My grandma and grampa owned an apple farm, every year my grampa would stack up the boxes for the pickers to fill with apples. This year was no different. My grandpa worked for two days piling those boxes just right. The stack was over twelve feet high when he was done. When he went to bed that night, he was understandably tired. But he was wakened by the wind howling outside.

He heard the wind knocking the boxes from the stack. But there was nothing he could do about it. He just laid there with his eyes wide open, thinking how much work it would be to re-stack them. He waited till dawn to see what damage had been done.

Grandma slept beside him, and when grampa told her about the boxes being blown over, and how much work he will have to do. Grandma said, don't worry John, I have taken care of it. and when grampa went out to look at the scattered boxes, there was a twelve foot high stack of the boxes just as he had left them the afternoon before.