Jane Olsen, Quinn’s fifth grade teacher said, "Quinn loves words. She loves to read them, to write them, to play with their possibilities. She has endless patience for the demands of good writing, taking the time to choose the right words, to say precisely what she means, and to season every piece of writing with fresh, potent metaphorical language. In addition, Quinn has a gift for plumbing the deep meanings in ordinary life moments. She is an exceptionally talented and insightful writer and poet."
My Grandfather is blue-green
The soft pink inside of a seashell
The smooth gray surface of the round little pebble
Washed up on shore
The rainbow after a heavy rain.
He is the inviting shade
Of the blossoming cherry tree
The luscious plant overflowing with fat red tomatoes
Sweet with a touch of sour
Tangy and tart.
My grandfather is the tricky Sudoku puzzle in the Sunday papers
The crinkly-eyed frown of frustration and determination.
He is my grandmother's pea and she is his carrot
The cheer-up rally when she's feeling down
The automatic escort for over the hills or simply up the stairs.
My grandfather is the warm, embracing hug
The proud hands that clap
Of a chubby hand placing the last building block on the stack.
My grandfather is the warm, easy smiles
But most importantly, he puts his family first and himself last.
- Quinn Gregorich