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Autumn was ripening into Winter. The leaves had turned their usual shade of gold and brown, and were now tumbling from branches which would be made lighter for the oncoming season. A kind of lull seemed to happen at this time of year, in readiness for Thanksgiving. Katrina dreaded that day this year. She shuddered at the thought of gathering relations, and criticism from them. It wasn't as if she didn't want children. No matter what system they tried or what books they read, it just didn't happen. The tests from the hospital had all given results which showed that there was nothing wrong. Katrina wrapped up warmly. A visit to grandma would cheer her soul. She always had such common sense advice and lack of judgment.

As she reached the gate to her grandmother's house, Katrina pushed the creaky gate open, and gathered up the leaves which were blocking the pathway. Grandma heard the creak of the gate and was quick to react, welcoming her guest with open arms. It had been a long time since the last visit. Too many months had passed and she wanted to hear the news Katrina had about her work, her husband, her new house and her life in general. Grandma loved to be in on everything happening and it had seemed like she had been left out for too long.

As the tea kettle was boiled for a warming drink, Katrina looked around her grandmother's sitting room at the familiar faces which looked back from photographs. Grandma had six grandchildren now and their smiling faces brought upon her a sadness. Grandma had never judged her, but had long since learned the art of listening and when she returned with a tea tray in her hand, recognized the signs of an unhappy and unsettled granddaughter. She stirred the tea, waiting for Katrina to talk to her. It was never any good trying to force information from people, and she had learned that those who are patient are much more likely to be approachable. Katrina stumbled with her words, though explained about her problems. "We've tried everything, grandma," she said, though a wistful look in her grandmother's eyes told her that perhaps she knew something Katrina did not.

The old lady hobbled towards the staircase. Wait here, she said as she made her way up those wooden stairs, one at a time, as arthritis made it hard for her to walk faster. She had always been such an independent person, and when the family had tried to impose their will on her that she sell up the family home, grandma had resisted with a fierceness

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