My first discovery was his grandmother"s great love of music. She spent hours playing her old， off-key piano. One day， she told me I didn"t have enough fun in my life and 11）took it upon herself to teach me the art.

Grandma was impressed with my ability and encouraged me to continue. Weekends in their house became more than just books and cooking； they were filled with the wonderful sounds of the out-of-tune piano and two very out-of-tune singers.

When Christmas break came， Grandma got a chest cold， and I was afraid to leave her. I hadn"t been home since Labor Day， and my family was anxious to see me. I agreed to come home， but for two weeks instead of four， so I could return to Grandma and Grandpa. I said my good-byes， arranged for their temporary care and return home.

As I was loading my car to go back to school， the phone rang.

“Daneen， don"t rush back，” he said.

“Why？ What"s wrong？” I asked， panic rising.

“Grandma died last night， and we have decided to put Grandpa in a retirement home. I"m sorry.”

I hung up the phone feeling like my world had ended. I had lost my friend， and that was far worse than knowing I would have to return to dishwashing.

I went back at the end of four weeks， asking to begin the work-study program again. The financial aid advisor looked at me as if I had lost my mind. I explained my position， then he smiled and slid me an envelope. “This is for you，” he said.

It was from grandma. She had known how sick she was. In the envelope was enough money to pay for the rest of my school year and a request that I take piano lessons in her memory.

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