I was eleven when we had to move out of the big old house in which I had spent my whole life. Each time I thought of that, I felt very sad. When the final day came, I ran to a corner and sat alone, trying not to let others see my tears. Suddenly I felt a hand patting me on the shoulder. I looked up, and saw my grandpa. 'It isn't easy, is it, my grandson?' he said in a very low voice, sitting down beside me. I nodded through my tears, without a word. We sat silently for a long time. Then he said, 'Good-by is such a sad word that it seems too cold for us to use. We must try to avoid it.' Then we walked slowly in the garden, hand in hand, to have a last look at each rock, each tree, each flower. We sat for a while by the small pond which was a favorite place of my grandpa's. 'What do you see here, Tommy?' asked the old man. I looked at the water, not knowing what to say, and then replied, 'I see something soft and beautiful, Grandpa.' He pulled me close to him and said, 'It isn't the pond or the trees or the flowers that are beautiful. It is the special place in your heart that makes you feel so.' After a while, he continued, 'I built the pond, and planted the trees and the flowers a long time ago. I started to build this beautiful home the day my only son was born.' He stopped. After a long silence, he murmured(低声说), 'One day a terrible war came, and my son, like many other people's sons, went away to fight. Five months later, a telegram came, telling us that my son had passed away...' he couldn't finish his sentence. I saw tears trickle from his eyes. 'That afternoon I picked some roses from this place and put them in front of son's portrait (肖像), and said goodbye to him. You know who he was, Tommy?' 'My father?' I asked in a whisper, hoping my grandpa would say no. But he said, 'That's rights my dear. ' Ann in arm, we cried. Then the old man held me ups and said softly, 'My dear Tom, we axe going to move, but don't say good-bye to our old house, never.' Tom and his grandpa______ the old house.