Grandma Drawing Novels & Stories

It took me a moment to snap out of it as I stared at Noah Barrett's lips, which had not moved at all. I had been reborn and returned to the day before my first attempt to escape the mountains with Noah. Instinctively, I folded the unfinished map in my hands. Noah tugged at my sleeve. "Mom, why did you stop drawing?" His inner voice, however, slithered into my ears like a venomous snake. "I wanted to wait until Mom finished so I could show it to Grandma. As long as Grandma knows, she'll give me candy."

Dillan commented which made Moira sight. "I don't know. I don't dare speculate at this point. I just have to save this party. I feel sorry for Grandma," Moira said. So, Dillan and Rhea signaled her to calm down, then they immediately grabbed their cell phones. "Whose work does your grandmother like?" Rhea asked. "What kind of paintings?" "Realistic. Grandma so fond of cats, but her illness prevents her from realizing that," Moira replied.

Something more fragile than that. "She draws," I said. "Like really draws. Not just for fun. She sees things in a way that is hard to explain." "Her grandmother drew," Claire said quietly. "My mother. She was a botanical illustrator. I always thought it skipped a generation with me." I looked at her. "It did not skip. It just went sideways." She looked back at me with an expression that reminded me of the way adults looked at me sometimes when I said something they had not expected from someone my age. I was used to it. I did not always know where the things I said came from. They just arrived.

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?”

“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.

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.