Going to Grandma's House

by Daniel Boston
in loving memory of Grandma "Choochoo" Shafer


I will never forget going to Grandma Choochoo's house. It was a small house, nestled in amongst pine trees and set back from the road. The lawn was litered with ornaments -- gnomes, candy canes, and the like -- along with a diversity of plants, trees, and other growing things. At the backdoor (the only accessible entrance), a well-worn green matting covered the cement, and formed a backdrop for the milk-bowls and feed-bowls arranged on top of it. My grandma always took care that the neighborhood stray cats were well fed. After ringing the bell, Grandma would rustle around a bit until she made it to the door. Upon seeing us, she would hurry at the locks, to be fast rewarded with showers of hugs and kisses. The inside of her house was even more exciting then the outside; the kitchen counters always had jars of sweet candy and the frig had soda. All of the chairs except perhaps two were covered from top to bottom with pillows, stuffed animals, knick-knacks, and memorabilia. My brother and I never helped the situation; we would promptly fill the floor with Legos, leaving the smallest possible path to walk on in an already small path. None of this bothered Grandma, though; she lovingly watched over us all day long, making sure we had plenty of sweets and candy in us when the time came to go home. Going to Grandma's house is one of the most cherished memories I have.