My grandfather told his grandchildren too many fairy tales for me to forget them. I went to bed lots of nights wondering if that little boy was in my swing. My grandfather, and a few others, he claimed, saw a little boy swinging in our swing several times late in the evening. When anyone tried to approach him, somehow he would quickly disappear. Even my bravest brother would back off when grandfather put him to the test. I believe my grandpa could have passed a lie detector test. My dad was a minister, but he never told us not to believe grandpa. ( which was his father-in-law) He would just laugh, and I suppose he thought that would be enough to make us doubt grandpa's stories. It didn't, and to this day sometimes I wounder if part of what he told us might be true. I say this because my dear grandmother who would never tell a lie, confirmed grandpa's story about the door of a house they just moved into would swing open every time they closed it. They put a box of fruit jars up against the door, but the door still swung open not even touching the jars. My grandmother never saw that happen, but my grandpa convinced her it was happening, so they hitched the team up and went out in the pastor to spend the night. They moved out of the house before even unpacking. We knew grandpa was a story teller, but we really liked to hear his stories. It was always like, he may be telling the truth. My grandmother lived with him till she died at age 74. I think he quit telling so many stories when his grandchildren grew up. He left a mark on me that never went away. But I would never tell a fairy tale, and try to make someone believe it. However I did check for myself to see if two blue eyes were spying on me. Ha, ha.
God Bless
Myrtle Jean Sharp
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