By Lee So Young

Published in International Journal for Teachers of English Writing Skills
Special Literary Edition 2001, Volume 8, Number 2, pp. 145-146.
Robbie Dean Press, Ann Arbor, MI

I remember my grandfather.
He made a swing for me and I swung high.
I felt a cool breeze on my face and felt like a butterfly.
My grandfather told old tales to me, and I was always excited as if I had become the heroine.
Sometimes,
My grandfather carried me on his shoulders.
I felt like a giant.
But most of all,
When spring came, I remember going on a picnic with him on a mountain behind our house.
We saw flowers of sky-blue, violet, green, and yellow, and smelled their delicious scent.
 

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