Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Grandparent's Day Index

Grandparent's Day is frequently celebrated in early learning
centers and kindergartens across the United States. It is a day
for young students to give their grandparents a tour of their
school environment.
       Grandparents are the parents of a person's father or mother – paternal or maternal. In cases where parents are unwilling or unable to provide adequate care for their children (e.g., death of the parents), grandparents often take on the role of primary caregivers. Even when this is not the case, and particularly in traditional cultures, grandparents often have a direct and clear role in relation to the raising, care and nurture of children. Grandparents are second-degree relatives and share 25% genetic overlap.
       National Grandparents Day is a secular holiday celebrated in the United States of America and the United Kingdom since 1978 and officially recognized in a number of countries on various days of the year, either as one holiday or sometimes as a separate Grandmothers' Day and Grandfathers' Day. It is celebrated on the first Sunday following Labor Day, September 10th. in the United States.
      During the week that follows September 10th, young children often spend time with their grandparents at school. Because the holiday falls at the beginning of the school year, there is little time for their teachers to plan elaborate shows or exhibits. So it has become a customary time for sharing the daily routines of young school children with their older visitors.
       Craft or reading activities emphasizing family are often planned in advance by the school sponsor or PTO for these holiday visits.

Crafts for Grandparents Day:
Little Louise and Her Grandmother,
Frances Cordelia McDowell.
Poems About Grandmothers by Lillie Gilliland McDowell:
  1. When Grandma Sews
  2. Grandma's Aprons
  3. Cuddle Time
  4. Grandma's Errands
  5. Grandma's Little Girl
  6. Herb Tea
  7. Tea at Grandma's
  8. When Grandma Knits
  9. A "Blue" Story
  10. Christmas Secrets
  11. Dancing Dolls
  12. Heigh-ho. 'Tis Her Way!
  13. Girls Will Be Girls
  14. When Grandma Comfys Me
  15. Out At Grandma's
  16. My Grandma's Getting Old, They Say
  17. Fellow Feeling
  18. What Kind of Grandma Do You Like?
  19. Grandma's Stories
  20. A Tea Party
  21. When Grandma Loses Her Specs
  22. G-R-A-N-D-M-A
  23. Contrast
  24. I'll Be Your Valentine
  25. Two Proverbs
  26. The Old Sampler
  27. When Grandma Tucks Me In
  28. A Pertinent Question
  29. The Way Out
  30. The Old And The New
  31. When Grandma Was a Little Girl
  32. Counting The Baby's Toes
  33. Grandma's Young Days
  34. Grandma's Hygiene
  35. Grandma's Prayer
  36. Loneliness
  37. When Grandma Punished Me
  38. Grandma's Lullaby
  39. The Old Willow Basket
  40. Retrospect
  41. Grandmother's Garden
More Poets Write About Grandparents:
  1. For Grandma
  2. Grandpa
  3. Grandpa's Glasses
  4. To a Grandmother
A collection of letters written by a grandparents to grandchildren. I have edited some of these and updated spelling. Use them in a literacy unit or read them aloud for fun. (Letters by children telling Valentine stories here.)
  1. A letter about a new dog...
  2. "The Doll Party" letter from grandpa
  3. A letter from Grandpa about Easter eggs and ducks 
  4. The donkey and the dog pull a cart... 
  5. Disc and The Cats Now Eat Together! 
  6. A letter about Grandpa's childhood
Grandparents Online:

Tea at Grandma's

Tea at Grandma's

When I go to my Grandma's house, she plays I'm
company,
And takes my wraps with such an air and says:
"You'll stay to tea?"
She gets out her best silver, then-great-Grandma
Winslow's plate-
And all her pretty china, and we eat in grandest
state.
But when I'm done, although she's made for me
all that to-do,
She says: "There childie, run along, so Big Dark
won't catch you."

Cuddle Time

Cuddle Time

Each morning, soon as I'm awake,
Before my prayer is said,
Or 'fore I'm ever dressed at all,
I climb in Grandma's bed.
I put my arms about her neck,
She puts her arms 'round me;
And I just lie so comfy there,
While Grandma cuddles me.

She talks to me so soft and low,
About this "clean, new day";
And what I'd ought to put in it.
Of study, work and play.
It really is the queerest thing,
But true as true can be;
It's easy to be good all day,
'Cause Grandma cuddled me.

Grandma's Aprons

Grandma's Aprons

Of mornings, till her work is clone,
She wears a great big gingham one.
It covers her from waist to shoe,
And if she ever had to do
Without it, 'xpect she'd sigh and say,
"I really cannot work to-day."

But after-noons, when work is done,
She wears a nice white starchy one,
With cunning little bows in place,
Or maybe it's all trimmed in lace.
She looks so sweet in this, I say,
"My ! but you're all fixed up to-day."

I wonder, when I look at her,
Which of the aprons I prefer.
The white one is so nice and neat.
The gingham means good things to eat.
But ask me, and I'd likely say,
"I love her most dressed either way."

When Grandma Sews

When Grandma Sews

My Grandma sews so very well;
She makes her stitches small and straight.
While mine look most like
turkey-tracks
(But then,, of course, I'm
only eight).

My Grandma's thread don't crinkle up;
It's always smooth and nice like this-----------
She often has to help
with mine,
But makes me pay
her with a kiss.

My Grandma keeps her
pretty box
So neat it's ever a de-
light,
While things in mine get
tossed about
Until it is a perfect
sight.

My Grandma sews with glasses on;
I manage well enough without.
If seeing were the whole of it,
I'd learn to sew with ease, no doubt.

When Grandma sews her
patch-work blocks,
She fits her pieces neat
and true,

But let me try howe'er so
hard,
This is the best that I
can do.

But Grandma pats me on the cheek,
And tries to cheer me all she can,
And says, "My dear, how well you sew
I'm really proud of little Nan."

Retrospect

Retrospect

It's a long, well-beaten track
That she traces - looking back.
Thorns and stones beset the way;
Clouds obscured each sunny day;
Toil was hers, and stern affray,
Looking back!

Pain she sees, and sorrow's rack
Through a tear-mist - looking back.
Joy, she says, was there as well;
Peace beyond what tongue can tell
Love thanksgivings must impel,
Looking back !

Not a moment did she lack,
Testifies she - looking back,
Grace to meet her every need;
Manna rich her soul to feed,
Far, she says, beyond her meed,
Looking back !

Peace, we know, she'll never lack,
As we watch her looking back.
Peace that glorifies her brow,
Hovers o'er her dear lips now,
Till we wonder why and how,
Looking back!

The Old Willow Basket

The Old Willow Basket

O, poets have sung of the old oaken bucket.
Like-wise of the bootjack that hung on the wall.
My lyre I'm attuning to sing of a treasure
To my humble notion surpassing them all.
I speak of the basket my Grandmother cherished.
And gladly I offer this tribute of praise
To the dear willow basket, quaint willow basket.
The old willow basket of Grandmother's days.

At home it held proudly her mending and knitting.
Her great balls of worsted and gay colored yarns.
Her needles and thread, and her latest quilt piecing.
And even the stockings awaiting her darns.
In short, a receptacle, useful and handy,
Revealing her neat and industrious ways,
Was that blessed old basket, that queer old basket.
That old willow basket of Grandmother's days.

When calling she came how we hurried to meet her !
With whoops of delight the old basket we'd hail.
We knew that a store there of lovely surprises
Its uplifted lid would reveal without fail,
O, still I can smell the rare odors that greeted
Our senses from sweet-meats and apples in store
In that old willow basket, rare willow basket.
Entrancing old basket that Grandmother bore.

But now she is gone, as an heir-loom it's left us,
A cherished reminder of old-fashioned days.
O me! while we praise, admire and adore them,
I fear we've not copied her dear, thrifty ways.
But close in our memory fore'er we'll enshrine it,
Our voices forever in homage we'll raise
To that dear willow basket, precious old basket
That hallowed old basket of Grandmother's days.

Grandma's Lullaby

Grandma's Lullaby

Bright-eyed stars are peeping
'Tween the cloudlets white;
Calling to the sleepy earth,
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night!
Tired little flowers
Nod their drowsy heads,
Chicky-bids and birdies, too,
Long since sought their beds.
All the world is sleepy,
Swathed in moonlight white;
Winds are crooning soft and low,
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night!

Sweetly sleep, my dear one,
Watched by angels bright;
Fear shall not disturb thy rest,
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night!
Darkness hovers o'er thee,
Soon will come the light;
Breezes waft sweet dreams to thee,
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night!

When Grandma Punished Me

When Grandma Punished Me

One time out at my Grandma's house
I got a naughty spell.
And Grandma looked so kind o' s'prised,
And said: '"Louise! well! well!
That doesn't seem like you at all.
Whatever shall I do?
So bad you've been I really think
I'll have to punish you.

Now just you stand behind that door
Till you can better be."
"It tires me so to stand," I said.
"And hurts me in the knee." 
"Try sitting then. Right here's a place.
Beside that window there.
Where you can have the morning sun.
And plenty of good air."

"I hate to sit schrunched up." I cried.
"Why, Grandma, now you know
That every single time I sit.
It always cramps me so!"
"What then," she frowned, "for well you know
That spanking I won't try:
I don't believe in it at all."
"No, ma'am," I said, "nor I."

"Dear me! Dear me!" poor Grandma sighed.
"That there should come to me
So sad a time as this when I
My duty cannot see!"
I hugged her hard. "Poor thing," I cried,
"I truly pity you.
I mustn't worry you like this:
I'll tell you what to do!

Just put me out there 'neath the tree,
Upon that grassy spot;
With cookies three, and make me eat.
If I want them or not."
And grandma laughed and looked relieved,
And brought the cooky pan.
And said: "I'm glad you thought of that,
It is the very plan!"

Loneliness

Loneliness

Grandma's gone a-visitin',
And O, my dearie me!
I never really knew before,
How lonesome I could be.

I mope and mope around the house,
And do not care to play;
And nothing seems to be just right,
Since Grandma's gone away.

I miss her apron from it's nail
Her bible from the shelf;
But most of all I think I miss,
Just dear Grandma herself.

Grandma's Prayer

Grandma's Prayer

Each evening when I say my prayer,
I kneel at Grandma's knee;
And Grandma always bows her head,
And folds her hands like me.
I thank Him for his loving care,
As all dear children should:
And ask Him for His tender grace,
To help me to be good.
And Oh. He hears my prayer I know.
And keeps from me each harmful foe.

Then Grandma says a little prayer,
As soon as I am through;
I fold my hands and bow my head,
And try to join in too.
And Oh, the words seem brimming full
Of faith and love most sweet,
Although it is a simple prayer.
And easy to repeat.
Just: "Father, guard me through the nigh'
And keep me safe 'till morning light."

Now Grandma prays, I'm very sure,
A dozen times a day;
I often linger near her door.
To hear what she might say.
She asks Him for enough of strength
To help her bear her load:
And pleads that He will hold her hand,
As she toils on the road.
And that He hears and gives her grace,
We know it by her peaceful face.

But Oh, I think the sweetest prayer
I ever heard her pray.
Is that brief one she says with me.
At closing of the day.
It seems to me 'tis good enough
To whisper when you die;
And all the angels bright would bend
To listen from the sky,
To "Father guard me through the night,
And keep me safe 'till morning light."

Grandma's Hygiene

Grandma's Hygiene

My Mamma says that little girls
Should eat what makes them strong;
That when I eat what injures me,
I'm doing very wrong.

She says that pies and cakes and such,
Are far too rich for me,
And if I hope to sturdy grow,
I'll have to let them he.

But Grandma says to Mamma, "Fie!
Let her eat what she craves;
These squeamish notions going 'round
Are making people slaves."

Don't think about yourself at all,
If you would healthy be.
I always eat just what I want
And nothing e'er ails me."

I don't know which of them is right.
But this I truly know;
When Grandma writes, "Come spend a week,"
I'm always glad to go.