It was all
brown and clean; even the dust and dirt were scared of going near. It was where
our summer memories lay. We grew up to embrace Grandma’s home, where the food
was always hot, the cool aid always chilled, our manners were in check and
neighbors lavished pastries at our arrival.
Grandma’s
home lives in our memories; it is where we always long to go, home to us as a
family; a safe haven where the hustles of the city are forgotten and we are
safe in the arms of Grandma’s home.
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