The Stories We Told
My Grandmother died in a kindergarten classroom. She would visit once a month to read her latest stories to the children, before they would be published for the world. She would call them her focus group. If too many children became fussy, she knew the story wasn’t ready. She had begun this practise when I had first attended the school and kept at it long after my graduation. Despite her books adorning the classrooms and bedrooms of children around the world, she always preferred to have them read aloud. She thought it made them come alive.