avatarLisa S. Gerard

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t is.</i></p><p id="b71f"><b>It sure is.</b></p><p id="78d3">Wide-eyed innocence is intoxicating, grounding, and warms my heart.</p><p id="0377">A simple conversation with my grandson as I tucked him in bed — delivered with his contemplative, soft-spoken, and tender words — erased all of my daytime challenges.</p><p id="0e3b">Visit <a href="https://medium.com/the-memoirist">The Memoirist</a> publication for a variety of personal memoirs by hundreds of writers.</p><p id="dd10">I offer a 100-word memoir each month, just snippets, to share my life.</p><div id="a26b" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/his-bright-eyes-shine-blue-19da17981bce"> <div> <div> <h2>His Bright Eyes Shine Blue</h2> <div><h3>My future, who knew?</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*5mbLg-yqh_8YyCD0Z8w-iQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="d874" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-moms-truth-my-mouth-won-t-speak-the-pain-in-my-heart-and-head-98326a40fdb1"> <div> <div> <h2>A Mom’s Truth: My Mouth Won’t Speak The Pain in My Heart and Head</h2> <div><h3>What can I say?</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div>

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    </div><p id="788e"><i>Connect with me and say hello!</i></p><figure id="b5d3"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/0*ePjMtlOy1ry3xYTC.png"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><p id="e4ab"><a href="https://lisagerardbraun.substack.com/"><b>Substack</b></a><b> | <a href="https://simily.co/members/lisagerardbraun/blog/">Simily</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B09Q83CW34">Kindle Vella Nonfiction</a> | <a href="https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B09MHG8VQ7">Kindle Vella Fiction</a></b></p></article></body>

BEDTIME TALKS | 100-WORD MEMOIR

An Innocent Dreamer: The 5-Year-Old Boy from Africa Earth and His Big Heart

This is what life is all about

Image by Tony Minguillon from Pixabay

Where do you come from, Yaya?

Uh, New Jersey.

Where do you come from, Ian?

South Africa. You know, Africa Earth.

Oh, I see. I didn’t know that.

I was looking for you.

I was in New Jersey, I guess.

That’s why I couldn’t see you.

Yaya?

Will I dream about a dog tonight?

I’m not sure, Buddy, let me know.

Yaya?

I love you one million, one hundred, plus ten times.

Aw, thank you, Ian.

I love you one million, one hundred, plus eleven times.

Wow, thank you, Yaya. That’s a lot.

Yes, Buddy, it is.

It sure is.

Wide-eyed innocence is intoxicating, grounding, and warms my heart.

A simple conversation with my grandson as I tucked him in bed — delivered with his contemplative, soft-spoken, and tender words — erased all of my daytime challenges.

Visit The Memoirist publication for a variety of personal memoirs by hundreds of writers.

I offer a 100-word memoir each month, just snippets, to share my life.

Join Medium here for just $5 a month and read without limitations.

Connect with me and say hello!

Substack | Simily | Kindle Vella Nonfiction | Kindle Vella Fiction

Parenting
Relationships
Grandmother
This Happened To Me
100 Word Memoir
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