“Whose boys are those with the holes in their pants?"I cringed. How would my grandpa answer such an embarrassing question?"Those are my daughter's children, my grandchildren," Grandpa spoke as if he'd just been asked who had won first place in a foot race or just been baptized into the church."Those pants are very well ironed," the stranger said.”

“My grandpa always said asking a question is embarrassing for a moment, but not asking is embarrassing for a lifetime.”

“When I opened the box, I had to remove myself from whose handwriting it was that I was reading and whose story I was hearing. I had to, or I never would have made it past the first letter. If I stopped to think about my Grandpa writing to my Grandma, knowing how much he loved her and how many years he spent without her after her death, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it through just one letter without an onslaught of tears. And it was Grandpa, a voice I knew so well. One that I miss terribly.”

“And it's funny because it was my grandpa who painted it shut (window) in the first place, and he had a whole storage shed full of just about every tool you could imagine. He was one of those guys who thought he could fix anything, but it never worked out quite as well as he planned. He was more of a visionary than a nuts -and bolts kind of guy.”

“(both circumvented the handicap of deafness by answering only those questions they believed had been asked & accepting only those answers they believed had been uttered - a stratagem embraced by many an American advocate)”

“Dan was thrilled that the second clue had been safely smuggled out of the church in his pants."So, really, I saved the day," he decided."Wait a minute," Amy said, "I climbed onto the roof in the middle of a thunderstorm.""Yeah, but the clue was in my pants.”