Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 3

 Happy Friday!

I bring you the final part of this month's story. I hope you enjoy it. Life has been busy. Not with large word counts, but with editing and figuring out things for my stories. I also got older this week, reached 50 miles for the Spring 100, worked on blog posts, and did other things. Life is never dull and slow. At least not enough to make  me bored.

 

Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 3

    Biddy nodded and let him pick her up.
    “Hannah, here’s your pocketbook,’ Bobby said, picking up the red item. “Your hands are bleeding, want me to carry it for you?”
    “Please, Bobby.” She limped a little as she and Bobby followed Rob and Biddy across the street to a white colonial style house. Once inside, Rob set Biddy down on a chair in the kitchen and grabbed a first-aid box from a cabinet.
    “We’ll get you cleaned up and band-aids on those scrapes in no time, Rob promised the little girl with a grin. “Did you know that when I was your age I was always getting scrapes and bumps and bruises? I did it so much that my mom made me learn all about first-aid so I could bandage myself up.”
    “Do you still get banged up?” Bobby asked.
    “Yep. I play football, and sometimes we aren’t too careful.”
    Biddy whimpered as her scraped hands and knees were washed and bandaged, but she didn’t cry. Hannah was proud of her.
    “There you are. You’ll be good as new in a few days.” He grinned. “And we’ll get you a new lollipop because I’m afraid the other one won’t taste very good with dirt on it.”
    “It would be yucky,” Biddy said, smiling through her tears.
    “Sure would. Next patient?” Rob set another chair and motioned for Hannah to sit.
    “I’ll be okay,” she said. “It’s just scrapes.”
    “Yep, and you might as well let me take care of them now. It’s harder to get any dirt out if you wait. Believe me, I know.”
    “He doesn’t hurt you much, Hannah,” Biddy said. “And see how nice he put the band-aids on?”
    Seeing there was nothing to do but accept, Hannah limped to the chair and sat down.
    “Scrape your knee too?” Rob asked, turning over one of her hands and preparing to wash the scrape.
    “No.” She flinched a little. “The string caught my ankle.”
    “Ouch.”
    Hannah looked away from her scrapes and found Bobby feeding his sister another gumdrop. It was sweet and reminded her of the ants working together. Bobby was doing his part to make his sister smile again. But it also reminded Hannah that they would have to walk all the way back to the candy store and get another lollipop for Biddy. Only– And here she gave a start.
    “Sorry.” Rob looked up in sympathy. “This scrape is a little deeper and you have some dirt in it.”
    “Hannah,” Bobby said, before Hannah could reply, “Can Biddy and me go look out the window? I want to see if the boys who tied the string are there looking for it.”
    “Sure,” Rob answered for her. “But if you see them, don’t go out. They aren’t always very kind.”
    “We won’t. Come on, Biddy.”
    Hannah watched the two of them walk slowly from the kitchen and into the living room.
    “Siblings?” Rob asked.
    She shook her head. “Cousins. Spending a few weeks with us.”
    “Sounds fun. Other hand.”
    With a sigh, Hannah surrendered her other scraped hand to be cleaned and bandaged. “It’s supposed to be fun, but these weren’t exactly the birthday memories I was hoping for when we went to the candy shop.”
    “They share a birthday? Twins?”
    “A year apart.”
    “I don’t have any cousins younger than me. I’m the caboose of the family, as my grandpa likes to call me.” Rob didn’t seem to mind being the youngest. “All my brothers and sisters are older and in college or married. There, this hand is done. It wasn’t scraped badly. Now let’s see what the string did to your ankle.”
    “You don’t have to, Rob.”
    “Oh, I know, but I rather like pretending to be a doctor. I haven’t decided if that’s what I want to be yet, or if I’d rather play football in college.” He looked up and winked before gently folding down her sock. “Well, that string certainly left its mark on you! You’ll have a nice bruise and it’s probably going to be painful to walk for a few hours at least. Here, I’ll put something on it and wrap a light bandage over that.” As he talked, he worked, and soon a snug bandage covered the red mark left by the string. Sitting back on his heels he looked up at her. “Feel any better?”
    She nodded. “Thank you. We should be going now.”
    “Why don’t I drive you home in the car?”
    “Oh, I don’t want to be more of a bother. We can walk.”
    “Not very well you can’t.” Rob stood up and shut the first-aid box before going to the sink to wash his hands. “You should rest that ankle, and Biddy–isn’t that her name?–isn’t going to feel like walking much with her scraped knees.”
    What he said was true, Hannah realized when she stood and tried to walk. Her ankle throbbed and her hands still smarted. “All right.”
    Everyone was soon in the car and Rob was heading toward Main Street. When he pulled to a stop before the candy store, he said, “I’ll be right back with that new lollipop, Biddy.”
    Hannah opened her mouth to say something, but he was gone before she could.
    Soon he returned with not one, but two giant lollipops. One yellow, which he handed back to Biddy, and the other red, which he handed to Hannah. “I thought you should have one too. And this one matched your dress.” He smiled as he handed it over.
    “Thank you,” Hannah whispered, an echoing smile on her own face.
    Rob whistled the rest of the drive, but when he stopped before Hannah’s house and the younger two had climbed out, he shook his head over the quarter Hannah tried to give him. “Your lollipop was a gift, and the Janas boys will pay me for the other one since they are the ones responsible for the demise of the first one.”
    Clutching her pocketbook and her red lollipop, Hannah slid from the car. “Thanks, Rob. For everything.”
    “Any time.” With a grin and a wave, Rob drove off, and Hannah walked to the house not noticing her limp or her smarting hands. 

 

Would you rather have a slow week or a crazy one?

What kind of candy would you want to get?

Can you believe it's almost May?

Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 2

 Here's the next part of the story.

 

 

Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 2

    “Oh, I’ll tell you after you’ve looked around and picked what you want, little lady.” He winked at Hannah and straightened. “Don’t want to influence this important decision.”
    Hannah watched with a happy smile as her cousins wandered the store in a sugar daze. They stopped at each barrel, each box, each different kind and flavor and color of candy. They whispered, and Bobby pointed to the little prices on each thing.
    “You might be here a while,” Hannah,” Mr. Donald remarked in a low voice.
    “That’s all right. It’s not as much fun if you don’t get to examine every single thing and figure out what you want. If you just grab the first thing or even the third, then you’ll be left wondering what you might have missed. I don’t have anything else to do today, so let them wander. Besides,” she looked over to find the children at the far end of the store studying the boxes of chocolates, “it’s their first birthday away from their parents, so it should be extra special.”
    “That’s so. How old are they? They don’t look like twins.”
    “They aren’t. Bobby is seven and Biddy a year younger.”
    The older man nodded.
    It was more than twenty minutes before Bobby had made up his mind and picked a quarter’s worth of gumdrops. But Biddy couldn’t decide until her eyes suddenly landed on the giant lollipops sitting on the counter. She leaned closer, her eyes widening. There were purple, yellow, orange, and red ones.
    “Hannah,” the small girl whispered in an awed voice, “how much are these?” Her eyes never left the large pieces of candy.
    “Twenty-five cents.”
    “Can I have a yellow one? Please.”
    “Of course!” And Hannah opened her pocket book and pulled out two quarters.
    Mr. Donald handed a large yellow lollipop to Biddy and said, “These are what Hannah finally decided on too.”
    “You did?” Biddy’s eyes were wide.
    “Yes. Only I picked red.” She handed over the quarters, and the children clutched their candy tightly in one hand as they waved goodbye with the other. “Thank you, Mr. Donald.”
    Out in the bright sunshine, Bobby asked if he could begin to eat his candy now.
    “Yes,” Hannah said, “you may eat some of it now. Just don’t make yourself sick.”
    “I won’t.”
    Biddy patted Hannah’s arm to get her attention. “Hannah, how can I eat any of my lollipop?”
    “Why, just put the wrapper back on it when you are done.”
    Much pleased with this piece of advice, Biddy was soon licking her treat.
    “Now, do you want to walk right straight home, or shall we go a different way?”
    “A different way,” the children begged.
    “Can we go that way?” And Bobby pointed.
    Hannah agreed and they started off. She was well pleased by her little sacrifice of half a dollar and determined that her small cousins should fully enjoy their visit.
    They were in another neighborhood where large trees shaded the sidewalks, and houses looked pleasant and inviting. Looking back to see what had become of Bobby, Hannah stopped. “What did you find, Bobby?”
    He was crouched on the sidewalk watching something intently. “Some ants carrying a crumb to their home. Come see them, Hannah!”
    A quick glance showed Biddy plodding on up the sidewalk happily licking her lollipop. Knowing that Biddy did not enjoy insects like Bobby did, Hannah let her keep walking as she hurried back to look at the ants. It was indeed impressive watching the tiny ants working together to carry and drag a crumb many times larger than them, to their home.
    “God made them really strong, didn’t He, Hannah?”
    “He certainly did. And see how they help each other, Bobby?” Hannah pointed. “They don’t leave everything to just one ant.”
    A sudden scream followed by a loud wail jerked Hannah’s head up. “Biddy!” Forgetting all about the ants she jumped to her feet and flew up the sidewalk toward the girl who lay sprawled on the walk. But just before she reached her, she tripped on something that seemed to bite into her ankle and fell almost on top of her cousin. Her hands met the sidewalk and slid as she tried to catch herself.
    “Hannah!” Bobby’s voice shouted.
    “What happened?” A new voice, one that Hannah heard every day in school, called from across the street. “Is everyone all right?”
    Pushing herself up, Hannah barely looked at the boy who had joined them. “Bobby, don’t trip on that string!”
    Bobby stopped short and then stepped over the string which was stretched across the walk in such a way as to trip people. “Who puts strings across a sidewalk?” he demanded.
    Not bothering to answer, Hannah was kneeling beside Biddy. “Come on, Biddy, where are you hurt?”
    “Let me help her.”
    “Thank you, Rob.”
    Rob picked Biddy up and seated her in the grass. “Let’s see, you’ve scraped your hands and your knees, but not your nose.”
    “Where’s my lollipop?” Biddy whimpered, trying not to cry.
    Hannah looked around, but it was Bobby who found it, cracked, dusty, and broken in a patch of dirt.
    The loss of her treasured candy was more than Biddy to take, and her whimpers turned to sobs.
    “Oh, Biddy, please don’t cry,” Hannah begged, nearly in tears herself. “We’ll get you another one.”
    “I’ll share my candy with you, Biddy,” Bobby promised. “Here, open your mouth.”
    Rob looked up at Hannah. “How are you?”
    “I’ll be all right.”
    “I didn’t ask how you will be, I asked how you are.” Then, not waiting for her to say anything, he added, pulling out his pocket knife. “Those Jonas boys have gone too far.” He cut the string and pocketed it. “Come on, over to the house. We’ll get you both bandaged up and on your way again.” He knelt down beside Biddy, who was whimpering now from the pain. “Hi, I’m Rob. I go to school with Hannah. How about I carry you across the street to my house and we put some band-aids on those scrapes?”

Trip to the Candy Shop - Part 1

 Happy April!

Here's a new story for you. It's 3 parts long and I won't tell you what my editor said about it. :P Enjoy it or not.

 

 

The Trip to the Candy Shop

Part 1

    “Are we really and truly going to the candy store, Hannah? Really and truly?” Biddy, in her green and white gingham dress, clutched her cousin’s hand eagerly.
    Hannah laughed. “Yes, really and truly. Since it’s your birthday, you get to pick out a treat.”
    “And Bobby too?”
    “Of course! It wouldn’t be fair to leave Bobby out since it’s his birthday too.”
    “But he’s older than me.” Biddy gave a skip, and her brown braids, tied with yellow ribbon, bounced.
    “Where is Bobby?” Fifteen-year-old Hannah looked around for her younger cousin. “Why don’t you go find him, Biddy, while I get my pocketbook.”
    With a promise to be back soon, Biddy dashed away, and Hannah went to her room. She checked the mirror and made sure her red bow in her hair wasn’t falling out. She couldn’t help smiling at her dress. She loved red, and the white lace collar and the lace on the sleeves and pockets were her delight. Picking up her pocketbook and making sure it held the money needed for a trip to the candy store, she left her room and then sighed as the bow on the back of her dress caught on the doorknob and came untied.
    “Oh, Mother,” she said, hurrying into bedroom where Mother was putting away some laundry, “won’t you please tie my bow again? It got caught on the door.”
    “Of course. Are you going somewhere?”
    “To take Biddy and Bobby to the candy store. Remember?”
    “Oh, yes. I had forgotten you were going to do that today. It will make their day special since they can’t be at home for their birthday. Perhaps I’ll get a cake baked for them while you’re gone.”
    “Oh, Mother, what a nice surprise that would be! They’d love it, I know.” And Hannah turned and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll let them take as much time as they want picking out their candy. And maybe we’ll walk a different way home to give you more time.”
    Mother laughed and nodded. “All right. I’ll start as soon as you are safely away. Now you’d better go. I hear Biddy calling for you.”
    Hannah, pleased that Mother was getting into the spirit of making their young guests’ birthday special, hurried way, happy to do her part. “Do you have a clean shirt on, Bobby?”
    “Why do I need a clean shirt? This one isn’t dirty.” Bobby eyed his blue and white striped shirt carelessly. “We’re just going to the candy store.”
    “But you want to look nice, Bobby,” Biddy said. “Hannah and I look nice. And it’s your birthday.”
    Bobby ran his fingers through his wavy hair and snorted. “You’re girls. And if it’s my birthday, why can’t I dress as I want?”
    Fighting back the desire to laugh, Hannah motioned her cousins toward the door. “I think Bobby’s shirt is clean enough. I didn’t see any grass stains or dirt on it. Goodbye, Mother,” she called.
    Mother came to the hall. “Bye. Have a nice time.”
    The summer sunshine was bright and warm. For a time Biddy held Hannah’s hand while Bobby walked on ahead. It was fun, Hannah thought, to have two cousins to mother and play with for a time. Biddy was six and Bobby seven, and they had come to spend a few weeks at their aunt and uncle’s while their parents took a trip. Hannah didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and this new, though temporary, addition to the household was quite charming.
    “Hannah, which way now?” Bobby called from the street corner.
    “We have to cross the street and keep going straight another block, but wait for us, Bobby!”
    Hopping from one foot to another impatiently, Bobby waited. “I can cross the street myself,” he told Hannah as they crossed together. “I know how to look for cars, and there wasn’t a single car on this street.”
    “I’m sure you can,” Hannah replied with a smile, “but I didn’t want you to get too far ahead of us.”
    Mollified that he wasn’t considered a baby, Bobby slowed his pace a little and let the girls keep up with him.
    “Do you know what you are going to pick at the candy store?” Hannah asked as they neared their destination.
    “I want to see what they have,” Bobby said.
    “Me too,” Biddy agreed.
    “It might be hard to pick,” Hannah laughed. “But you can both spend twenty-five cents.”
    “On any candy?” Biddy’s eyes were large.
    “On any candy.”
    A little bell jingled as Bobby opened the door. He held it open for his sister and for Hannah who thanked him with a smile as she passed through.
    Collective gasps of amazement came from both children as their eyes traveled around the small shop where barrels and boxes, display cases and shelves held nothing but candy, candy, and more candy. There were boxes of chocolates, barrels of small candies to suck on, each onew wrapped in a little plastic wrapper. Taffy of all colors and flavors, chocolate bars, and chocolate bears, chewing gum, and chewy candies, little cakes and packaged cookies, lollipops and gumdrops. All there just waiting to be taken home and eaten until you had a belly ache.
    “Good afternoon, Hannah.”
    “Hi, Mr. Donald. These are my cousins, Bobby and Biddy. Today’s their birthday, so I brought them here to spend a birthday quarter each.”
    The older man, his hair, what little he had left, was white, and his blue eyes beamed from behind his glasses. Leaning on the counter he addressed the two wide eyed children. “Happy birthday. Did you two know that your cousin used to come in here on her birthday and get candy?”
    “Hannah did?” Bobby turned and looked at his cousin skeptically. “Was she ever as little as Biddy?”
    Mr. Donald gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, yes. She most certainly was. And every year she’d look and look and look at all the candy, but every year she always picked the same thing.”
    “What?” Biddy’s voice was hushed in awe.

Have you ever gotten to pick out candy for your birthday?

Did you get to watch the eclipse?

Do you plan to come back and read Part 2 of this story?

Bless Her Heart

 Good morning!

Happy March! Today I have a story that NONE of you have read. This story was just something I sat down and wrote. I had the first line in my head and then sort of knew the ending, but I wasn't sure what happened. It's not a long story. And no, I didn't ask any of my Southern friends for help with the accents, so if I didn't get them write, blame me. :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little piece.

 

Bless Her Heart

    “Ya’ll gottta do somethin’ with him, honey. He ain’t like other boys.”
    Mrs. Thornton smiled at Mrs. Holland’s well meaning words as she looked over at Jared. She was right. Jared wasn’t like other boys his age. He was hurt, angry, afraid.
    “My husband says,” Mrs. Angelina added, her southern accent just as strong as Mrs. Holland’s, “what that boy needs is a strong hand and a good lickin’. Of course, we ain’t blamin’ ya’ll, honey.  Why bless yer heart! We know you ain’t got the strength ta do it, you bein’ such a little thing yerself, and your husband bein’ out a town. Someone’s got ta take that boy in hand though. My husband said he don’t like mixin’ in other folks business, but under the circumstances, ya’ll understand, he’d come over any time and tend to the boy. Ya’ll jest give him a call, honey.”
    Mrs. Thornton opened her mouth but was given no chance to reply.
    “Now don’t you go an’ thank me,” Mrs. Angelina went on. “It’s the least we can do after ya’ll took in that poor orphan. Why bless your heart!”
    “And,” Mrs. Holland added, “if her Robert ain’t around when ya’ll need him, honey, my Albin won’t mind bein’ called. He knows all about boys. We had two of ‘em. Big, strong, strappin’ fellows they are too. Albin may be retired, ya’ll know, but I reckon he could still handle a boy like that one, bless his heart.” Mrs. Holland nodded in Jared’s direction.
    It was all Mrs. Thornton could do to keep her face and voice calm. “Thank you both, but I won’t be calling on your husbands for such service. Now if you’ll excuse me please, I think it’s time Jared and I headed home.”
    Both ladies murmured polite good-byes, but Mrs. Thornton heard one of them say to the other as she walked away, “Bless her heart, she doesn’t know how to deal with a boy like him.”
    “I know. Bless her heart.”
    “Lord, I didn’t know I’d need so much patience just for a visit to the park.” Mrs. Thornton gave an inward sigh and walked over to where Jared was standing sullenly by the swing set staring at the ground. Gently she brushed his shoulder with her hand. “Let’s walk home along the path by the stream, shall we?”
    Without a word, the boy turned and shuffled off beside her, his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets.
    Jared hadn’t always been like this, Marissa Thornton remembered. No, her nephew used to be a happy baby and a bright toddler. Then he lost his mother, and his father turned to drink to ease his pain, instead of to the Lord. This had wrecked the happy home the boy had lived in, and he faced hunger, cold, and his father’s quick temper. As Jared’s only living relatives, the Thorntons had opened their home to the boy when his own father had ended up dead. They were determined to show him a home filled with Christ’s love.
    It wasn’t easy. Jared often lashed out in anger when he didn’t understand or felt threatened, but never once had his new family lifted a hand against him or raised a voice in anger. Noah and Mariah prayed and loved and prayed some more. No one else seemed to understand what the boy had been through. They offered well meaning advice, but Mariah knew the scars that Jared bore were not just on his body, but on his heart as well.
    Walking along the path, Mariah was silent. Her heart was angered over the women’s comments and aching for some sign of love from the boy she now called her son.
    “Jared, look!” she whispered, leaning closer to him and pointing.
    Down by the creek a mother deer stood with her fawn. Neither acted afraid or even nervous at being watched by the silent humans on the path near them. They drank from the trickling water and then picked their way back into the woods and disappeared.
    “They weren’t afraid of us,” Mariah breathed.
    Jared looked up. “You wouldn’t hurt them.” The words were a statement, casual and calm. Then Jared did something he’d never done since he had come to live with his aunt and uncle. He slipped his hand into Mariah’s.
    Tears blurred Mariah’s vision as she gave the hand a gentle squeeze.
    Neither one said a word the rest of the way home.

*

    “Mama.”
    The quiet voice roused Mariah Thornton from her dreams. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the tall manly form sitting beside her bed. “Jared. What are you doing here?”
    His gentle fingers rested on her wrist a moment. “How are you feeling, Mama? Dad said you weren’t well.”
    “I’m all right, son. I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I ate too many of my granddaughter’s cookies.” Her eyes held mirth. “And then I got to remembering and fell asleep.”
    Jared’s hand held her old, wrinkled one. “Remembering what?”
    “Many years ago. It must have been a few months after you came to us. We had gone to the park. Dad was out of town. We saw the deer when we walked home.”
    “I remember that day.”
    “You do?” Mariah turned surprised eyes to the man sitting near her.
    “Yes. I overheard what those ladies were telling you.”
    “Oh, Jared!”
    “And,” he went on, his thumb gently rubbing her hand, “I heard what you told them. It was the first time that I felt sure I was safe. Thank you, Mama.”
    “For what?”
    “For taking me in. For seeing behind my anger to the hurt little boy that I was, and loving me. You and Dad never gave up on me. You prayed and hoped and believed, and most of all, you showed me Christ. For that I can never thank you enough.”
    Mrs. Thornton raised a hand to her son’s face. “Oh, Jared, I thank God every day for you and for your sweet and lovely wife, and for the grandchildren who brighten my days.” She started to sit up. “Now, it’s time I got up out of this bed.”
    “Not yet, Mama,” Jared said, a smile on his lips but a firm look in his eyes as he eased her back. “Dad was talking about taking you to the hospital, but he agreed to let me look at you first. You have him worried.”
    Mrs. Thornton smiled. “Dad’s always worrying over me, son.” Her eyes began to twinkle. “Or maybe he just uses it as an excuse for you to put in practice all those things you learned in medical school. Well, you needn’t bother. I’m just fine now. Just the sight of your face and the feel of your hand slipping into mine like it did so many years ago makes me feel better.”
    Jared smiled, kissed her cheek, and said, “Nevertheless . . .”

Did you enjoy this story?

Has anyone ever given you advice you didn't want?

How did you handle it?

Roses for Minnie

 

 

Roses for Minnie


Dedication
To Angie’s niece who wanted a story for her red fish.

    Four-year-old Minnie sat in dismal heap at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t want to play with Ronnie when he started to build a farm for their toy animals. She wasn’t interested in listening to Lacey reading stories to little Willow. She wasn’t even interested in helping Mom make muffins for supper.
    Daddy paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at the forlorn little heap. He wondered what was making his little girl so sad. “What’s the matter, Minnie Joy?”
    “Oh, Daddy, I want one too, but Uncle Dale said it might die over here.”
    Daddy sat down on the stairs and patted the step beside him. “Come tell me all about it.”
    With a sigh, Minnie got up and sat down beside Daddy. She leaned against him and thought he was the nicest Daddy ever. He listened to her troubles. Her friend Jaina said her daddy was too busy.
    “What has Uncle Dale got that you want?”
    “A fish, Daddy. A beautiful red fish that swims in the water. Uncle Dale has one and he showed it to me. But he said I couldn’t hold it. I would have been very careful.”
    Daddy gave a little cough. “Fish can’t live out of water, Minnie,” he explained. “They die if they can’t be in water. That’s how they breath. God made fish to breath in water and people and other animals to breath air.”
    A little frown puckered Minnie’s forehead. “I could hold him in the water then, couldn’t I?”
    “Probably not. They have to swim and would get scared if you held them still. They aren’t like kittens or puppies.”
    “But I would be gentle and wouldn’t let Willow or even Robbie hold him. Can’t I have a fish, Daddy? A red one like Uncle Dale’s?”
    Daddy shook his head slowly. “Fish have to be fed, and their tanks have to be cleaned out just right or they will get sick. And we don’t have any place to keep a fish that wouldn’t be in danger of getting knocked over. No, Minnie, I’m sorry but I don’t think a real fish would be good. But--” He looked down at the sad face of his little girl. “Perhaps you can still have a fish.”
    “A red one, Daddy? With two tails?”
    “Two tails?”
    “Yes! Uncle Dale’s fish has two tails.” Minnie looked up into her daddy’s face. “What kind of fish could I have? Would it have to live in water? Could I take it to show Grandma?”
    “Hang on just a minute.” Daddy pulled his phone out and send a message on it. “This kind of fish I’m think about,” he said as he rested his phone on his knee, “is the kind of fish you could take to Grandma’s, you wouldn’t have to feed it or let it live in water. You could name it and--”
    “Could I tell it stories, Daddy? Would it listen to me tell it stories?”
    “Yes, Minnie, you could tell it stories.” Daddy’s phone buzzed and Daddy picked it up, looked at the screen and then typed something on it. He stood up. “All right, Minnie Joy, do you want to wait there while I make your fish, or do you want to come watch me?”
    Minnie’s eyes grew wide. Daddy was going to make her a fish? “I want to watch!”
    She scrambled to her feet and seized her daddy’s hand. Together they went up stairs to his office.
    Daddy got out a nice, white sheet of paper. It wasn’t just one from the printer like Mommy sometimes gave Minnie and Ronnie to use. This was a from a package in Daddy’s desk. Then Daddy got out a black marker and a red one from his special set that he used for making pictures for people who wrote books.
    Minnie’s eyes grew wider.
    Daddy sat down at his desk. “Hmm. A red fish with two tails.” He looked at his phone again, and this time Minnie saw a picture of Uncle Dale’s fish.
    Was Daddy going to make a fish like that? For her?
    A few quick lines with the black marker, and then some quick but careful lines with the red and there it was! A red fish with two tails just like Uncle Dale’s! Only this one was for her! It didn’t have to live in the water! She didn’t have to feed it, and she could hold it!
    “What do you think, Minnie?” Daddy held up the picture. “Do you think that would be a good fish to have?”
    “Oh, yes, Daddy! Is he for me? For my very, very own? Can I name him?”
    “Yes, Minnie, he’s yours. And I think he needs a name.” Daddy handed Minnie the picture.
    For several seconds Minnie just gazed in wonder at the fish that was all hers. What would she name it? It had to be a good name. Her forehead wrinkled a little as she thought hard.
    Daddy put his markers away. “Did you think of a name yet?”
    Minnie nodded slowly, her eyes still on the picture. “I think his name should be Roses.”
    “Roses?” Daddy blinked. “Why that name?”
    “Because, he’s the same color of the roses you got Mommy and she loved them as much as I love my fish! Oh, thank you, Daddy!” She flung her arms around her daddy’s legs because she couldn’t reach any higher, and hugged him. “Thank you for making Roses for me. We’re going to be best of friends!”
    And they were. Roses went everywhere with Minnie for several years. She told her secrets to Roses, and sang to him. She shared him with Willow, and carefully placed him on her dresser each night at bedtime. And even though the paper grew some was dirty and torn around the edges, Minnie still loved the fish. When she grew older, she tucked him into a safe place where he wouldn’t get lost and many, many years later, she found him again, and smiled at the memory of her Daddy making a special fish just for her because he loved her.

The End

What would you name a fish?

Have you ever had a pet fish?

The Argument

 

 

Argument

    “Why is it always you?” Annie glared at her cousin.
    “Why not me? Would you rather have it be some nefarious person who wants to steal your gold and silver, eat all your cookies, and run away with your mink coat?”
    Annie rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a mink coat. I don’t have any gold and silver in this apartment, and there won’t be any cookies for him to eat because you’ll eat them all.”
    Harrison grinned and picked up another cookie. “That’s because Beth can’t make cookies like you. Don’t you want to teach her how?”
    “I tried.”
    “But not for days and days.”
    “Harrison,” Annie put a hand on her hip and looked at her cousin as though he was some little boy caught in mischief. “I spent a week with Beth. I tried to teach her to cook, to bake cookies, to do more than eat cereal, cook frozen pizzas in the microwave, and eat ice cream out of the carton. It didn’t do any good.”
    “Maybe you didn’t try hard enough.” He reached for another cookie. “Or maybe she wasn’t desperate enough.”
    “Or maybe she just doesn’t want to learn. Really, Harrison. If you want good cooking, maybe you should learn to do it yourself, or find somewhere else to live.”
    “But Beth’s my sister.”
    “I know. And you’re my cousin. And so is Beth. But I don’t have the money or patience to keep feeding you, Harrison! This is the third time this week you’ve appeared at my door, come in and started eating my food.”
    Harrison reached into his pocket pulled out some money and slapped it down on the counter. “I’ll hire you.”
    “Do do what?” Annie’s voice dripped with suspicion.
    “Cook for us.”
    “Cook for you?”
    “Yes. Come on, Annie. It’s not like that part time job you have makes you a lot of money or takes up all your time. And if you are making food for yourself anyway, why not make a little extra for us?”
    “A little extra? Do you know how much you eat? And what will Beth say to that idea?”
    Harrison shrugged. “She won’t care if she doesn't have to cook.”
    “I’m not washing your dishes.”
    “We can do that. Beth may not like it, but she can at least wash them. That doesn’t require any concentration, and she can dream of the next picture she is going to paint.”
    Annie shook her head. “Really, Harrison, isn’t she ever going to do something that earns some money? She’s been dabbling in painting for close to two years now. Has she ever sold anything?”
    “Only to me and a few friends.” He shrugged. “She likes to paint, and I don’t mind. I make enough for both of us.”
    “Yeah, but what happens to her if you lose your job?”
    “I’ll get another one.”
    “What if you die?” Annie had been longing to say some plain truths to this happy-go-lucky cousin of hers for months, and she suddenly felt like now was the time.
    “I have a life insurance policy.”
    Annie rolled her eyes. It was clearly going to take more work to open his eyes. She leaned on the other side of the island and looked him square in the eye. “And what if you get married and your wife doesn’t like a fee loader living with you?”
    “She’s not a free-loader!”
    “Oh?” Annie’s eyebrows rose. “Just what does she do? She doesn’t cook. She doesn’t clean the house. I know because I’ve been there and done it for you. She doesn’t wash the dishes. Does she do the laundry? Take care of the garden? Manage the bills and finances?” With each question she watched her cousin shake his head just a little. “Then what does she do? Tell me.”
    He shrugged. “She’s . . . she’s a companion.”
    “Ha!” Annie pushed back from the island and straightened. “Elizabeth Hand is no more a companion than I am a. . . . a . . . bank president! Does she read to you?”
    “No. I sometimes read to her.”
    “Uh huh. Does she converse at breakfast? Dinner?”
    Harrison looked puzzled. “We just eat. Why should we talk?”
    “Harrison, listen to me.”
    “I am listening, Annie, but I don’t understand what you want me to listen to.”
    “Just be quiet and listen!”
    Harrison folded his arms on the counter and focused his whole attention on Annie.
    “You just admitted that Beth does nothing to help with anything about the house, doesn’t do anything a companion would do, and doesn’t make any money to contribute to the expenses of the house. No,” she put in quickly, lifting her hand as her cousin was about to speak. “I’m not done. If you were to get married, she would either have to live with you, and your wife would have to put up with someone who didn’t do one bit of work around the house but only made more work. Or, what if someone wanted to marry Beth?”
    “That would be great!”
    “Would it?” Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She couldn’t cook for her husband, clean his house, do his laundry, take care of the bills, mow the yard. or even be very companionable. How long do you think that marriage would last?”
    “Well--”
    “Do you think that you are helping her, Harrison? Helping her be a godly woman? A woman who looks well to the ways of her household? A woman who could love her husband, love her children, and be a keeper at home? And if she did get married, and her husband was an incredibly unselfish man who was willing to do all the work at home and his own work, and if they had children, do you think Beth would be able to take care of them? Has she ever babysat? Held a baby? And what about feeding them, cleaning up after them, doing their laundry, keeping the house clean so someone doesn’t call Child Protective Services on them? Could she do it?”
    “Oh, she could.”
    “Would she even know how?”
    “I was going to pay you to teach her.”
    “No you weren’t. You were going to pay me to cook for you. Yes, you were going to insist that she wash the dishes, though I have a feeling that you’d do them because she would be busy painting again, but that’s not the same as her learning.”
    “But she’s my sister, and I’m supposed to love her.”
    “Is it loving to let her remain a selfish, spoiled, self-seeking, ignorant person?”
    “That’s not very nice, Annie.”
    “Truth isn’t always nice, Harrison. I’ve watched and prayed that you would wake up and see what is going on and how Beth has manipulated you into letting her do whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and however she wants, but you just wouldn’t open your eyes. I will cook for you on one condition.”
    “What’s that?”
    “That you start acting like an older brother who cares more about his little sister’s spiritual well being than you do about making life a bed of thornless roses for her.”
    “Ouch.”
    Annie didn’t reply but stood and watched him.
    For several minutes, Harrison sat and stared at the counter. His fingers pushed a few cookie crumbs around, and he frowned, sighed, frowned again, and finally looked up. “You’re right. I hate to admit it, but you are. And I’ll agree to it because I realize that you are right. Thank you for saying something.”
    “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I had to be so harsh.”
    “It was necessary.” He stood up. “I’m hard headed.”
    “You sure are.”

What did you think?

Have you ever wanted to tell someone some plain, hard truths?

Do you enjoy conversations in books?

To All People - Part 3

 Happy Christmas Eve!

    Here's the final part of the Christmas play story. I hope you enjoy it. The final line was from the one who played Tiny. He just said it on our last practice and we loved it so much we told him to say it for the performance. He did and the laughter from the audience was great!

To All People - Part 3

            Before the sun was fully up on Christmas Morning, Tiny came into town with a beautiful Christmas tree. Mrs. Crawford and Kate brought strands of popped corn, and Mr. Kockenbrock arrived with a star he had fashioned out of wood. Deputy Moreland and his wife appeared bringing some cookies to hang on the tree. And then, one by one, the other town-folk arrived.

            Sheriff Kassen opened his Bible and began to read. “And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.” He handed the Bible to Mrs. Stokes.

            “And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.” As she read, Mrs. Nelson handed Baby to Kate, and with Charlie standing with a stick in his hand as Joseph, they presented a lovely picture of that first Christmas. “And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” She handed the Bible to Mrs. Crawford.

            “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.” With a smile at Tiny, she handed the Bible to him.

            “And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” Wiping away a tear, the rough looking mountain man passed the Book to Mrs. Moreland.

            “And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

            Deputy Moreland took the Bible and finished the story. “And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.” Gently he closed the Book.

            For a moment no one moved. Then Tiny said slowly, “I thank ya folks fer lettin’ me be a part a this here Christmas service. I ain’t celebrated Christmas with other folks for nigh on to twenty years, an’ its done my heart right good ta do it this year.”

            “We’re glad you came and joined us,” Mrs. Crawford said.

            Mrs. Nelson took back her baby, and Kate rejoined her mother.

            Sheriff Kassen held out his hand to the man who had been a stranger. “Many of us had doubts about you, but our Lord offered His salvation to everyone, and we are not above our Lord. You are welcome to join us any Christmas.”

            Mr. Kockenbrock nodded. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Mrs. Fisher, will you have those flapjacks soon?”

            With a smile, Mrs. Fisher nodded. “How about right now and everyone is invited.”

            There were many smiles and Christmas greetings as the town folk began to make their way toward the boarding house taking time to stop and greet the mountain man who was no longer someone to be afraid of.

            As Tiny shook hands with Mr. Kockenbrock, he tipped his head and asked, “What’s a flapjack?”

 

And there you are.

Did you enjoy it?

Maybe I'll share a few other short stories soon.

Once I wrote and shared at KDWC.