Thinking of Grandma

Outside the rain was pouring down in sheets. 
I was soaked to the bone when I crossed the street.
I remember my grandma, on rainy days
She would resent my mother and her ways
Letting me go to school when it was pouring
"You better stay with me, it won't be boring!
What more are you going to learn?"
I felt the warmth and saw the coal stove burn.
I heard her soft and caressing voice
Grateful to her for giving me a choice 
Instead of arriving wet in school
And submitting to its rigid rule
I did not see any harm in staying with her at home
As I saw myself saved from martyrdom.
I was happy to benefit from her warm presence.
And would look at her with gratefulness.
"The two of us aren't going to get bored?" 
Said my dear grandmother, I adored.
"The baby birds don't leave the nest too soon"
She said while giving me sweets with a spoon.
My grandmother had never gone to school,
She knew how to love us and make us obey her rule,
This was much more enticing to me at that age
Than the alphabet, the numbers or the teacher's face
What is the good of going to school without the heart? 
We have our whole life to learn and perfect any art
When our childhood ends we are out of our dreams.
We have to become serious, it seems
Our inherent abilities and desires are manifold. 
But we risk being put in a lifeless mold.