To Grammy: 

This Thanksgiving, I gift you Portrait of a Woman with a Dog by Jean-Honoré Fragonard. Like this exquisitely-dressed woman and her little white pooch, you and Eliza are the perfect pair. She's your prized possession, and you hold her up, display her for all the world to see, just like the woman in this painting. 

In this painting, both the woman and her dog sport luxurious fabrics in opulent jewel tones. The two figures play off of one another. The woman's collar, striped sleeves, pearl necklaces, and drooping double chins form parallel diagonal lines pointing to her tiny white dog. The dog directs a facial expression somewhere between adoration and disdain towards the woman's face. She shoots the viewer a cheeky "side eye," with a mischievous smile nestled between two rosy cheeks.

Like this little white dog, Eliza is always looking to you for when to eat her dinner scraps, when to ascend onto the dining room table, when to stop her relentless circle running. And while you're always there to hold her, you also look to us, your family. With Eliza by your side, you regale us with a plethora stories, though they often repeat. Your days as a secretary, your "Fluffy the bunny" Sunday dinner, your road trip through Mexico. You've told us the good, the bad, the sad, and the ugly. 

I remember sitting on the edge of your bed rifling through your costume jewelry drawer with you and Eliza. You pulled out a string of pearls just like those in the painting and began to tell me exactly where they came from and offered them to me. So in exchange for everything you've given me, all the stories (no matter how often they're repeated), jewelry and shoes to serve as fodder for my dress-up, and all the love, I give you this painting. 

Best,

Francesca

Editor's Note: Students were asked to give a painting to someone they cared for. These are their moving responses.