I knew I had it somewhere, but it took my daughter and me excavating in the basement to unearth the treasure. My grandmother was not only an artist with paints and thread, she was also a storyteller and writer. I knew I had her manuscripts somewhere in my house because I couldn’t imagine letting them be lost.
So I put them in a safe place – safe even from me. My daughter and I were looking for something entirely different when she pulled out a pink box. It was flat and shallow, but long. We flipped open the lid and there they were. My grandmother’s manuscripts.
Some of them are children’s stories which will be shared with the cousins before anyone else sees them, but some of them are the musings of a widow from her back porch.
I’ll post some of them here with proper attribution and dates as I can find them. I just love treasure chests.