I had a little grandmother.  As a girl, homesteading on the plains,she was one day home all alone when the native men came calling. They were known for killing the intruders on sight.  There was no where to run, the plains were FLAT, there was no lock on the front and only door, or window, so they came in! They crowded through the doorway and stepped in through the windows, just holes in the wall. She was terrified but luckily they were hungry. They milled around in the tiny space talking in their own tongue, and she didn’t know if they were planning a particularly terrible death for her or slavery. They ate her cooling pies and left.
She was still living when I was eight and I was as just as tall as her.  My little grandma was married to a man over six feet tall. Their fist home was a cave dug into a slight hillside with a few timbers closing off the front.  They eventually built a VERY small cabin.  When I was ten, you could see the small cabin collapsing in a field.
I wish I’d heard more stories and seen this woman in action. My book Leafman Attacks 2 A Plethora Of Monsters shows a grandma and her granddaughter trading their stories both at the same time. They talking over each other while they listen to each other weaving a great story. Find it at Amazon.com.  nancymauerman.com