|main menu | youngsters categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|Cry for Spring (standard:drama, 588 words)|
|Author: BENTLINK||Added: Jan 16 2010||Views/Reads: 1718/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Henry would just like one more spring with April.|
CRY FOR SPRING We cried for Henry today. When last fall Henry said, “I just can't wait for spring to come”, we thought it was because he was as anxious as we all were for warmer weather. It was only later in the deep of winter we learned Henry was ill and not likely to get well. Henry talked constantly about spring; he spoke of wading in ankle deep icy water to cross the little creek behind his house to pick newly sprouted dandelion greens from its south facing bank. He talked about stretching out on the big flat rock up near the top of Smith ridge and letting the sun warm his bones. He wanted to see the old momma fox take her new cubs for their first walk outside the den. He talked about watching the blue birds and robins mating and nest building. For all his life Henry worked hard building barns and fences, felling trees, and mending wagons and even fixing people when he could. Henrys soft low voice could sooth any upset horse or angry husband. Children with hurt feels were magically drawn to Henry for comfort. He sat quietly and listened head semi-bowed nodding yes again and again as the child explained away the sting of their injuries. When Henry became bedridden, he talked about the many springs of years past; the wet spring and flood of 84 when the people of the holler took to flat bottom boats and came calling to check on each other. He told us about when he was a boy and tried to get honey out of a big hornets' nest high up in a walnut tree. He said he later figured out his uncle was just kidding when he told Henry hornets made honey having no idea the boy would try to harvest some. Henry said he always remained thankful that the insects let him off with just a few warning stings. A springtime he talked about almost every day was when he went for long walks with April the girl from town, Henry showed her the cave he found and the Indian drawings on its walls and in return, April showed him a thing or two about kissing. April took several springtime walks with Henry and taught him the reason town girls are so popular Near the end of his life he got to talking a lot about heaven and how he worried there would be no spring there. He talked about how he would miss the enjoyment of spring sunlight on his bare skin and the way the spring rain felt on his face. Henry said he remembered talking to spring one year and it made so many wild promises about how fine the coming summer was going to be we would have needed three or four summers pushed up together to squeeze in all the good stuff spring talked about. Every body laughed about that and Henry smiled. It was kind of sad because saying these things was so unlike Henry we thought it must be the drugs talking. When Henry's time came, he was surrounded by a circle of friends sharing his visions of a warm golden sun, mild soft rains, fresh green growth and brand new life all around. We buried Henry today on his family plot up near Smith ridge over toward the south side were the dogwoods, redbuds and crabapples bloom. Then we cried for our old friend Henry and maybe just a little for spring as well. Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
BENTLINK has 33 active stories on this site.
Profile for BENTLINK, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.