Poetry & Fiction

A Gift From Gramps

By Aisha Bhoori

for my sweet sixteen

Gramps gave me

a gift

a sleek, red Benz

and I loved that red Benz so much

I went and

put It in my heart

I nurtured It in there

and found a home for It

right in the center

of my heart

I was so excited that I went

and told Gramps about my heart’s

new red infatuation

but for some strange reason

Gramps was disappointed

real disappointed

his blue eyes pierced with a sense of alarm

and he quietly advised

put that red Benz

where It belongs

your heart’s not big enough

to be clogged with

 such a big piece of junk

angered, I thought Gramps was being

an old, senile, nuisance

so I proudly showed him my heart

and exclaimed

see Gramps


there’s just enough space

surrounding the red Benz

for other stuff

but for some strange reason

Gramps was insistent

real insistent

his blue eyes pierced with a sense of alarm

and he went and took

my lovely red Benz from me

for days I was forlorn and depressed

wandering about with

a gaping hole in my chest

my heart was so empty

I didn’t know what to refill it with

so I took bits and pieces of things

in an attempt to ease the pain

right in the center of my heart

where that red Benz used to be

I sprinkled a little




and even some


just to make my heart


soon a whole year passed by

and the next thing I knew

it was time for my birthday

I had a big red velvet cake

with seventeen candles on it

and when I blew out the candles

I forgot to make a wish

or maybe

I just didn’t have

anything good to wish for

in either case, after everyone was done

singing and clapping

something strange happened

Gramps came up to me

told me to follow him

and led me outside to our garage

there the gigantic red Benz sat

neatly adorned with a red bow

but for some strange reason

I wasn’t as excited as I should have been

to see my long lost love

not wanting to disappoint Gramps

with my lack of gratitude

I gave him a great big hug

but he just shrugged me off

placed a set of keys

right in the center of my hands

and with a wink, said

this time, I hope you keep that gift

where it belongs

About the author

Guest Authors

Guest Authors

As a virtual mosque, we strive to provide a safe space for learning and discussion. We would like to invite our readers to join this process. Everyone has a reflection to share, expertise on a specific topic, or a new idea. We hope, by opening up submissions from guest authors, that we can highlight the work of new, talented writers in our virtual community.


Leave a Comment