Finish the Story Part 3 — The Smallest Acorn

C2DAFFA4-70D5-411D-B324-7CAD9D64ED4D.jpegI got tagged by Cheryl (aka, The Bag Lady) to pick up where she left off on Teresa’s (aka, The Haunted Wordsmith) story about the smallest acorn.

Here’s how Teresa started itall off:

Alice loved collecting acorns and chestnuts with her grandfather. They would spend hour after hour walking through the woods beyond their old log cabin collecting and talking about this, that, and nothing in particular. Even though she was only twelve years old, Alice understood time with her grandparents was getting short. She overheard her mother crying one night and telling her father that it had come back. Alice didn’t know what it was that came back, but she was happy when her mother asked if she wanted to visit her grandparents.

On this particular trip through the woods, her grandfather led her down a new trail rather than their usual one that went down by the lake. It didn’t take her long to figure out why. The entire trail was lined with oak trees as tall and as thick as she had ever seen.

“These trees been here as long as I have,” her grandfather said, sitting on a fallen log to catch his breath.

“They’re wonderful,” Alice said, looking at all the colors that blanketed the clear, blue sky.

Alice started looking around along the ground for more acorns while her grandfather began telling her a story about these woods. She was really only half listening, but when the words magic, healing, and acorn reached her ears, she stopped and started listening. However, it didn’t take her very long to become distracted by the smallest acorn she had ever seen.

This acorn was perfect in every way, except it was only a third the size of a normal acorn. When she picked it up, it felt electric. As if some energy flowed out of the acorn and up her arm. It tickled and made her giggle.

“Whatcha giggling about,” her grandfather asked.

“This little acorn,” she said, holding it up so he could see it.

Her grandfather began to shake with joy. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the …

And here is Cheryl’s continuation:

…the exact acorn he hoped she would find. He knew she wasn’t listening all that carefully, but finding that particular acorn was the goal. The longstanding oaks surrounding them seemed all at once closer to him. Alice didn’t seem to notice the oaks were closer, almost sheltering them both. She handed the acorn to her grandfather. He closed it in his hand and his smile grew big.

Alice noticed a change in him, it had been a while since she saw that broad smile he used to have when they played together. “Did it make your fingers tingle, grandfather?” She looked more closely at him.

“Yes, my child. Your finding this littlest acorn is the best thing!” He looked around him and up at the trees.

And here is my part 3:

What Alice saw next was not anything she could have ever imagined. Not only did he have a broad smile on his face, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that she’d never seen before. With the small acorn still gripped tightly in his fist, her grandfather stood up and actually started to do a little dance.

“Grandfather,” she said, her voice a mixture of amusement and concern. “Maybe you should sit back down on the log.”

“Nonsense,” her grandfather said. “I haven’t felt this good since I was a much younger man. I have so much energy and I’m feeling a joy I haven’t experienced in years. I know that, thanks to you, my dear child, thanks to your having found this small acorn and given it to me to hold, that the cancer has left my broken, old body.”

“I don’t understand how that’s possible, grandfather,” Alice said, a confused and worried look on her face.

“Let me tell you a story, Alice,” he said, sitting back down on the log next to her. “You’re going to find this a little hard to believe, child, but I promise you that it will explain everything.”


Teresa’s instructions for her finish the story prompt are to read the story as you receive it, then create the next part, and pass the story onto someone else until the story is finished. Please either pingback or post a link to your contribution in the comments of the original post.

So, I’ve read the story, added my part, and now it’s time for me to pass the story to Melanie over at Sparks From a Combustible Mind to come up with part 4 of The Smallest Acorn.

Time To Write — Six Things

28AE0E6E-9D29-48F3-AD07-5E139DC71714“Why are you crying, sweetheart,” Anita’s grandfather asked her.

Anita stopped crying and attempted to wipe away her tears. “Because, Poppy,” she said, “there’s a talent show at school next week and I told everyone that I could make balloon animals, but I’ve tried and tried and I just can’t seem to do it right.”

“Well, honey,” he said, “It takes a lot of hot air to blow up the balloons like that and maybe you’re having trouble because you’re not full of hot air, like some people I know.”

“But if I don’t have enough hot air,” Anita said, “how am I going to win the talent show? And look,” she said, pointing to a crudely drawn banner, “I already made a sign to advertise my balloon animals.”

“Maybe, Anita, it would be best to find another talent for you to show off to your classmates,” her grandfather suggested. “Let’s go out and get an ice cream cone and talk about what your real talents are.”


Written for Rachel Poli’s Time To Write prompt, using the random words animals, balloon, and best, and for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge where the the things are crying, grandfather, and banner.

 

 

Pop-Pop

CB14B430-5444-40A4-9239-9DDA097F89CDThe kids loved their grandfather, who they called “Pop-Pop.”

I was worried when he moved into our house after his wife died. I wasn’t sure how Jack and I and the kids would adjust to having a grumpy, old curmudgeon that was Jack’s father in our home. And how would the old man tolerate the chaos that two rambunctious rugrats could generate?

But Pop-Pop really surprised me. He was a pure delight to have around. He wasn’t at all the bitter old man I thought he was. He went out of his way to be funny for the kids and they adored him. And he was so appreciative that we made a home for him in our house.

“What was your favorite memory about Pop-Pop?” I asked the kids.

“It was how he would always roast pumpkin seeds for us on Saturday mornings,” Eddie said.

“It was when he’d come downstairs in the morning wearing his shorts and would have on one black sock and one white sock,” Edie said. “That was so silly.”

“I bet, now that he’s in heaven,” Eddie said, “he’ll be roasting pumpkin seeds for God and making him smile and laugh all the time.”


Written for today’s Three Things Challenge from Teresa. Today’s three things are grandfather, pumpkin seed, and white sock.

Where Is Autocorrect When You Need It?

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Said he was a professional tattoo artist for fifty years. Looked like a trustworthy grandfather. Who knew he couldn’t spell nothing?

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This post is my entry for this week’s Twittering Tales challenge from Kat Myrman. Photo credit: favoritesunfl at Pixabay.com