How to write an essay about grandparents

Essays

Family

Grandma and grandpa. I cannot call these wonderful people anything else. I feel an irresistible tenderness and respect for them, since I spent my entire childhood with them. Therefore, now I would like to tell you in more detail about them and their lives.

My grandmother's name is Galina, she is from a simple working-class family of railway workers. Her childhood took place in the post-war years, the family did not allow themselves anything extra, so now she is trying her best to give me the best. All her life, my grandmother worked as a chief accountant in a cinema, and after she retired, she worked as a cashier in the same cinema. Due to this, I could attend all film premieres for free or with a special invitation. She always tried to educate me and expand my horizons, so we fell asleep only after reading at least 20 pages of the encyclopedia. My grandmother also loved to show me filmstrips, which was a curiosity in our modern world. I demanded this entertainment every time I visited her, but no one was against it. Now that I have grown up, we also communicate a lot and discuss more adult topics, but for her, I will always be her little girl.

I also love my grandfather very much, his name is Valery. We didn’t spend much time together due to the fact that he was constantly at work. He worked at a carriage factory. Grandfather, like grandmother’s parents, was a railway worker. He always brought me sweets, fruits or a new book after work, because he knew that I was less interested in toys. My grandfather tried to teach me to fish, but it was not on the list of my main interests.

This sweet couple has been together for almost 40 years, but they still haven’t gotten tired of each other. Every day, when he comes home from work, grandfather still hugs and kisses grandmother, they have dinner together and watch the evening news broadcast in an embrace. Their home and family are for me an example of true care and love, despite any life difficulties and circumstances. Harmony reigns in their lives, which is why every time I come to them, I want to take this atmosphere with me.

I am very glad that they are my grandparents, because such people set a positive example and set me on the right life guidelines.

Other topics: ← Relationships between parents and children↑ FamilyMy grandfather →

Essay about grandparents

My grandparents live in the village.
These are my mother's parents. They are both already retired, do not work and rest. I love visiting them. They are not strict, do not swear and allow everything. Grandfather is sick, he has bronchial asthma, so he walks through the forest and clearings and collects medicinal plants. He has a special book. He takes her with him. Then he finely chops the plants, dries them and puts them in special boxes. Every day he brews his own medicinal teas. And he laughs and says that he is looking for a briefcase with money.

And grandma knits. She taught me how to knit and crochet. They have a German foot sewing machine. Grandfather sews his own trousers on it, he repairs and oils it himself. In addition, he knows how to repair shoes, for example, filling heels.

My grandfather always makes everyone laugh. He says that he found his grandmother across the road, in the village. Her maiden name is “Zadorozhnaya”. She and her grandfather are from the same village.

When I asked where I came from, my grandfather came up with his own story. He didn’t invent the stork and the cabbage, but said that he found me on the bridge near the canal. From this bridge men fish. And he even showed me this bridge. Then he brought me home to my grandmother. She said that this child should be left. Then, when I went to school, I learned where children come from, but I like this story better.

Grandfather taught me

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MAOU secondary school No. 68

I have grandmother and grandfather.
Grandmother's name is Galina Alekseevna, grandfather's name is Nikolai Vasilyevich. These are my mother's parents. I love them very much. Unfortunately, my dad's parents died many years ago, so I don't know them. Grandmother and grandfather have been together for 43 years. But they are not old at all. They met in their youth, when they were still in school. Now they have six children - five daughters and one son, and my mother is the youngest in the family, and already eight grandchildren. A very big family.

My grandmother and grandfather are pensioners. But the grandmother continues to work in an industrial pharmacy. There they prepare medicines based on gelatin. And in her youth she worked at a garment factory, then as a laboratory assistant at the Gormolzavod. My grandmother also sewed fur hats while she was at home with the children. And now in his free time he knits socks for us so that we don’t freeze in winter. Grandma loves the dacha very much. There she grows various vegetables and berries, and grandma also loves flowers. She has a lot of different flowers in her yard, and her favorite ones are roses. I love coming there. There is a pond next to the site, where I like to fish.

In his youth, my grandfather worked as a bus driver. He also loves to read books and for many years he has been collecting interesting publications. He tells us different stories, we really love to listen to him. He also helps his grandmother at the dacha; together they make preparations for the winter. The cat Semyon has been living with my grandparents for 12 years. He is a very beautiful, fluffy Siberian cat. Grandfather takes care of him - feeds him, looks after him.

When the grandchildren come to visit their grandparents, grandmother prepares various delicacies, and with grandfather we really like to play lotto and dominoes.

Grandparents are always ready to help us. For example, when mom got sick, or when dad was looking for work, grandma and grandpa brought various goodies, bought something, and took my brother and me to visit them after kindergarten. It seems to me that as long as we have grandparents, we have a kind of anchor in life. Reliable support. Sailors consider an anchor a symbol of hope that the ship will not be carried out to sea or smashed against rocks on the shore. Likewise, grandparents are a reliable refuge in any storm, help and support in any trouble. They keep the memory of their parents, their ancestors, just as I will tell my grandchildren about my grandparents, and so the living connection of times will never be interrupted.

I love my grandparents very much and wish them good health!

Article source: https://school68tyumen.ru/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=696:2013-10-01-14-45-01&catid=71:2013-09-24-11-44-32&Itemid=159

Essay “My beloved grandparents”

My dear grandfather and grandmother, I adore you very much!” — this is how I ended every conversation with them on the phone as a child. And this is true. They are very cheerful and kind – my grandparents on my mother’s side. Those on my father’s side, unfortunately, died when I was very little, otherwise I would have loved them just as much. Grandfather is a fisherman and a keen photographer, so they have a lot of photographs in the house, and there are not only me or my mother, but also they and my grandmother when they were still young - both on a hike in the forest, and on the beach by the Black Sea, and at the festive demonstration: So young, beautiful and with smiles. I regret a little that I didn’t find them like this. Now they are old and wrinkled, but still, for me, their wrinkles are my favorite. And grandma, when she puts on her formal dress, blue with white flowers, and puts on her hair, she looks like a queen. Her grandfather says to her: “Masha, you are just like a free queen from a fairy tale!”, and her grandmother laughs. My grandfather worked as a truck driver until retirement, and my grandmother was an accountant. And they met in the park, at a dance, as the song says: “And your unfamiliar hand lies in my palm:” Now they have been together for more than thirty years, their home is always fun, and they are always happy to have guests, and even if they come beloved granddaughter, that is, me: The smoke just rises like a rocker. Grandma cooks pies and bakes my favorite brushwood. She is an excellent cook, and I especially adore her apple pie, “Charlotte”. But why is she a “Charlotte”, and what does some “Charlotte” have to do with it, grandma doesn’t know. And my grandfather loves to show me his photographs. Since they retired and he no longer drives, he told me this is his greatest hobby, besides his grandmother and us. Grandfather has an old but reliable Zenit camera, and he can simply photograph anything, even a worm on the moon. And one more thing - if something happened in our family, for example, when mom got sick or dad had to look for another job, then grandfather and grandmother were always ready to help, bring something, buy various goodies, taking away from their small pension. And one more thing - if something happened in our family, for example, when mom got sick or dad had to look for another job, then grandfather and grandmother were always ready to help, bring something, buy various goodies, taking away from their small pension. Or invite me to visit so that, as mom says, “Dad and I can take a break from you.” It seems to me that as long as we have grandparents, we have a kind of anchor in life. Reliable support. Sailors consider an anchor a symbol of hope that the ship will not be carried out to sea or smashed against rocks on the shore. Likewise, grandparents are a reliable refuge in any storm, help and support in any trouble. They keep the memory of their parents, their ancestors, just as I will tell my grandchildren about my grandparents, and so the living connection of times will never be interrupted. After all, once upon a time our ancestors did not know how to read and write. How would they know what people gave birth to them, what lands they came from? How would they know how to live in the world if not for their grandparents? If only they were healthy and cheerful! Always, always remember about your older relatives! They are already old, and they have no one closer to us. After all, their own parents are already dead. And even if, when I’m visiting them, their concern seems obsessive to me, I look into their kind eyes and feel ashamed. May my dear grandmother and grandfather live a long, long time, and not change at all, do not get sick or waste away! We really, really need them! When I was little, it seemed to me that my grandmother was always a grandmother. How else? And most importantly, it has always been there. And will be. I was not very interested in her past, I just knew and loved my grandmother. But I know: she was both small and young. What was she like?.. Was she as mischievous in childhood as I was, or did she grow up as an obedient girl?.. Did she commit stupid, rash acts in her youth or not?.. Do I, her youngest grandson, look like that Galinka Vishnevskaya from distant wartime? The desire to understand this came to me much later than I would have liked. Grandma is no longer around. But I still conduct a dialogue with her: Involuntarily and invisibly. Sitting on the sofa next to my beloved grandmother, I often listened to her stories. And in my memory, as if from mosaic chips, a picture of her childhood and youth took shape. Either with bright strokes or with a watercolor haze, I painted the image of my grandmother: a special smell, a feeling of comfort and peace, like from a large warm soft cloud, and a ringing, almost girlish laugh. I am ready to carry the story about my grandmother Gala throughout my life and pass it on to my future children. Through the haze of June foliage, the silhouettes of houses darken. The asphalt became soft from the heat hanging over Moscow. Sunday, June 22, 1941, everyone is getting ready to go to Gorky Park. There will be swings, carousels and ice cream! Little Galochka, as the youngest in the family, was sewn a new dress. It doesn't matter that it's made from the sisters' old dresses. Galya is standing on the table, her mother is trying on a dress for her. And then they announced on the radio: the war had begun. My grandmother was seven years old. No, she didn’t understand why mom was crying, why everyone was talking and walking around so anxiously. Granny never told me how she felt on the day the war began. I think it's not at all difficult to guess. The horror of war for a seven-year-old girl is not the Nazis or the breakthrough of the Soviet defense: These are the tears of her mother. This is dad going to war, the fourth in his life. It just seemed to her that there would never be more sunny days in her wartime childhood. I asked: “Grandma, why do you write like that, were you taught that way?” She told me that in the 174th Moscow girls' school, the classrooms were not heated for almost the entire war, the desks were very cold, and your hand began to freeze if you held it on a notebook for a long time. So I got used to it. And the handwriting was calligraphic! Living in a barracks on Malaya Miusskaya Street, almost in the center of Moscow, during the war years she ate cake. With the kids I collected and sniffed candy wrappers that I found in the trash near the House of Composers. And she rode down the hill on a sled, down to the bottom of the crater left from the house on the next street. How children's fun is intertwined with the "fun" of adults - war! The long-awaited Victory Day has finally arrived! Flowers, joyful cries, fireworks! But there was none of this on Malaya Miusskaya. The women went out into the street. They silently brought out the tables and set them. In complete silence, the whole courtyard sat down at this festive table. And they remembered the relatives and friends who did not return from the war, who gave their lives so that this Day would come. And then they sang songs. Sad Russian songs. I see it so clearly that I think I even hear these voices and understand the words. It seems that I smell a slight smell of May leaves, dust beaten by the feet of old people, children and women. As grandma said, the fireworks came later. But Victory Day is a quiet holiday for her, and now for us as well. And then there was a whole life. Life, later enclosed in one line: date of birth - date of death. The life that gave me this whole world. The world in which I live, I love and remember my grandmother Galya.

Essay “My Grandfather and Grandmother”

International distance “SCHOOL INFO COMPETITIONS”

for preschoolers and students in grades 1–11

My beloved grandfather and grandmother.

There are a huge number of people living on earth, but among them live two wonderful people: my grandfather and grandmother. Every person has grandparents, but it seems to me that mine are the best.

From the first minutes of my life, I felt the love of my parents, their care and affection. I saw their faces, which, regardless of the time of day, radiated happiness and warmth, I understood the importance of these people in my life. I understood that these were the closest and dearest people I had. But from the first days I felt the support of not only my parents. Often my grandparents were nearby, and sometimes I saw them even more than my parents. They say that grandparents are a gift from God. They lead us on the right paths. When, for example, it comes to making serious decisions and taking important actions, or, conversely, about tolerance and forbearance, we can all turn to our grandparents.

My grandfather, Asvarov Sharafudin Emiragaevich, is a man with a capital M, who played and continues to play an important role in my life. It was he who had a huge influence on the formation of my character. I now understand how close in spirit he will be to me. Every day I trusted them with the most precious things - my life and destiny. My grandfather is very cheerful. When we sit down with the whole family at the table, our dinner begins with some joke. But at the same time, he is very reasonable and wise. This is evidenced by the gray hair at the temples and his always understanding look. He is a very interesting person.

I was brought up on his stories about my past. These stories are interesting and instructive for me. My grandfather was born in 1936 in the village. Yaldzhukh, Akhtynsky district. In 1943 he entered first grade. My childhood and years of study coincided with the harsh period of the Second World War.

My grandfather says that they had almost no books, notebooks, and there weren’t enough teachers. They wrote with crayons on black cardboard paper, wrote and erased. But we studied, we studied conscientiously. “There were no teachers of Russian language and literature until 1946. In 1950, Russian teachers arrived. There were also difficulties in the fact that they lived in starvation, were dressed very poorly, the classrooms were almost not heated, their hands were frozen, it was difficult to hold a pen, the ink in the bottles froze, it was difficult to defrost. The post-war years were not easy either: it was necessary to restore the economy destroyed by the war, destroyed cities and villages.”

Grandfather also said that he always dreamed of becoming a teacher. And in 1952 he entered the Derbent Pedagogical College. “If I got a C on the exam, I lost my scholarship, which was hard to do without. And there was nothing to expect from home.”

After teacher training school, my grandfather worked at the Archit school for two years and entered DSU in 1958. After graduating from the university, my grandfather was sent to our school, where he worked as a teacher of Russian language and literature before retiring. I'm proud of my grandfather. He is an Excellence in Education for Schools of the RSFSR.

Adults say that when there is a grandmother in the family, there is always a place in the house for something good and kind, especially for children. She can teach poems, prayers, and life values, which are now so lacking in some modern families.

My grandmother Nasiyat Alidarovna also worked as a teacher at our school, and is now retired. I love listening to her stories. She talks about her youth, about those times when I was not yet there. I listen to her with great interest and curiosity, because it’s so interesting to learn about what happened before. My grandmother and I did everything and now we do it together. We often have a heart-to-heart talk with my grandmother. For me, such evenings are moments of childhood happiness.

I'm already sixteen years old. But despite everything, one thing remained and, I hope, will remain unchanged for many years - the trust that I have in my grandparents. I know that my every day is brightened by their words, wishes, and smiles. They are priceless, but unfortunately, they are not endless. Everything in the world has its end and, no matter how much we fear it, it will come. I have the power to move it away and hide it far, far away so that everyone will forget about it. And I try and struggle to move the inevitable things forward. Every day spent next to me is important to me.

Now other questions interest me and my loved ones, other topics of conversation. Now the main and main task is not to determine the menu for tomorrow, as we did in childhood with my grandmother, but to choose where to go. Which path to choose and who to become? What is more important: high income or something you like? Or maybe it’s worth taking a risk and combining both? We will be thinking, deciding and talking for a long time. I know only one thing: she will pray for me and my parents, forgetting about herself as before. I will pray for her, I will postpone the inevitability for her another day and I will live, enjoying her presence in my life.

This is how they are, my grandparents: silent on the outside, but deep and sensitive people on the inside. We've dealt with a lot, we've been through a lot. And I hope we will cope too in due time. But we have a very powerful weapon in our hands: the invaluable experience of our grandparents. They did it, which means we can do it and do it better, largely thanks to them. Don’t forget and love that priceless gift that nature created for us, saved time and can take life at any moment. Love your grandparents.

Years will pass, and I, too, will become old. And I will definitely tell my grandchildren what my grandparents were like.

Good luck to you, my family, and happy upcoming professional holiday!

Asvarova Fatima 11B class MKOU "Soviet Secondary School"

Source of the article: https://infourok.ru/esse-moi-dedushka-i-babushka-2017988.html

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MAOU secondary school No. 68

Essay “My beloved grandparents”

Essay “My Grandfather and Grandmother”