Wird geladen
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author
Ruby Rhoads
When I was a little girl I would sit at the kitchen table at my paternal grandparent’s home. My grandma would prepare tea for Papa Healy and me, and we would sit dunking oatmeal cookies, without ra...mehr sehenWhen I was a little girl I would sit at the kitchen table at my paternal grandparent’s home. My grandma would prepare tea for Papa Healy and me, and we would sit dunking oatmeal cookies, without raisins, into our hot tea. Papa would tell me stories of the old country (Ireland). It was the look in his eyes and the sound of his brogue that first made me listen intently; as I got older the stories always had a lesson, which took some time for a young listener to pick up on.
As I approached babysitting age, babysitting jobs were abundant. My mother is the first of 9 children and in turn I am the first of nineteen grandchildren. I would tell stories and draw with my little cousins to keep them entertained. As they became school age I was the cousin that was recruited to help in all art projects, which I did not mind.
When I became a mother, my son was close in age to many of my young cousins and the stories continued. However, as they grew to adulthood and my audience and time grew thinner story time went out the window. Telling stories was what I loved to do and I was missing it tremendously. I missed it so much I decided to take out my pencil and start writing my stories down and now I hope to share my stories with as many children as I can.
Thank you, Papa Healyweniger sehen