, in a surprised voice.

"Mother sent over some of our Christmas Eve dinner, Mrs. Hanson," Mary said, holding out a plate. "She hopes you enjoy it."

Mrs. Hanson held the warm plate smelling of delicious food. "Why thank you, Alyssa!" she exclaimed. "How thoughtful! Give your mother a big hug for me."

"I will," Alyssa said smiling.

Tim stepped forward holding a little, reddish-brown puppy with a wide, green ribbon tied around its neck. On its head was a tiny green beanie cap with a round, fuzzy pom-pom on top. The puppy's pink tongue licked at Tim’s hand. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hanson," Tim said, grinning happily. "I guess Mother told you, Molly had three puppies a few months ago. It’s too many puppies for us. We thought maybe, you might like to have this little fellow to keep you company. We call him, Rusty, because his coat is rust colored." Tim put the squirming puppy in the old lady's arms.

"Why, Tim, he's precious," Mrs. Hanson said softly. "How kind of you all. I'd love to have Rusty. And I know how to care for him," she reassured. "Don't worry about that. We had several puppies in the past.”

"Also, Mother said to tell you not to cook for yourself tomorrow," Tim continued. "We want you to come over and have Christmas Day dinner with us."

"We're having turkey and all the trimmings!" Alyssa added.

"Oh, my goodness!" Mrs. Hanson exclaimed. She gave the children a tearful hug. "Tell your mother I said thank you. I'd love to have Christmas dinner with you." She held the door open. "Please, come in, I baked oatmeal cookies. I want you to have some. "Mrs. Hanson led the way into her small living room. "Sit down," she said motioning to two rocking chairs. "I'll be right back.

Mrs. Hanson held Rusty in her arms. The squirming puppy stretched up tall and put wet kisses on her thin, faded cheeks. "Well, I love you, too, Rusty," Mrs. Hanson said, patting Rusty's soft, fuzzy coat. She put the puppy down on the carpet. "You come with me, and I'll give you a little bowl of water."

The old lady left the room murmuring, "Aren't you a cute little fellow. Yes, you are, indeed!"

"I think she likes, Rusty," Alyssa whispered with a satisfied smile.

"I know she does!" Tim agreed.

Soon, Mrs. Hanson returned with a napkin-covered plate of cookies." I have lots of raisins in them. I hope you will enjoy them,” she said.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hanson," Tim said. "I love oatmeal cookies!"

"And Mother also said to tell you, we're going to watch the Christmas story about the baby Jesus at Mass tonight," Alyssa said. "We'd like for you to go with us."

Mrs. Hanson's tears began to fall again. She reached for a tissue in her blouse pocket and wiped her eyes. The children looked away for a moment.

"Thank you, thank you, for inviting me," Mrs. Hanson whispered, dabbing at her eyes. "You are all such good neighbors! Of course, I'd love to go along with you and celebrate our Lord's birthday."

As Tim and Alyssa crossed the yard, they both turned and waved. "Thanks for the cookies!" Tim called.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hanson," Alyssa called."We'll see you in a little while."

Mrs. Hanson gave a cherry wave, holding Rusty in her arms. "Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, children!" she said.

"Look, Rusty is kissing her face," Tim said.

"I guess Mrs. Hanson won't be too lonely anymore," Alyssa said, as they crossed the street. "I feel so happy this Christmas Eve."

"It feels very nice to be a good neighbor,” Tim said.

"We'll go over and visit Mrs. Hanson once in a while," Alyssa said softly.

Tim nodded. "We'll have a good reason now that Rusty is her puppy."

Inside the house, walking in the direction of the kitchen, Timothy called loudly, "Mother! Mrs. Hanson loves Rusty. She says 'thanks for everything', and she's going to go to Christmas Eve Mass with us tonight, too!"

Copyright by Evelyn Horan


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