Grandma Drawing Novels & Stories

She climbed up with my help, snuggling against his frail side, her small hand resting against his. "Hi, Grandpa!" she said, her words enthusiastic. "I drawed you a castle!" Grandpa June’s hand cold, bony but still firm patted her curls. "A beautiful castle, sweetheart. Got room for an old king?" Hope giggled. "Big room! For you and Papa!"

Kathy mustered up what strength she had to smile as brightly as she could at her granddaughter. “I drew you this.” Eve handed the picture to Kathy that she had drawn in the car on the way over. “Oh, what a lovely picture it is.” Kathy complimented the drawing. “That’s me, that’s you, and that one is Mommy. We are all watching The Grinch while we open our Christmas presents.” Eve pointed to each little thing as she explained her drawing in great detail. “Aw that is lovely.’’ Kathy cooed sweetly. “Would you draw me another one?”

Lily was coloring at the counter, her tongue sticking out in concentration. “Good morning,” Kira said. Elena turned and smiled. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” “I did.” “Coffee?” “Please.” Her mother poured her a cup and handed it to her. Kira took a sip and sat down next to Lily. “What are you drawing, baby?” Lily held up her paper. It was a picture of a house with stick figures in front. “That’s us. You, me, Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Marcus.”

“A drawing? “ I voice before looking up at both women. They look at each other just as confused. “A drawing?” Maddie repeats as Aunt Funda furrows her brows. “IS that it? A drawing?” She goes, sounding annoyed. “No- there’s a letter too, but-” Again, I look back to the drawing. If I lift it up toward the light, I think I can better gather the meaning. It doesn’t help very much when I do. It’s in crayon- and it is not by a skilled hand. This looks like the work of a child. I can’t help but wonder. Did my father draw this? Why? Are stick figures riding a dog? Block? Thing? I can’t tell.

I said enthusiastically. I began removing the canvas from the protective bag to show it to her. My grandmother took the canvas in her two hands as she stared at the rough pencil sketch on it. “This looks much better that I had imagined…” Granny said thoughtfully. “What does that mean? Don’t underestimate your own granddaughter. Actually, I based this sketch on a photograph of us that we took together a while back,” I said. “So, how can I help you today, young lady?” Granny asked. She handed the canvas back to me and I smiled at her.

"Mine was different from everyone else's." I unfolded it. She'd drawn it carefully. David and me at the center. Isabella, Alex, Claudia branching below. Mrs. Kane and Mr. Thomas on David's side. And on my side— Two figures. Labeled in her careful seven-year-old handwriting. *Grandma Catherine. Grandpa William.* Drawn with the same detail she'd given everyone else. Present in the tree. Branches intact. Below them, in smaller writing: *I never met them but they made Mama so they're part of my tree too.*

It was just the two of them in a doorway, looking at what they were looking at, being exactly where they were. The drawing was in the centre of the desk. Katřina had made it at the kitchen table on a Saturday and had brought it to Grace with the focused pride of someone presenting completed work for assessment. The assessment had been: I’m putting this on my desk. Katřina had received this as appropriate. The drawing was in wax crayon, large confident strokes in the colours Katřina had selected, and at the bottom in letters that were entirely her own interpretation of the alphabet was written, in Grace’s transcription in pencil below: MAMA’S WORK. What the drawing depicted was not entirely c

he said eagerly. Layla drew a portrait that included herself, Jessamine, Thaddeus, Lucas, and Thomas. Although the drawing didn't look very polished and the brushstrokes are somewhat childlike, it didn't affect the message the portrait conveyed. "Great-grandpa, this is our family. I wanted to make you look a bit more handsome, but I haven't quite learned how to do that yet. Next time, I'll do better and make sure to draw you as the most handsome great-grandpa in the world," Layla promised.

He grinned. "Wow! They look beautiful in your drawing." Jayson complimented, while Grandpa and I chuckled because the drawing is just a stick with a head, stick hands, and legs, but at least they have a dress and long hair. "Good job, young man," Jayson said and ruffled his hair. Gian grinned and kept his drawing inside his bag. "I'll show it to Ana and Alice when they come." "Hurry to finish your food; we are leaving soon," Grandpa told him, and he quickly resumed eating and bid goodbye after eating, and they left.

She straddled me and slapped me hard across the face more than a dozen times while roaring, “You crazy bitch! You're just as psychotic as your grandmother! “If that old hag was so powerful, why did she fail to foresee that I would swap her walnut? Let's see who can save you this time!" She raised the curved knife high, aimed it at my heart, and was more than ready to stab me. Fear consumed me, and I promptly closed my eyes in despair. 'I'm sorry, Grandma. I might be joining you in the afterlife soon,' I thought, firmly believing that I was going to die right there and then.