It wasn't until I was 12 years old before I met my Grandfather for the first time. I heard stories about the man ever since I can remember, but they were only stories. He was everything I had imagined him to be: tall and thin, refined, kind, gentle, and humble. Even though he was aging quickly, he stood straight and tall. He was the owner of a jewelry store in a small town, and everyone knew and loved him. As my parents and I walked toward the store I could see him standing outside watching down the street for us. His eyes glistened and a smile grew across his aging face when he recognized us. His hair was white. His arms instinctively began to rise as he reached out towards us, and I ran to one of the best hugs I had ever been given. This was my Grandfather.
Although looking fragile and elderly, he managed to lift me off the sidewalk with that first hug, and from that moment on we became best friends. He loved to hear me talk, and I loved to listen to him talk, especially about the history that he lived. On that first visit, Grandfather proudly showed me around his store. He showed me the shiny cases that held brilliant pieces of all types of jewelry. The store wasn't large, but he did have a second floor where he lived. Suddenly his smile began to withdraw as he looked at me with his fading, yet still sparkling blue eyes and asked, "Would you like to see my back room?" Seeing the quickly changing smile, I felt a bit uneasy but fully confident in my Grandfather's leading.
"What's in the back room?" I asked hesitantly.
"My most cherished possessions. The ones I do not put out for sale. I have invited very few to enter my back room." His smile quickly returned, and he reached for my hand and led me to the back room. It was small, but beautiful. There was a small desk where Grandfather obviously worked on his accounting and business for his store, with a rather large comfortably looking chair. I noticed a filing cabinet, safe, and then, in the back of the room, an exquisite display case. Grandfather walked over and put his hand on top of it. It was long, but only as high as my chest and Grandfather's waist. It stood on four legs of hand carved wood, with glass sides and a glass top so that you could see the precious, sparkling specimens it held from any angle. I glanced back to my beaming parents who were standing in the doorway watching my reaction to the first time I saw the dazzling spectacle. My eyes grew wide as I looked closer. There were no less than a hundred rings of all sizes, shapes, and color, neatly and delicately laid out on a black velvet material. Each one had been placed there with care and all were lovely to behold! They had been polished and obviously placed with a gloved hand, as none had any marks other than that of purposeful splendor. After a few moments of my gawking, Grandfather quietly said, "Choose one to take home with you." Were my ears deceiving me? I couldn't possibly take one of these home!
"Oh, no, Grandfather, I couldn't possibly..."
"I insist. I want you to take one for your own."
It only took me a few seconds to choose the ring I would call my own. It was gold with what looked like leavesengraved on the side and had beautiful dark blue gems outlining a cross. It was perfect. Grandfather carefully took it from the display case and handed it to me. It happened that it fit my middle finger perfectly, and I wore it with such pride for the rest of the time we were visiting my grandfather. But once it was time to leave, I gingerly slid it off my finger and placed it in my deep pocket. I kept my hand in my pocket for most of the 27 hour bus ride home, constantly rubbing the outline of the cross and feeling the bumps of the leaves on my new prized possession.
Despite the many miles between us, Grandfather and I continued to be close in spirit and in each other's hearts. We wrote letters every day. We called monthly and talked for as long as my parents would allow. The distance truly made us grow fonder of each other.
When it was time for my parents' annual trip to visit Grandfather, I insisted that I join them without much, if any, resistance. I was considerably taller now, and Grandfather had a bit more difficulty getting me off the sidewalk with his initial hug when he saw me, but he succeeded. After the usual greetings, we walked into the store, and Grandfather again led me to the back room where he kept his cherished rings.
"I added a few since you have been here. Please choose another to take home with you."
"Oh, no, Grandfather, I still have the beautiful one you gave me last year, and I couldn't possibly..."
"I insist."
I took my time and searched through all the beautiful rings in the display case. This time I chose a thicker wooden ring that had sparkling red gems placed around an engraving of a mountain around the edge. This one slid easily on my ring finger, and again, I wore it proudly the entire visit with Grandfather. As soon as we boarded the bus, however, I quickly slid it off and into my pocket to keep it safe during the long bus ride. I was anxious to get home and see both of my rings side by side on my fingers or safely in my drawer. Now I had two prized possessions!
The next year I chose another ring. This one was gold with a pink gem. It had beautiful flowers engraved all along the outside and adorned my pinky finger majestically. It was more delicate than the other rings I had chosen, but it's delicacy drew a surprising comfort and splendor. This ring felt magical! My prized possessions were now three awesome rings with each having their own unique features, that I kept polished safely in my drawer.
When I was 15 I chose my fourth ring from Grandfather; it was silver with yellow gems. This one was more simple than the others, yet had its own distinctive charm. If I looked closely and squinted my eyes, I could almost see the shape of a butterfly in the yellow gems. I couldn't have been more happy with my four rings, especially knowing they were also cherished by my Grandfather. We now shared our passion and enjoyment of the rings and continued to grow closer and closer.
Once I turned 16, my parents gave me permission to take the journey by myself, so I made plans to visit Grandfather before our annual scheduled trip. I traveled alone and was anxious for the long ride to be over and to be reunited again with my very best friend. With this reunion, Grandfather never quite got me off of the sidewalk with his bear hug. I stood on my tiptoes to let him feel like he was lifting me, when in reality I was close to his height now and had put on some more pounds to make it nearly impossible for him to lift me anymore. He still stood tall and distinguished and still gave great hugs, but he was getting older and not quite as strong as when I had first met him four years earlier. We walked to the back room and headed straight for the display case. Grandfather smiled as I closely examined the rings. He even pointed out some of his favorites, and eventually I chose one he had told me came from a faraway country. It was an ivory ring with purple gems forming the fire that was coming from a golden dragon. I held it carefully and turned it over and over to see the purple "fire" glitter in the light. Again Grandfather told me what a rare and beautiful ring I held and approved of my choice. We had a great visit, but not nearly as long as we desired.
My new ring fit nicely on my thumb, but before I got on the bus, I slipped it off and put it in my pocket, as I had done with all of my rings before. I was hungry and gulped down the sandwich Grandfather had packed for me, and then wiped my hands and face with a napkin.There were no trash cans on the bus, so I put my napkin and empty sandwich bag in my pocket. I instinctively felt for my newest prized possession and felt a wave of panic when I couldn't find it! I knew I had put it in my pocket, where did it go? I took the crinkled napkin and bag out of my pocket and examined them carefully. Nothing. I looked on the floor by my feet and scanned around the area for the precious white ring. I looked beside me on the seat and noticed my shaky hands. I felt in both of my pockets again for the ring, but there was nothing there. Where could it have gone? I thought back to when I first got on the bus and tried to remember everything I did. I know I put it in my pocket! Where is it and how did it get out of my pocket? My heart began to beat faster and faster until I decided to stand up and search my pockets again, knowing for a certainty I had put the ring in my right pocket. I reached in my pockets to turn them inside out, and as my fingers went to grab the seam at the bottom of my pocket, I sighed out loud when I felt the cold piece of ivory! I stood for a moment on the bumpy bus, relieved and thankful for the touch of that ring. I took in several big breaths of air before I sat back down in my seat. The mere thought of losing that precious ring made my stomach hurt. I held it carefully in my hands and couldn't keep my eyes off of it. I carefully and slowly turned it over again and again. I watched the purple gems sparkle and made up stories in my mind about the dragon. I couldn't bring myself to put it back in my pocket, so I kept holding it. I was determined to stay awake to avoid the risk of possibly dropping it if I slept; I stared at that ring the entire 27 hour ride home! My eyes were heavy and I felt weak when I finally got home, but it was worth it to be able to hold onto that ring and now place it with the others where it could not get lost. It was only then when I was able to fall asleep; the ring was safely home.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
Hi Tale ^_^
I’m not sure I buy that a 12 year old would run up and hug someone they’ve never met? Maybe. I guess what threw me off is that he doesn’t seem emotionally connected to the stories he was told about his grandfather because of the line “but they were only stories”. I guess that just set a different tone in my head, so the hug caught me off guard.
I do like that you have raised some intrigue here. I’m wondering why he hasn’t met his grandfather in 12 years if he is such a kind, gentle person. Interesting.
Again I need some convincing. What’s fascinating about his grandfather’s history? A small example could have worked well here.
Try not to repeat distinct phrases in such quick succession, it can get tedious to read.
Oh, the parents sort of just appeared out of nowhere, maybe try incorporating them earlier on?
Aww that’s so sad ☹
What bus ride lasts 27 hours?! Is that even possible or legal?!
***
Overall this is quite heart-warming. At first, I didn’t think I would enjoy it all that much, but then it crept under my skin until I ended up liking it whether I wanted to or not. That’s pretty powerful to be able to write a story like that.
Your writing was pretty good for the most part, it’s more the structure I think needs some work. Some of the paragraphs are huge mountains of text and can easily be split into easier chunks for readers to digest. It kind of works though for a narrative piece, to have longer paragraphs, but not THIS long.
My other structural issue is the repetitiveness of the scenes. The protag visits his grandfather five times and returns with a ring each time. Even though I think your design ideas for the rings were really awesome (I want that first ring so bad!), when the same thing happens over and over, it does get a bit tedious to read. Maybe something interesting could happen during each visit to do with his relationship with his grandfather, like Scribbleinks said, you could show more insight into their bond so that we can connect to it better.
My favourite part was when he thought he lost the ring, I could sense how devastated he was, and I think we can all relate to that moment where you think you’ve lost something valuable but then you recheck your pockets and feel that moment of joy when you touch the item again. So well done for capturing that.
That’s all I have for now. I saw another two chapters so I might review those as well ^_^
-Zoom
Hey Taleof6kids!! Happy Review Day
I'm dropping by to review your work!
Let's get onto it, shall we?
You have a repetition from your description of the protagonist's grandfather with "tall". I'd suggest just removing "and tall" and sticking with straight.
Another repetition for "aging" which you used earlier ("he was aging quickly").
Just a heads up! I would break up your paragraphs. As a reader, long, chunky paragraphs can be intimidating! Whenever there is a change of Time, Person, Place, or Topic is usually a good indicator of when to start a new line. That way, you don't have huge paragraphs without breaks that make it hard to read, or may be grammatically incorrect.
So since this is from a first person point of view, we wouldn't know that his arms are raising instinctively. They could be raising involuntarily, for all the protagonist knows. And then the other thing! I find it odd, despite the fact that this is her grandfather, that they just immediately runs into his arms? I might just be really sensitive about this! But it does strike me as odd that there is no hesitation? But maybe that's just the kind of character the protagonist is. Just keep in mind, stories are one thing, but their grandfather is still a stranger in all but blood to them.
Now I wanted to point this out because I'm not sure you're aware, but this gives off super creepy vibes. Especially since they just met, grandfather or no, this is one of those things that I would stick alarm bells on to and run away from.
Again, bringing up the point of view thing, but does the protagonist actually know this is hand carved wood? Or is this just a description set into place for the readers? Because it stuck out to me as odd that a 12 year old would be so perspective as to notice something like that, unless they knew about carving wood/they were looking really closely?
leaves engraved*
This is an jarring leap to suddenly have them in a bus ride home? This would be another good place to split your paragraphs, since this and the previous sentences don't fit together.
While your descriptions of each ring is beautiful and paints a lovely picture, you don't have a lot of descriptions else where? I can't picture what the protagonist's surroundings look like. I think you could be a little more generous with your descriptions beyond the rings. The other thing that ties into this is I wanted to mention that for a few paragraphs, all that's written is just descriptions of the rings? Which is fine, and all, but I would like to see a little more substance in between!
Another thing! Is that while the relationship between the protagonist and their grandfather is touching and sweet, the reader can't connect very well to it? Most of the relationship is just fed to us (this would be a place where telling vs showing would be an issue. You're just telling us that the protagonist and their grandfather are close, but aren't giving us anything else to back it up).
It sounds like it is impossible for him based on the earlier sentences though?? Not "nearly".
All and all, this was a very sweet and lovely story about a child and their grandfather. I would have liked to have a little back story on why he started collecting rings in the beginning! And to add to my previous point, it would make an excellent addition to showing the relationship between the protagonist and their grandfather if you showed them talking about some of the stories about the rings.
That's all I've got for you today! Keep up the good work
I hope you have a wonderful day!
Hello there! I'm here to review.
Your story is about a growing fondness between a child and his grandfather. In the first paragraph, the last few sentences could use a makeover. There is a repetitive use of "hugs" and much has been stressed on grandpa's physique. I liked the latter part of the story better. But the ending can be improved if more emphasis is given on what the rings mean to the boy. The story is linear and the plot can be paced in a better way, avoiding irrelevant details. There were a couple of grammatical and spelling mistakes which I'm sure will be corrected on editing.
Good luck and keep writing.
Thank you! I appreciate your thoughts and will definitely tweak this per your suggestions! This is actually a symbolic story about me and my kids, so that may explain some of the "irrelevant details."
Thank you, again, for taking the time to share your review!
Looking forward to chapter 2.
Everything can be expanded/edited later but keep the story flowing. Do the rings hold some magic? I'd like that.