When I was only four years old my mother died. It was hard for all of us in such grief. My dad's mom (my grandmother), as the loving person she is, came from her house eight hours away to take care of us.
At first, my brother and I hated her. I would call her mean things and scream at her, and make her go up and down stairs just for a cookie at night. I would be just as hateful as a four year old can be but my grandma was patient and kind and straightened us out. My grandma acted as my mother and helped me in every way my mom would have: she taught me how to cook and to be polite and encouraged me to be all that I can be and to never give up.
After seven years my grandmother left our house because my dad got re-married. Its been hard on me to let my grandma go since I can only see her once a year but I'm thankful for everything she has done for us, and for her selflessness and loving attitude. She has to be the kindest person I've ever met and I love her.
Submitted by Anonymous
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