Grandpa's Workshop Essay

Grandpa's Workshop Essay

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Fluffy white snow glistened on the ground a few weeks before Christmas, 2007. I have never been a fan of the cold, losing feeling in my limbs or wet saggy clothes, but I was determined to trudge my way to Potter’s Golf Course to sled ride with friends. That determination was shot down quickly, as Grandpa’s rusty, red Ford pick-up truck eased into the steep driveway. Excited to be out of school and out of the house for the day, I bolted out the door and right into Grandpa.
He shrugged off the collision and smiled, “Where’re you headed kiddo?”
Aggravated that I had to carry on a conversation I answered repulsively, “Potter’s to sled.” Instantly realizing the insolence of my answer, I attempted to make up for it with a genuine smile and playful pat on the back.
“Ah sledding. I remember when …” and he went on with a story I’d surely heard hundreds of times before. “What do you think? We could work this afternoon and take Grandma to Cracker Barrel tonight.”
All I could do was stare with a blank look on my face. He had to know I wasn’t paying attention, just as he had to know I wanted to go sledding. He repeated himself, “What do you say? Let’s go out to the shop and make toys for Children’s Hospital? Christmas always sneaks up and I want to make as many as possible.” My heart melted as the words left Grandpa’s mouth. Not so much because I couldn’t go sledding, but for the undeniable desire Grandpa possesses to help others with no consideration of accepting anything in return.
The urge to be with friends dwindled, “Of course,” I grinned. Each year Grandpa made various toys for the children who would be in the hospital during the holiday season. I was especially proud that year, because I helped design the toys with Grandpa....


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...d with confidence. The day came and went with ease as we talked about school and sports and joked about all the small things that never seem to matter at the time. Sledding down the biggest hill couldn’t have compared to my time with Grandpa that snowy winter day.
As the weeks passed we continued our production. That Christmas, we made over seven hundred toys for the local Children’s Hospital. Each car and ring toss was engraved with the sole word, “believe”. We wanted each child to have something they could put their hope and faith into.
Delivering the toys to the children created a sensation of accomplishment that I have yet to find elsewhere. Melancholy faces shone bright like sunshine as we cheerfully entered rooms, making small talk with the kids and distributing the wood works. I was reminded that life’s greatest happiness comes from the smallest gestures.

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