Grandma Drawing Novels & Stories

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.

Then she said, "I am also going to draw something. A picture of a design. Just a veey simple one. And I am going to say that this is what Grandmother Mirada made. So they can see that she was a real person and not just a name." I looked at her. "That is a beautiful idea," I said. "I know," she said, without any false modesty whatsoever. "I thought of it just now." And then she went to join her brother on the grass. * * * * * * * * * ELIJAH'S POV: I sat on the bench after both children had gone back to the grass and I watched Hannah watch them and I thought about everything that was happening.

"Three pieces already. And the night is young. That drawing of you at the diner? Some woman offered five hundred dollars." Five hundred dollars. For a drawing of me eating pie. "I cannot believe this," I said. "Believe it. Your boy is about to be famous. Or at least successfully employed." My mother could not come. She was working. But she sent flowers. A huge bouquet of sunflowers delivered to the gallery with a note. So proud of you both. Love, Mama. My grandmother called before the opening. "I am praying for you, baby. And for Eli. Tell him his drawings are a gift from God."

“She is more than alright actually.” Grace put a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of Judith’s chair. Judith sat down. Lily was drawing something at the far end of the table with her crayons. She looked up briefly at Judith and then back at her drawing. “I am drawing Grandma,” she announced. “So we can show her when we visit.” Judith looked at the drawing. A stick figure in a bed with what appeared to be a very large smile and yellow hair. “Her hair is not yellow,” Judith said.

The next morning, after a head examination confirmed I was fine, I was discharged from the hospital. Henry and Esther came to pick me up together. "It's Grandma's birthday today. Have you prepared a gift?" Esther reminded me in the car. "Grandma likes painting. I bought a watercolor by the artist Lian Yang." I remembered Grandma saying at an exhibition that she liked this artist's work, praising her bold use of color that gave watercolors an intensity rivaling oil paintings.

I didn't even know she can draw. "What's this rubbish?" I asked. "Since we don't have any picture together. I decided to give you a drawing of us, grandma said that's a good idea. So, I drew us together." I laughed, "Thanks but this garbage belong to this," and rip off the paper into pieces. Which made her shocked. Then, I throw it like a confetti. She looked at the pieces of papers falling to the floor, but what she did next made me laughed even more.

“Can I bring grandpa the drawing I made?” “Of course,” I said quietly, “He’ll love it.” She held it up proudly, a messy picture of a man in a black robe standing beside a little girl with dark hair and on her other side was me and there was a giant sun behind. There was no mother drawn in the picture. I didn’t ask why. We got out of the car. I lifted her up in my arms, her tiny fingers digging into the collar of my coat as we walked up the steps.

I answered and the door opened slowly and my grandad peered inside "Wanna talk?" He asked with a very wide not so normal grin plastered on his face.

The way Kara showed off her drawing to the screen was like someone presenting a priceless gift. “Mommy, look! There’s a big person and a small person. It’s you and me!” Tina looked at the big and small stick figures that were holding hands and wearing skirts. They looked close. Only, there was a scribble of black to the side. Curious, she asked, “What’s this black thing over there?” “Oh, that’s Daddy!” Stunned, Tina asked, “What…?” “I only drew you and me, but the teacher said to draw a father. Since Daddy died ages ago, I drew a huge coffin!”

I'm walking about when I'm suddenly stopped by a painting that welcomes me from the day of my birth to the day I became a lady. The painter has all of my emotions in his grip. Who is the artist who created this? Gosh. Surely Grandma signed this, I thought. Was all of this painted by grandma? Oh, my God! Grandma has a lot of experience painting, something I had no idea about. My faces are everywhere inside of this. My grandma did well, I can say that. She knows how to emphasize my beauty, my grandmother. In her illustration, she enhanced my beauty. White fabric has been placed over a few. I approached a certain artwork. The white cloth was removed. Oh, my God! Here's a picture of our family.