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The Best Remedy This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   My mother stood over me and shook my feet, "Get up, you're going to be late!"

I woke up with a groan. I rolled out from under the covers and stood up, but the room tilted and caused me to fall back onto my pillow.

"Mom ... I don't feel good," I called out.

Her bathrobe tied around her and a towel wrapped about her head, my mother returned. Her cool, damp hand pressed gently on my forehead. "You're burning up. Let me take your temperature."

The cold glass rod was slipped under my tongue. I lay still in my bed.

"Well, you do have a slight temp. You should probably stay home from school," she added.

A slight feeling of disappointment shot through me. Today Mrs. Campbell was reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Kerry was going to be my jump-rope partner at recess. I don't feel that bad, I thought.

Mom reappeared, "I can't stay home from my school today because they can't get a substitute. Dad can't stay home either; he has an auction at ten. So I called Nana Rose. She said that she'd love to have you there."

An hour later my father pulled up to the big white house with rose bushes lining the driveway. "Why can't I go to work with you like the last time?" I complained.

"I told you I'm not going to be at the office today. I have auctions and then I have a meeting to go to. Besides, you're sick ... Nana will take care of you."

I scuffed my Keds on the walkway as I shuffled to the back door. As I reached for the bell, the door swung open.

"Hello, dear! I guess you aren't feeling too well this morning, huh," Nana said as she bent to give me a kiss.

I smiled politely and stepped into the kitchen. The aroma of Irish tea, cinnamon and apples quickly enveloped me. I continued into the living room where I plopped down on the couch. Nana followed close behind with a blanket which she tucked neatly around me.

"Would you like a cup of tea and toast with some jam?" Nana asked as she turned on the television and found "The Smurfs."

"I've started to make a pot of chicken soup. That'll knock the germs right out of you!"

I smiled in agreement and snuggled into the crocheted blanket. I stared at the TV, but I couldn't concentrate on what Papa Smurf was saying to Smurfette. My eyes were getting heavy as sleep set in. I woke later to the smell of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Mmmm.

I propped myself up on my elbows and peered into the kitchen to see my grandmother cooking up a storm and humming an Irish lullaby. I smiled to myself as I dropped back off to sleep. I love my grandmother. c


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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