"Come here little Sky," my grandfather said in Japanese. "Come here and climb into this basket. Hold still my little Sky, and let me pour these beans around you." He smiled softly at me, his
weathered old face, looking at me with so much love. "Take one my child and feel the immense power this little thing holds. When given the right amount of care, it will produce a life."
My eyes widened in surprise, "How Ye-ye is that possible? It is so small, how can it hold a life?"
"Little Sky, when you plant it, wonderous things happen. The nutrients in the earth's soil and the water you bring it awaken the seed and bring it to life."
"Ye-ye, that is truly a miracle," I exclaim.
"Yes, my child, a miracle from God," he replied, his lovely eyes holding mine for the last time.
The next day, we went back to the States, I was downhearted to leave my grandfather, but kindergarten was starting. I searched for his face among the crowd of our relatives, finally my gaze lighting on his. He smiled and waved his hand calling out, "Remember, I love you very much My little Sky." The next time I gazed upon his face, was beside the hospital bed, but it was too late. He had died. Never again will I see his face looking down at me.
Grandfather, why did you die? Why did you leave me when I was so young? I was your favorite, my cousins envied me for that (hehehe), but you left, you left me, your little Sky to go to Heaven's open arms. You taught me so much, but the one thing I remember, your conversation with me about the little bean seed, the life that such a little hard round thing can hold. That day, you planted your own seed, inside my heart and look Grandpa, look Ye-ye, look how it has sprouted and brought forth the life within me. I love you.
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