The Harmonica in the Little Black Box

This is a paper that I wrote about my Grandma and Grandpa I thought I would share.

The Harmonica in the Little Black Box
I always liked to go to Grandma and Grandpa Rock’s house. Like most grandparents houses, there was always lots of candy and ice cream. This is not why I loved Grandma and Grandpa’s house. While at their house I would sit and wait for Grandpa to get his harmonica out of the small black box sitting on the shelf. Oh how I loved what happened when Grandpa would open that box.
There were always so many things that I loved to do at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I would watch the humming birds get the pollen from the flowers, while sitting on the porch with Grandma. We would watch the trains and the big semi-trucks go by. My brother and I would ride the trikes down the hill, to see who could go the fastest. I loved to play on the swing set and eat apples off of the apple tree. I loved to eat the vegetables out of the garden or pick the flowers out of the flower bed for grandma (I don’t think Grandpa liked that to much). My sisters and I would pose for pictures by the flowers, or my favorite, by the old brass stool. We would crochet
hot pads with Grandma, or see what we could find with out grandpa knowing or catching us. I would walk with Grandma down the hill to get the paper and mail, or go visit that grey haired couple that lived at the bottom. There were always cats we could play with, that was always fun, but there was nothing like what would happen when Grandpa would get out his harmonica in the little black box.
Grandpa would sit on his chair, with Grandma next to him, and we would gather around anxious for him to open the box. He would start with “oh were, oh were is my little grey kitty,” that was are favorite, and end with,” how much is that doggy in the window”, maybe that was our favorite. We would sing for hours with grandpa playing is harmonica. No matter how bad of a day I was having or how much I would have rather been playing at a friend’s house; I would always smile when I would hear Grandma and Grandpa sing. We would sing for Christmas, Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and every other day of the year. It didn’t matter the day we could always sing.
Still to this day I remember how much I loved that harmonica in that little black box. I will always remember the smile and how happy they were with the children gathered round their knees singing while Grandpa played his harmonica. I will forever remember the love that they showed us and I will always remember them by the songs I learned. Oh how I loved what happened when Grandpa would get his harmonica out of the little black box.