By Lynda Ewell
Grandchildren bring joy, happiness and laughter into our world. They make us laugh and they make us cry. They can make us feel young again and they can make us feel older than dirt. Without a doubt, grandchildren own our hearts and hold our happiness with their endless hugs.
When our granddaughter, Carlie, was 3 years old she had her grandpa and I wrapped right around her little finger and we loved every minute of it. We would’ve done anything for her. We felt it was our job to make her happy. It was our duty as grandparents to make her laugh and make her smile.
Our daughter called me one day to tell me Carlie fell down in the driveway and skinned her knees. It was her first real boo-boo. The little girl was beside herself trying to deal with the pain of skinned knees. Her mom had cleaned and dressed them and set her up comfortably on the couch with a popsicle assuring her she would feel better in no time.
The next day our daughter called to tell me that Carlie was still complaining about her skinned knees. She claimed they were so painful she couldn’t walk; she was spending the entire day on the couch. Our daughter assured me she was fine. She was overacting. Day three – yup, you guessed it – she still wasn’t walking. Our daughter called. Now, she’s starting to become concerned. Could Carlie have “really” hurt her knees when she fell? Could there be some damage she couldn’t see? Should she take her to the doctors? Perhaps she needed x-rays. Our daughter needed a little guidance. I told her we would be right over.
We made a quick stop on the way to our daughter’s house. Once there we suggested that we all go outside and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine under the tree in the backyard. Carlie started crying saying that she couldn’t walk, her knees just hurt too much. No problem, Grandpa picked her up and carried her outside. He set her down on a chair taking care that she was comfortable and we sat down across from her on a bench. I reached into my bag and pulled out the cure for skinned knees. McDonald’s French fries. Carlie’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands. She asked if she could have some. We told her of course we bought some for her, come on over and get them. She reminded us that her knees weren’t working. She wouldn’t be able to come and get them. I told her we would hold them for her and eat slowly so she would have enough time to get over to us and get her fries. She cried. Our daughter looked concerned. Grandpa and I sat there eating French fries. This is when the miracle happened.
Carlie stood up and walked – that’s right – she walked all the way over to us to get her McDonald’s French fries. It might not sound like much to some people, but a miracle took place in that backyard that day. That 3 year old was healed with McDonald’s French fries, and a little ingenuity from her grandma and grandpa.