A Cucumber On My Forehead

And a loving grandmother who put it there.

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

When I was a young girl, around five or six years old, I would sometimes spend an overnight visit with my grandmother.

We spoke very little. Not because we were shy, or weren’t enjoying each other’s company. But because I only spoke English, and my grandmother only spoke Armenian, with just a very few English words.