So, here is my picture: I got it off of lovely Johanna's blog, An Old Fashioned Girl. I don't know who painted it, but I thought it was pretty. ;-) So, picture and story! (This is only part of the story)
“Mary! Mary where are you?”
“Here! Over by the flower bed.”
A tall, thin, and sprightly young woman came bounding around a bush to where her sister, Mary, was standing with a basket of flowers in one hand, and a handful of her skirts in the other.
“Clara, would you stop running around like a heathen? You should try to act decent every once in a while.” Though the tone was stern, a light danced in Mary’s eyes as she watched the restlessness of her younger sister.
“I am sorry, Mary. I will try not to run, only I just received a letter from Father! I wanted to show it to you.” Clara came closer to her sister with a spring in her step and shortness of breath from her excitement. “Look! Hand written by him, not one of his attendants.”
Mary seized the letter and stared at it longingly. She turned it over and fingered the seal, still unbroken. “You didn’t open it yet?” She inquired of the slight figure beside her.
“Of course not,” was the incredulous reply. “I wanted to share it with you first.”
Mary eyed it a bit longer, then handed it to Clara.
“Here, you read.” Mary gathered her skirts about her and sat down on the low stone wall that separated the little garden from the country beyond.
“Dearest daughters,” Clara began, after clearing her throat. “Your letters have been a great comfort to me in this time. I would have written sooner, but business has kept me from my fatherly duties. Pray, forgive me.
“I am doing well, and hope you are the same. Mary said you were both keeping busy in the garden this year. I am glad of it, for your mother dearly loved the little garden, in which you are no doubt sitting at this moment.” Clara paused and smiled at her sister.
“He knows us too well,” Mary commented.
Clara nodded and continued.
“Be sure to take care of the lilacs, for your mother loved them the best. I remember how many a time I would walk out in search of her, only to find her sitting on the wet grass underneath that lovely lilac, smelling the blooms. It was then that I had the little bench built for her to sit upon when the weather was good.
“If my business goes smoothly, I should be home in a fortnight. Though business may call me back, I will at least spend a holiday with two of the loveliest girls in England.
“May God protect you, yours etcetera.”
Clara folded the letter and pressed it to her heart. “A fortnight, Mary! Why, that is so soon. Oh, what shall we do?” Her blue eyes lit with joy as she pranced in a little circle.
“Calm down, Clara. It is a fortnight, and though we will have much to do, there is still plenty of time.” She smiled, though, as Clara stood still, though obviously wanting to run all around the garden with her joy.
“Oh, alright. Go and tell Hannah to get some soup for supper. Be quick!”
Clara lost no time and had disappeared around the bush before Mary had time to finish her sentence.
Smiling, Mary looked out over the river. It was so peaceful, so lovely. The twilight hours made it more magical, in a sense. The river babbled calmly along the banks, making little gurgling noises as it went. Blue birds were chirping from their perches, and the bees buzzed contentedly as they went from blossom to blossom, exchanging old pollen for new.
Father was coming home! Mary smiled again to herself. He hadn’t been home in 7, no 8, oh she had lost count of how many months he had been gone. Ever since mother died, he had been going on trips more frequently.
Standing and scooping up her basket, Mary made her way to the little cottage that they called their home. Her thoughts still on father, Mary hardly noticed the beauty of the evening like she usually did.
She was glad he would be coming home, but being away from him for so long would put an awkward strain on their relationship. It had happened before, and it could happen again. She dearly hoped that all would be the same, but she knew in her heart that it would not. Things had to change, and though she hated change, it was exciting in it’s own way. It brought new things to life, new people to meet, new things to explore. Yet, even with it’s glories, it brought sorrow, death, strife, and hardships.
Was it truly worth looking forward too? Mary paused with her hand on the handle of the cottage door. She smiled to herself as she heard Clara’s excited conversation with Hannah float through the windows.
Opening the door, she stepped over the threshold and turned to look out into the twilight covered world. Tonight she would forget about the hard part of change. Tonight, she would enjoy Clara’s incessant chatter, and cherish the moments around the fire, for each moment was more precious than the last, and each one passed as quickly as the blink of an eye.
So, what do ya think??? I need suggestions for a title please!!
Love,
Your aspiring authoress.. ;-) lol!
Sarah
