As I walk up to the front door of the gargantuan house, I can tell that my grandfather is at home. His little dogs are barking in the window, telling me that I should not come any closer unless I’m welcome. When they finally see who I am, they stop barking and start wagging their tails at me. I now know that I’m welcome here at my grandfather’s house.
As I walk in the door, I say hello to the dogs and pet them. I look around, feeling at home. This is certainly my grandfather’s house. Everything is nice and neat, and it is quiet. I wonder where my grandfather is. As I wait for a sign of where he’s at, perhaps a sound or something, I open up the refrigerator, which is always packed with food. I find nothing, so I open the freezer. I find a gallon of ice cream, and I take out a bowl and a spoon and serve myself some.
Once I finish my ice cream, I decide to look for my grandfather. I walk up the stairs and into his office. I see the computer just sitting on the desk, waiting to be used. The desk is full of paperwork about his studies on the Bible. I sit down at the enormous chair and take a look at his work, being careful not to mess anything up. I see that he has been studying Paul’s letters to the Hebrews. I find no interest in this, and as I turn to the four bookshelves standing up against the wall, I can see that they are filled with books. There must be over two-hundred of them, and they’re on many different kinds of subjects: history, world religions, spirituality, and many more. I glance over to the next wall, and I see the huge map of the Holy Land and, next to it, a bulletin board filled with pictures from my grandfather’s past, including one of my grandmother. I look up, and I see the two old shotguns that my grandfather has owned for as long as I can remember. One of them is an old replica of a gun from the Revolutionary War, and one is an authentic Civil War gun. After staring around the room for a while, I realize that I still have not found my grandfather.
I figure he must be in one of the bedrooms. I walk across the hall and into the guest bedroom, which is plain and simple. There is simply a bed, a dresser, and a TV in this room. But, I see that he’s not in here, so I walk back down the stairs and into the dining room. I see an old sewing machine, which hasn’t worked in a long time. I remember one of the stories that my grandfather told me, and this sewing machine belonged to my great-grandmother.
When I finally walk into my grandpa’s bedroom, I hear a noise. A quiet and peaceful snore. I turn to look at the bed, seeing my grandfather lying there, sleeping, as I had expected. I decide to leave him in peace, and I go into the living room to watch TV and wait for him to wake up.