I own all Characters and Ideas in this story

This Glowing Path

By Kathleen Abaestian

This path, it's roof the trees an archway at the end, leads to a small village. In that village a white farmhouse with blue shudders stands. The garden sprawling around it calls every person who loves beauty to come quietly and relax. In this house a woman who's eyes are the color of sea mist, stands at a window. She's waiting. No one knows what for but she stands tall and erect never wavering in her devotion to what she waits for. Skipping out into the garden a young girl not more then three, pauses to smell a fairy like flower. She stops and stands. Because she is drawn to that trail, the one with the ceiling of leaves that glows green, and the pretty purple flowers Mommy loves. Innocently the child skips through the town. The store clerks tip their hats to her. Her golden brown curls are the envy of many a young girl. The embroidered dress the she wears shows the love of a mother. Yet it puzzles the other mothers of the town as to why the little girl is alone. Beside the baker a worried mother buying bread orders her teenage son to go follow the child.

He runs out into the street, which is crowded. The little child his mother told him to follow is fast! He sprints up the hill out of town following the curls bouncing, just tall enough to be seen over the waving grass. The child stops a moment to pick some fluffy white flowers. The boy has now caught up. But the girl continues onto the trail that had called her from the garden at home. Down the trail she treds, her Mary Janes not making a sound on the soft carpet of leaves, the flowers brush her ankles, on and on she travels. Surely she wouldn't go much farther. Yet still the boy following her started to worry. Slipping up behind her and just as he's about to speak the girl turns. Her lips open in a small uncertain smile. This tall, famer's son had surprised her. Yet she wasn't afraid. Her innocence of the world shone through her deep blue eyes. The boy walked forward took her small childish hand and led her back, back towards the town. His mother smiled at her son and nodded appreciatively. Against his mother's leg her basket bumped. The boy stared in surprise it wasn't even half full. Because, he'd assumed they'd been gone a very long time. It must something about the tall grass and green roof made time unnoticeable. He released the child's chubby hand. Home she ran.

The farmhouse garden came into view. At the window the beautiful lady still stood, still waiting. Running past the gate, the child scurried to the picnic blanket, which lay in the garden and curled up. Because she was so sleepy in moments the steady soft breathing began. She was asleep. At the window the queen like figure called to a servant to bring her a chair. Quietly a servant brought the chair never once suspecting that these were the last moments of her mistress. The lady sat down. Her back strait she stared out the window. "You've come for me," She whispered the sound blew through the quiet room. With that, her eyes closed for the last time. Her figure stayed erect for one moment then slumped in the realization that The Lady's spirit had officially taken leave to a much better place. Among the flowers the pretty child awoke. Something was wrong. Into the house she ran. When she saw her mother no cry escaped. The servant came into the room at the sound of the door. The servant's cry echoed through the house. The child went to her and her sweet no longer completely innocent voice traveled through the house like the tinkling of a brook, "My mommy isn't here anymore, Her Father came for her. She knew He was coming. She wasn't afraid. So neither am I. Someday we will all see Mommy again, in the place where flowers bloom and no one is sick or sad…"