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by Lynn Ransford (Author)
"Grandma, tell me a story," was the request that came at bedtime or sitting together on the porch swing or, most often, from the back seat on long car trips.
"O.K. What kind of story would you like to hear?" I asked.
"Any story... maybe about when you were young, or when my Dad was little...How about the times when you got lost?" Or, "Tell me about your pets when you lived on the chicken farm...like when your dog got hit by a car or about Tough-y, your pet rooster."
However, bear stories were the favorite. "But you've heard all the bear stories so many times," I'd protest.
Each grandchild always countered with a convincing explanation. "I like to hear them over and over, especially when Grandpa was charged by grizzly bears. Did Grandpa really cry?"
So, by popular demand, I'll begin with stories about bears.
These are dedicated to my grandchildren, the eager listeners who encouraged me, again and again, to "tell me a story."
