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Margaret
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Margaret She was not a pretty little thing. She was all arms and legs and sharp corners. She ran fast and stopped with a bump. Her mind was filled with the books she ate, she<b> traveled </font></b>further in an afternoon than most travel all their lives and only her ’s insistent voice could bring her home again. But, her best friend was a pretty little girl, kind and gentle. One who kept her from straying too far too fast and who she loved with all her heart because she could see that her friend was angel kissed. In the summer when her friend was ill and could not play outside at all but had to stay in bed and not move, each day she would wrap up a present from the her day and walk over to the house and her friend’s red eyed would her to the room that smelled of medicine and no air and she would sit and her unwrap the mangled paper . Her friend would place the precious gift in a wooden box along with all the others after peering at it closely and asking many questions. They were allowed minutes and she had to wear a mask. Her friend called her my lone ranger. day, her would not let her in. The doctor was there and so she sat on the steps, picking a scab until it began to bleed. When the old man came out he sat down next to her opening his bag and cleaned her leg planting a bandage over the silly little cut. He told her what was making her friend sick and how her visits were a good thing . He thanked her for her . He asked if she could find a stone so perfect that it would lift the pain from her friend’s heart. She ran off to the woods where she was not supposed to go ever alone, but where else to find a stone so perfect, so glorious. She scoured the earth digging under leaves, came home late, dirty. Her was so angry with her she didn’t even ask what she’d been doing just set her in the tub and talked at her until her eyes closed. The next day she was to stay in….allowed only to visit her friend and return immediately after. As she walked the short distance, her hands empty for the first day since her friend had been ill, she wept. A squirrel chittered at her, she looked up. He was annoyed as though she’d happened on a nest , yet she couldn’t see one. Her temper flared and she reached down to pick up a pebble to toss at him. In her hand was a piece of rose quartz, not perfect but pink like her friend’s cheeks used to be. She ran. Up the front stairs, past the , up to her fremd and trembling placed it into her hand. She placed it in her hand and her friend gasped. It’s a heart, she said. my new heart. She reached behind her for a book and pushed the pages faster and faster until there it was, the picture of a heart., an anatomical heart. the shape of the stone. The two sat staring. It’s my new heart. Now if this was a fairy tale, all manner of magical things would happen. Instead she stuck it under her pillow . and life dragged along. it took six more months before her friend would be able to leave her bed. On the day she was allowed her first walk, the stone went into her pocket. The friends walked to the tree where the squirrel was still chattering and sat down on the small stone wall surrounding the neighbor’s property. They talked about , well, everything. The neighbor who did not enjoy the sight of people sitting on his wall came out with his cane to shoo the away until he saw her blond curls and quietly went back inside, watching from his window to make sure they were both safe. Eventually, the mother came looking for them. It’s enough for today she said. and stole her from her friend. Until the next day and the next day after that. Each day walking a bit further. Each day feeling a bit more filled with life. And every day she ran from school to see her, with a hastily wrapped piece of the real world but none so perfect as her heart. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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best friends are a gift. treat them as one. You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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I am smiling thought my tears. There is no greater gift than the love of a true friend (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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What a heart felt story, thanks for making my day much brighter with this story. Always so good to have such a wonderful friend in your life. I hope life is treating you well my friend.. Seduce the mind and see what a wonderful adventure the body will take you on.. 
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10/7/2019 4:01 pm |
I agree it does take alot to move me but that story did in a profound way ..thank you for sharing ..
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It's a beautiful story, wicked.  Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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*sniff* I love this so much. Thank you for sharing your little Margaret's world with us again. Hugs to you. "Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is relax." – Mark Black
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Friends... are a gift.... 😊 👍 ❤️ ... is there another way to look at it Going Too Fucking Far NEW Blog Features RevealeD O O A Foolproof Method Posted Over on that NEW site O O
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I'm thankful every day to have friends in my life.... treasures!!!
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10/8/2019 1:21 pm |
"The bond that link*z your true family is not one of blood, but of Respect and Joy in each other*z Life. Rarely do member*z of one family grow up under the same roof." ~ Excerpt from "][llusions" by: Richard Bach
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10/9/2019 5:15 am |
Damn. Gorgeous. Perfect. Thank you.
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Hey Wicked, ...........Beautiful Story!............. Sinfully Yours, backpocket13
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This was a pretty story. It conjured up images of the squirrel and the stone, and a bedroom where there was no outside air allowed in. Thank you, Kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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Such a beautiful story ! Thank you again for sharing, just love it
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