Of all the hardships they faced, the worst was winters. The only heater they had, had stopped working the year before and the odds rattled in a tin can above the shelf when Martha thought of getting it fixed from the town. The little fire that they could gather was not enough to keep Peter, nana and his baby sister, and Martha had no heart to send her 10 year old to gather woods in a weather as such. She is scared of losing her only son like she lost her husband. They said they never found his body in the land where he went to get a job. They said there was a blizzard and they never found him since although in the core of heart she believes that he is alive.
She turned her train of thoughts away. Maybe she will knit them something warm. Something to keep them all warm. Safe. Happy. And she thought of a large blanket made with the softest wool. One that gives you happy dreams and snuggles you like a baby. Maybe one in blue and a red flower in the center, cashmere, tweed, mink, some fresh bread and cheese, a glass of warm milk, hot chocolate for the baby.
She opened her eyes and realized what her dreams are made of. The bare necessities of life that they don’t have. A warm tear rolled down her cheeks. It’s only a day to Christmas and she could buy no presents for anyone.
She hears the door creak and bang- it must be snowing outside. The windows need fixing but that can wait. At least they are together to enjoy however little life could get them. She walked off to the tiny kitchen and took out what she has been saving for this day: a pheasant, some bread and carrots. It’d have to be soup to feed 4 mouths happily. She pulled her worn out cardigan’s sleeve as far as it can stretch and tucked her hands in before she began with her chores. And it was not until midnight that she was done with it all wondering what to give her family for Christmas.
At 12, she started with a scarf.
There was a knock at the door when she suddenly woke up. It’s Christmas and she fell asleep. Was she dreaming? There was a knock again and this time she was certain of it. She pulled her hair back and dragged her shivering self to the door.
There he was standing, her husband. Is she still dreaming? She went ahead and touched his cheek- he was real. He is back. Steve’s back.
The celebrations went on forever before she could finally return to her pile of unfinished knitting. Infront of a cackling fire she took up her pile of wool only to find out that someone, at the death of the night, has knitted the scarf for her. It had Steve’s name on it.
The winner of Ramsign Porcelain Enamel plaque is Estrella. She wrote: “
My favorite is the Lighthouse series, because I’m crazy about them (yet don’t live next to the sea, so I’ve never been to one ) This would bring a romantic beach walk’s sentiments if hung on my wall next to my bed.
As for numbers, I’d love to have “1881″ on it. 1 and 8 are numbers that repeat themselves so much in my life anywhere I go, I’m embracing them.
One of my favorite books is “Time at the top”, where the main character travels back to 1881.
When I visited Sicily, there was an old church we looked at from the street (it was closed) and wondered what year it was built in – I was the one who noticed 1881 written among the elaborate design of its gate.
Just last week we went to the movies and before I sat down realized: it Nov. 18, and my seat number was 18. I could go on and on with the examples.”
Time to immortalize your sentiments Estrella. Enjoy!