“They’re called bleeding hearts*, Sunny,” I replied to my daughter’s question.
So apropos to how I felt – heart shattered and scattered. Jim wanting a divorce.
But at 3, Sunny didn’t understand.
I scrounged around for kleenex in the bottom of my purse, not noticing Sunny slipping under the chain across the entryway beyond the flowers.
When I looked up, she was studying how to open the strangely configured door.
“Sunny – get back here,” I said, “That area is not for visitors.”
“But Mom, maybe that’s where they keep the flowers’ Band-Aids,” she protested, taking my outstretched hand.
* flower folk: not actually bleeding hearts, right?
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers, November 25, 2016; image: © CEayr
November 25, 2016 at 10:16 pm
So sweet…
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November 25, 2016 at 11:29 pm
: ) :
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November 25, 2016 at 7:38 am
If only! Delightful.
My story is called Sally’s Secret
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November 24, 2016 at 8:06 am
Wonderful and the voice of the child is spot on.
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November 25, 2016 at 11:27 pm
Thanks — I tried to think like a 3 year old! : ) :
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November 24, 2016 at 7:12 am
Aww, sweet and sad.
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November 25, 2016 at 11:26 pm
: ) :
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November 24, 2016 at 6:56 am
The innocence of kids – wouldn’t it be nice to go back to that? A band-aid to fix everything. Nicely done :-)
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November 25, 2016 at 11:26 pm
Yes, if we all could believe in Band-Aids, maybe we could fix the world!
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November 24, 2016 at 6:44 am
I love the idea of flower band aids. I have a feeling that Sunny will be the band aid for mum’s broken heart. (And no, doesn’t look like actual bleeding heart flowers). Lovely story. :)
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November 25, 2016 at 11:25 pm
I think Sunny has the kind of attitude to keep her mother together. A child’s perspective is so simple and direct. If only . . .
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November 24, 2016 at 6:14 am
Dear Lorraine,
There are some things that can’t be helped with a Band-Aid. Sweet story.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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November 25, 2016 at 11:23 pm
Thank you, Rochelle. I remember when it seemed like a Band-Aid was all you needed. Simple back then.
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