As a child, I looked forward to my grandmother's visits.  She always had gifts for me, but not the kind you're probably imagining.  She collected small bouquets of flowers, and put them in tiny bottles for me; a smaller version of the arrangements she had at her home.  They were beautiful, and fragrant, and just the right size.  

On special occasions, she brought me books.  I still have most of those books today: The Tale of Peter Rabbit, The Tale of Two Bad Mice, and Little Birds Don't Cry are a few. They are classics, but more importantly, my favorite grandma gave them to me, and she would write a little note inside for my eyes only.  

When she visited, I would read her my poetry, and she would compliment my work profusely.   I look back at those poems, and realize that my grandma was a very good actress!  

After many years of writing, I decided to try to sell my work.  It was a disaster at first, and my grandma died before any of my stories sold.  Yet, I know she's still with me, celebrating the accomplishments, and comforting me through the failures.  

I keep a picture of her close by my writing desk, so that I can see her smiling face and hear her wonderful laughter, as I create my work.  I hope that my stories connect grandmothers and grandchildren all over the world, the way we were connected many years ago.

- Diane Adams