Grandpa's Painting
The past and the present connect
I opened my eyes in the dusty, quiet attic.
The old clock stood still in the corner.
Its hands pointed to three o'clock once again.
"Was it only a strange dream?" I asked myself.
But Ken's drawing was still in my hand.
The river and the bright sun were really there.
I ran down the to the living room.
My grandfather was reading in his old .
On the wall, I saw a large, beautiful .
It showed a river and a warm, sun.
I had never noticed that before today.
I stepped closer and read the small .
The name in the corner clearly said "Ken."
My grandfather painted this beautiful picture himself.
"Grandpa, did you paint this?" I asked softly.
"Yes, a very long time ago," he smiled.
"A kind friend once believed in me."
"I have kept his warm words in my heart."
My eyes filled with warm, happy tears.
That kind friend was me, from the .
"I have never seen a better ," I said.
My grandfather followed his big dream after all.
The and the were now connected.
I held Ken's two pictures close together and smiled.