Family
Childhood Memories
Farm Life
Childhood
Family Relationships
Coming of Age
Nostalgia
Fish Out of Water
Coming-Of-Age
Humorous Mishaps
Family Drama
Strong Female Protagonist
Family Secrets
Time Travel
Misunderstanding
Consequences
Responsibility
Winter
Animals
School Life
About this ebook
Other titles in In Grandma's Attic Series (3)
Treasures from Grandma's Attic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In Grandma's Attic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5More Stories from Grandma's Attic Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
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Titles in the series (3)
Treasures from Grandma's Attic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In Grandma's Attic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5More Stories from Grandma's Attic Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
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Reviews for In Grandma's Attic
111 ratings5 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Jul 10, 2024
We liked this book a lot! I highly recommend it. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Mar 11, 2020
My children were fascinated as the granddaughter with Mable's exploits. A sweet collection of stories. - Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5
Nov 30, 2016
I really wanted to enjoy this- I have memories of how much I liked it as a child. I guess, though, I've been spoiled by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Every little story in this book just skims the surface- I kept wanting more depth. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Apr 26, 2011
Wonderful, wholesome tales of farm life in Michigan in approximately the 1870s. Arleta Richardson was actually brought up by her grandmother, but in the books she comes for extended visits and finds many objects in Grandma's attic and just around the house that provoke Grandma into telling Arleta the story surrounding the object from her own childhood. Or Arleta and Grandma are doing something together and by asking a question or simple conversation will bring about another tale of Grandma's childhood. The stories in this book centre around when Grandma was between about four and nine years of age. They tell of a wonderful, harder yet simpler life, when items such as a water pump made life so much easier. These are tales of a little girl or her older brothers getting into mischief, being downright naughty or simply becoming caught up in embarrassing moments. Some of the stories have what could be called a lesson to teach (or a moral) but they are gentle and not the emphasis of every story. The books in this series are classified as Christian fiction, and while the family believes in God, mentions their beliefs, and acts accordingly this book is no more Christian than any other mainstream story that features a Christian family, such as the Ingalls family. Rather than telling one cohesive story the book is more of a collection of vignettes with each chapter telling a new reminiscence from Grandma's childhood. There are small details that recur from time to time in later chapters that hold the book together well. Lots of fun and humour which I thoroughly enjoyed. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5
Apr 24, 2011
Imagine my excited surprise when I got these sweet and adorable books! Now, why on earth would I be EXCITED about children's books???? I thought you might ask that. So here's why. This year I am turning the big 3-0. Yep, I'm THREE decades old this year. But, about 21 years ago, I went to a yard sale with my mom and grandma, and purchase this really SWEET little book for 25 CENTS! It was entitled In Grandma's Attic by Arleta Richardson, published in 1974. It was really falling apart but it was such a sweet little book and I was really getting into the reading thing so I added it to my mom and grandma's purchases from this yard sale. I still have that book. It was sitting on my bookshelf when I got these two. I didn't put the connection to it until I started reading these sweet books, and things started sounding familiar and coming back to me (gosh, I sound like I have amnesia---that's because I read this book TWENTY ONE years ago!). I went and got the falling apart book and compared it....sure enough, it's the SAME book, just broken down into more than one book! I was so happy, because this was one of my FAVORITE books growing up, to pull of the shelf and read. It took me back to my grandma's house and made me feel like I was up in her attic (yep, she's got an attic quite similar to the one from these stories!). So, now I am the proud owner of David C. Cook's ORIGINAL 1974 publication of In Grandma's Attic AND the 2011 re-publication of In Grandma's Attic series, books 1 and 2.
Now that I have that little story out of the way, I will tell you that these sweet stories are PERFECT for all those young readers out there. They take the children on a trip to grandma's house and some make you laugh out loud too :-). These are the kinds of stories I wish were made for all the kids now a days instead of the Twilight books. I definitely recommend these books for all the children (and, I recommend it to all the adults out there who like to read stories like this----they're warm and inviting and bring back memories!) out there who love to read. Five stars and high praises to Arleta Richardson!
Book preview
In Grandma's Attic - Arleta Richardson
1
Pride Goes Before a Fall
Grandma, what is this?
Grandma looked up from her work. Good lands, child, where did you find that?
In the attic,
I replied. What is it, Grandma?
Grandma chuckled and answered, That’s a hoop. The kind that ladies wore under their skirts when I was a little girl.
Did you ever wear one, Grandma?
I asked.
Grandma laughed. Indeed I did,
she said. In fact, I wore that very one.
Here, I decided, must be a story. I pulled up the footstool and prepared to listen. Grandma looked at the old hoop fondly.
I only wore it once,
she began. But I kept it to remind me how painful pride can be.
I was about eight years old when that hoop came into my life. For months I had been begging Ma to let me have a hoopskirt like the big girls wore. Of course that was out of the question. What would a little girl, not even out of calicoes, be doing with a hoopskirt? Nevertheless, I could envision myself walking haughtily to school with the hoopskirt and all the girls watching enviously as I took my seat in the front of the room.
This dream was shared by my best friend and seatmate, Sarah Jane. Together we spent many hours picturing ourselves as fashionable young ladies in ruffles and petticoats. But try as we would, we could not come up with a single plan for getting a hoopskirt of our very own.
Finally, one day in early spring, Sarah Jane met me at the school grounds with exciting news. An older cousin had come to their house to visit, and she had two old hoops that she didn’t want any longer. Sarah Jane and I could have them to play with, she said. Play with, indeed! Little did that cousin know that we didn’t want to play with them. Here was the answer to our dreams. All day, under cover of our books, Sarah Jane and I planned how we would wear those hoops to church on Sunday.
There was a small problem: How would I get that hoop into the house without Ma knowing about it? And how could either of us get out of the house with them on without anyone seeing us? It was finally decided that I would stop by Sarah Jane’s house on Sunday morning. We would have some excuse for walking to church, and after her family had left, we would put on our hoops and prepare to make a grand entrance at the church.
Be sure to wear your fullest skirt,
Sarah Jane reminded me. And be here early. They’re all sure to look at us this Sunday!
If we had only known how true that would be! But of course, we were happily unaware of the disaster that lay ahead.
Sunday morning came at last, and I astonished my family by the speed with which I finished my chores and was ready to leave for church.
I’m going with Sarah Jane this morning,
I announced, and set out quickly before anyone could protest.
All went according to plan. Sarah Jane’s family went on in the buggy, cautioning us to hurry and not be late for service. We did have a bit of trouble fastening the hoops around our waists and getting our skirts pulled down to cover them. But when we were finally ready, we agreed that there could not be two finer-looking young ladies in the county than us.
Quickly we set out for church, our hoopskirts swinging as we walked. Everyone had gone in when we arrived, so we were assured the grand entry we desired. Proudly, with small noses tipped up, we sauntered to the front of the church and took our seats.
Alas! No one had ever told us the hazards of sitting down in a hoopskirt without careful practice! The gasps we heard were not of admiration as we had anticipated—far from it! For when we sat down, those dreadful hoops flew straight up in the air! Our skirts covered our faces, and the startled minister was treated to the sight of two pairs of white pantalets and flying petticoats.
Sarah Jane and I were too startled to know how to disentangle ourselves, but our mothers were not. Ma quickly snatched me from the seat and marched me out the door.
The trip home was a silent one. My dread grew with each step. What terrible punishment would I receive at the hands of an embarrassed and upset parent? Although I didn’t dare look at her, I knew she was upset because she was shaking. It was to be many years before I learned that Ma was shaking from laughter, and not from anger!
Nevertheless, punishment was in order. My Sunday afternoon was spent with the big Bible and Pa’s concordance. My task was to copy each verse I could find that had to do with being proud. That day I was a sorry little girl who learned a lesson about pride going before a fall.
IGAchap1.tifDINGBAT.jpgAnd you were never proud again, Grandma?
I asked after she finished the story.
Grandma thought soberly for a moment. Yes,
she replied. I was proud again. Many times. It was not until I was a young lady and the Lord saved me that I had the pride taken from my heart. But many times when I am tempted to be proud, I remember that horrid hoopskirt and decide that a proud heart is an abomination to the Lord!
2
When God Knew Best
My day was ruined. I had been promised a trip, and one of those freak, sudden spring storms had come in the night. The ground was covered with snow, and more was falling. Of course we couldn’t drive to the city in a storm. I could understand that, couldn’t I?
I couldn’t. As I poked moodily at my cereal, Grandma bustled cheerfully around the kitchen. How could she be so happy when my whole day lay in bits around my feet?
What can I do all day? No one can even come to play. How come it had to storm today? It just isn’t fair!
I complained.
Well, child,
Grandma replied, the Lord has a reason for changing your plans. He always knows what is best for us.
This I doubted, but since Grandma was so much better acquainted with the Lord than I was, I didn’t like to dispute her. I could see no possible reason for a disappointment like this, and if the Lord did have one, He wasn’t telling it to me. Finally finished with breakfast, I stared grumpily out the window. Grandma’s voice broke into my unhappy thoughts. I’m going to tie a quilt today. Maybe you’d like to help.
That would be better than nothing, I guessed. The quilt was laid out on the big table and the yarn for tying it was threaded in big needles. In spite of myself, I found the brightly colored quilt pieces fascinating.
"Look,
