I wanted to go to a party. Especially it was a beach party. It had been almost the only thing my friends had been talking about for the last couple of weeks. But My mom had said no. The more desperately I pleaded her case, the more forcefully my mother said no. "I don't care who's going," said coldly my mother, "you are not going." I was heartbroken. This was my best friend's party.
Sunday dinner came around and my grandmother joined the family for the meal. Gran noticed my depression but didn't say a word. It was my turn to wash up and Gran said, "Let me help you." "What's up?" asked Gran as I dumped the dishes into the foaming water. Gran wiped a plate with a tea towel. "Mom won't let me go to my best friend's party." I said sadly. "Has mom explained why she doesn't want you to go?" asked Gran. "No." I replied. "Then for a moment, put yourself in her position." said Gran. "If you were mom, what would your objections be?"
I hadn't stopped to think about my mom's side. "Well," I answered, "it's a beach party. Maybe she doesn't trust us or thinks we'll get into trouble."
"Are there going to be any adults there?" asked Gran. "No," I said, "who wants their parents hanging around when you're trying to have fun?" "Might it just be," said Gran, "your mother doesn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you.""Nothing will happen." I objected. "Maybe you're right," said Gran, "but maybe mom's worried in case it could."
Gran looked at me gently, seeming to expect my agreement. For a minute or so, I kept silent, pondering for a while about my eagerness for the party. "Maybe, you are right, however, is there no hope?" I inquired. "Not necessarily." answered Gran, lost in thought.
Paragraph 1: "Then maybe think of a compromise." suggested Gran.
Paragraph 2: The long-awaited beach party finally came.
