|Perhaps it can be explained away by how busy I was at the time, but it suddenly struck me earlier this week that I do have a story actually written by our grandson Paul, one about grandson Parker and another about granddaughter Lexa, as well as one about little Berend; but few if any by or about their parents, aka as our children Bennie and Erika. Fortunately, I happened across a folder full of mementoes about them and spent a whole day scanning over a hundred, from which I am now culling what seems worthy of more attention.|
How would it feel to be a bouncing ball.
It would feel nice if you didn't get lost.
One day when I was in the store I
saw somebody coming towards me. See I'm
one of those kinds of balls that are
a regular size and I'm red. And coming
back to the man. Well he just picked me
up and gave the man some money
and took me right out side and started
throwing me againts the wall and kept
on catching me the he through me
to high and I went on the roof. I was up
on the roof for a very long time. Then I
saw a boy who took me and got down
from the roof with me in his hand and he
took a lot of needles and put then in the grass
and put a piece of cardboard and put
me on iI and he was just about to jump
on me when a wind came and blew
me strait to the store where I came
from. The End.