As far back as I can remember my family has been telling me that I let my imagination run away with me. One family member actually had the audacity to tell me I was full of malarkey.
As a child, I would come home after playing outside with my friends and as soon as everyone was seated at the dinner table I would regale them with the adventures I experienced that day. 
I always begin by saying, “wow you won’t believe what happened to me today.”
And then one night at the dinner table my oldest siblings said, “oh no, here she goes again with one of her wild stories. Mom, can’t you tell her to shut up? We can never eat in peace. You know she is full of bologna. There is no way that one person could have some crazy thing happen to them every single day of their life.
The weirdest thing that happened to me today is that my boss at Acme didn’t fire me. After I forgot to bring in the dairy delivery immediately after it arrived. He’s fires people for smaller mistakes. I consider it almost a miracle that I still have a job. But you don’t hear me telling you every night what awesome or strange thing happened to me every day do you?”
“Larry does not use that kind of language at the dinner table. And leave Sandy alone. She’s not doing any harm. She just has an active imagination. That’s all. She’s a very creative kid with a big imagination. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, imagination, sure. If anyone of the rest of us told so many lies, we would never hear the end of it.”
“He’s right Mom. You do favor her. She gets away with murder.”
“That’s enough Libby. How about we all just eat out dinner quietly.’
As a result, I never did get to tell them what happened to me. Every time I tried to bring it up. Someone would tell me to shut up, And my mother would say, “you are not allowed to say shut up in this house.
“Maybe I should start at the beginning. After I got out of school that day, I ran home. So that I could change out of my school uniform and into my play clothes. And then I ran over to my best friend’s house down the street. I banged on her front door. No one answered.
I banged and banged at the door for at least twenty minutes. I was about to give up and then I saw someone at the front window. She looked like a witch. Her hair was standing up in every direction. Her face had something sticky smeared across it. All the way up to her hairline. At first, I thought it was blood. The longer I looked I realized it was some kind of food on her face, maybe jelly. The window was half-opened she screamed out the opening, “help, help me they are keeping me, prisoner, here. Help, help, help.”
At first, I thought I better run away. She‘s some kind of witch, She‘s going to eat me. But then I saw tears slowly running down her face from her red, bloodshot eyes and down her wrinkled cheeks. And she kept wiping them away with the back of her hand. This further spread the jelly or whatever it was across her face. There seemed no end to her tears. I ran up to the front garden under the window and yelled up at her, “are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you want me to call the police?” She continued to moan and cry, “help me, help me.”
I decided to try getting into the house through the screen porch at the back of the house. My friend, Jilly lived there. But it didn’t seem like anyone else was home but this old lady. Jilly had told me that they never locked the back porch in case one of them got locked out of the house by mistake.
So I pushed it open and ran over to the kitchen door. I turned the knob and I was in. I stepped into the kitchen it smelled like pizza like it always does. My best friend‘s family is Italian and they eat spaghetti or lasagna or pizza almost every night. It always smells delicious in their kitchen. I called out, “Hello, hello where are you?” I could hear her crying from the living room. I yelled out, “hello it’s me, Sandy.”
Nobody answered me. So, I just walked quietly into the living room. I didn’t want to scare her. “Hi, it’s me, Sandy.” I saw her still looking out the living room window. I tiptoed up to her and said, “hi, I’m here. She screamed at the top of her lungs. I let out a scream myself. ” Good grief, you scared me half to death. Where is everyone? Why are you all alone? Where’s Jilly?”
She said, ” they left me all alone. They are keeping me a prisoner. They won’t let me out.”
I said, “let’s sit down in the kitchen. I know let’s eat a cookie. I saw some on the counter when I walked through there. Do you want a cookie?” She smiled for the first time.
“Yes, cookie, I want a cookie.”
I helped her sit down and pushed her chair in. We both sat quietly and ate the chocolate chip cookies. And then I said, “are you Jilly’s grandmother?”
“Yes. I’m a grandmother.”
“Are you living here now?”
“Yes, I’m living here. They left me all alone. I was taking a nap and when I woke up, they were gone. I was scared and lonely and all by myself.”
“Well, I‘ll stay here until they come home. Would you like that?”
“Yes, stay. I’m scared.”
We sat and ate our cookies for a while and I ask her what’s your name? She said, “my name is Alma. I came here a long time ago. I’m from Italy. We landed in New York City at the Statue of Liberty in 1905. We lived in Camden, New Jersey for many years. My husband was a tailor and he made suits for men. I had twelve children. They are all grown up and have children of their own. And some of their children have children. My husband died and now I’m all alone.”
“You’re not alone Alma. You live with your son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren. And now you have me, I’ll be your friend and I’ll come to visit you anytime you want me to. Maybe we could take a walk around the garden in the backyard. And there’s a big swing hanging from the Willow Tree that we could take a ride on. What do you say?”
“Yes, I say let’s take some cookies outside too. I love cookies.”
“Really I love cookies and candy. Next time I come over I’ll bring some cookies that my mom made. They’re oatmeal raisin. They are so yummy.”
Alma had a big smile across her face. And that’s when I saw Alma didn’t have any teeth. And I wondered how she could chew the cookies. I handed her two of the cookies and we sat down on the couch that was on the back porch. She finished her cookies before I did.
“Good, they’re good cookies. Give me more.”
“Maybe next time, I don’t want you to get sick.”
She smiled at me. And that’s when I heard my friend Jilly’s car drive up. It was an old car and it made a lot of noise. I said, “Alma your family is home. Do you want to go back into the house?”
She said, ‘no, I like it out here. It’s nice and there are a lot of birds and flowers. I used to have a garden when I lived in Camden in the front yard. I had all different kinds of roses. And we had a grapevine and my husband used to make his own wine. I miss that.”
“Maybe your son would let you have a garden here. And then you could go outside in the fresh air and not be stuck in the house all the time.”
“Yes, I would love to have a garden again. Let’s do that.”
And then I thought, oh no, I shouldn’t have told her that. Maybe they’ll say no. And then she’ll be sad again. “Alma, stay here. I’m going to run around front and tell them we are out on the porch. So, they won’t worry. I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
I ran out front and Jilly’s father said, “what are you doing here? Why are you here all the time?”
My friend Jilly’s father was a grouch, just like my father. I ignored what he said. And I said, “I was visiting Alma I heard her crying when I was knocking at the front door. And we were sitting on the back porch eating cookies. I told her I would bring her some of my mother’s cookies the next time I come over.”
“How did you get in the house Sandy?”
“I came in the back porch. Jilly told me it is always unlocked. And your mother and I were visiting on the porch and eating cookies. She said she wants to have a garden in the backyard. She loves flowers and grapes.”
“She did, she’s done nothing but cry since she got here. OK, let’s go see her on the back porch. We all marched around the yard to the backyard. Alma was sitting there quietly looking at the backyard. “Hello, Sandy said I could have a garden and work in the backyard.”
“She did Mom. That sounds like a great idea.”
And Sandy said, “she will come over and help me.”
“Well Mom, that sounds like a fine idea. And maybe Jilly can help you as well.”
And that is when I saw the most beautiful toothless smile appear on Grandmother’s face. That’s what she told me to call her, Grandmother. I never had a grandmother before. So, at least once a week I go over and help grandmother in the garden. And she tells me all kinds of stories about the olden days when she was growing up in Italy.
And that is how I made my second best, Alma. At least once or twice a week I go over to Jilly’s house and sit on the back porch and eat oatmeal raisin cookies with cold milk. And sometimes we go in the yard and work in the garden. I’m in charge of any worms we find. Because Alma is afraid of snakes. I keep telling her that these are just little worms but she doesn’t believe me.
To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
