PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The little girl steps out of the house and into the garden, hiding behind her mother’s flowery skirt. She peeks around shyly at all these wrinkled smiling faces looming over her. Why did her mother insisted on taking away her Poly Pocket and forcing a summer dress on her and painfully combing back her hair into two, tight, perfect pigtails is quite beyond her. She only knew that they have returned to this big red-bricked house by the duck lake Sunday after Sunday. One of the wrinkled faces extended a bony hand and she immediately cowered behind the shield that was her mother. Laughs ensued and the little girl’s cheeks flamed red. Suddenly she heard a trembling voice that said, “My darling, come over here, let me hug you.” Her grandmother! The girl turned around and flung herself to the big, fleshy pair of her grandmother’s arms and immediately fell at ease. Her grandmother’s chuckle was accompanied by the quiet laughs from the rest of the family. As her mother talked with her grandmother, the girl’s eyes were fixed on the string of shiny pearls that hung in two loops on her grandmother’s neck. Her small fingers itched to touch them, but were held back by a mantra repeated time and time again at her house: you mustn’t take what’s not yours. Her grandmother, sensing the child’s gaze, drew back and laughed. “Do you want me to lend you my necklace again?” She started taking it off but the girl heard her mother say, “Oh, that’s not necessary, she brought her own toys.” Her grandmother laughed and finished unwrapping the pears from her neck. “There’s no problem at all, I’m happy to lend it to her and she seems to like it.” The girl smiled at her new favorite person on the world as the necklace was draped over her head and shoulders. Her mother lifter her from her grandmother’s lap and laid her down on a chair. “Be careful with that necklace, ok? It’s your grandmother’s favorite; you mustn’t break it.” The girl nodded. She was always careful. The rest of the afternoon continued in comfortable bliss, the smell of grilled meat and laughers filled the air. Before long the sun was sinking low on the horizon and it was time for the girl to go. She picked her way carefully around the table, the precious necklace in her hands as she offered it back to its original owner. Her grandmother chuckled and took it. “What do you say?” Her mother asked behind her. “Thank you”, the girl answered. “You’re very welcome. Until next time.” As her father picked her up, the girl turned around and saw behind the closing doors the shine of the pearls gleaming in the afternoon dying sun.