by Annabelle C.
“Oh, why did it have to rain today?” Andi huffed as she slipped on a clean dry dress. She glanced longingly at her denim overalls laying folded on her night table, wishing she could wear them instead. But today was Sunday and Mother never let her wear overalls on Sundays.
After Andi finished a quick tidying of her bedroom, she ran to the stairway, slid down the slick banister, and hurried into the kitchen. She smiled, hoping nobody had noticed her in her fun.
Andi soon found this to be a wasted hope.
“Andrea!” her mother sighed as Andi rounded the corner. “How many times do you need to be reminded not to slide down the banister? Proper young ladies walk down the stairs.”
Andi bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll try not to do it anymore.”
Mother frowned but said nothing more about the matter. “Would you get my extra tablecloth for me?” she asked, changing the subject. “The usual Sunday tablecloth tore somehow, and the extra is in a trunk in the attic.”
“Of course, Mother!” Andi exclaimed. She had scarcely ever explored the attic before and would be happy to do so this dull afternoon.
As Andi walked back up the stairs, she wondered what discoveries the dark attic would reveal to her.
“Achoo!” Andi sneezed, heaving herself into the dusty attic. She held up the lantern to survey her surroundings. Filth coated the floor and boxes were scattered around in heaps, waiting for someone to see what they contained. Andi grinned, but she knew that before she could explore, she must find her mother’s tablecloth.
Carefully, Andi set the lantern on a pile of tattered books. She remembered mother’s words, telling her that she would find the tablecloth in a trunk. Glancing around Andi spotted an old chest. “It must be in there,” she mused.
Andi slowly inched her way to where the chest stood, stepping over items which littered her path. After clicking the trunk open, she pushed back the lid and glanced inside. It was full of blankets, washcloths, and towels. A perfect place for a tablecloth to be stored.
For several minutes Andi dug around. She sighed in frustration When she could not find anything able to fulfill Mother’s request. Just when Andi was ready to give up and look somewhere else, she yanked out a large, light-blue tablecloth. She had found it at last! Now she could finally explore.
Andi decided to start with the boxes next to the trunk, but she was disappointed when she found them to be empty. Andi frowned and shoved the boxes aside.
To her surprise, a small cradle stood just behind where the boxes had been. Unlike most of the attic treasures, the boxes looked new and unused. When Andi blew the dust away, the cradle’s white paint shone as if it were still wet from the paintbrush.
Dragging the cradle closer to the candlelight, Andi examined it more closely. After doing so, she found a name on its side, printed in neat, cursive writing:
Andrea Peck
Andrea Peck? Andi thought. Who is that? Someone with the same first name as I have, has her cradle in our attic? Why?
Clutching the tablecloth tightly in her fist, Andi raced down the stairs once again. She needed some answers to her questions about the mysterious cradle in the attic.
When Andi finished explaining to her mother what she had found, Mother smiled but Andi saw an odd sadness in her eyes.
“She was your grandmother.” Mother explained. “The cradle is a keepsake, to remind us of her.”
Andi’s eyes widened. “My grandmother? Does that mean… she was your mother?”
Mother nodded. “She died long before you were born.”
For what seemed like forever, silence reigned. Andi considered Mother’s words carefully until at last, she spoke. “If it doesn’t hurt too much, could you tell me about grandmother?”
And Mother did.
For the next half-hour Mother shared many stories about her childhood. Andi soon learned that her grandmother had been a very kind, compassionate woman, who Andi wished with all her heart, she could have met.
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