Grandpa’s rake whispered across the grass, pulling piles of red and gold leaves into a soft mountain.
The air was crisp and cold.
“Grandpa, why do leaves fall?” asked the boy, his tiny hands clutching one of the bright orange ones.
Category: Stories with Grandpa Bedtime Stories
Story Time Together
Grandpa’s rake whispered across the grass, pulling piles of red and gold leaves into a soft mountain.
The air was crisp and cold.
“Grandpa, why do leaves fall?” asked the boy, his tiny hands clutching one of the bright orange ones.
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