“Grandma, I’m cold”
“I’ll knit you something, my dear” smiled Grandma.
After three or four days, half a beanie was done.
“When is it done?” I asked, eagerly.
“Soon” she laughed.
After another three days, the beanie was nearly finished.
I opened the door and peeped inside. Than I heard a series of sickly coughing. I ran to Grandma’s bed and cried out.
Grandma was sick. Her face was paper white. Her hands were shaky. Her eyes were sleepy.
Two days after that, Grandma had passed away. In her honour, I finished the beanie and every cold day since, I have worn it.