The Three Big Miracles

My Gramma Told Me

My Gramma is the smartest person I know. At seventy-three years old she speaks from a point of wisdom few people can. Even at the age of fourteen, I am smart enough to know when she talks, I listen. Mainly because most of the time she tells me how smart and beautiful I am. Hey, I’m a teenage girl. Yes, I suffer from mild to wild vanity depending on the occasion. And her hugs are second only to…