Skip to main content

Henry and Richard

 



Henry and Richard
Chapter One

Henry sat in front of the school and waited for his parents to pick him up. It had been a long day.

Henry had learned his numbers and his letters. He had played kickball on the playground with his friends. And he’d eaten a good lunch. Henry was simply tired.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something twirling in the air. Was it a butterfly? He jumped up as another one flew past him.

The seeds were dropping from a nearby Japanese maple tree. Like a hummingbird, each seed had a pair of wings. These seed wings felt like paper.

Then, Mommy’s car pulled up to the curb and Henry hopped in. She asked, “Did you have a good day today?” He said, “Yes, I did, but I am tired and hungry.”

Momma smiled, “Let’s go right home. I baked a hummingbird cake for our family.”

Henry laughed. “How small is it?”

Mommy said, “It is a regular-sized cake baked with pieces of pineapple inside. So sweet a hummingbird would love it!”


Henry and Richard
Chapter Two

At home the hummingbird cake sat on the kitchen counter. The air smelled sugary. But Henry was distracted. Through the window he spied his friend Richard with his mother Mrs. Missildine.

Henry asked Daddy, “May I invite our neighbors to join us for cake?” He nodded his head up and down. Henry ran outside.

All five people sat the kitchen table, Henry, Mommy, Daddy, Richard, and his mother.

As Mommy cut the cake Richard said, “This is a hummingbird party!” Daddy said, “Yes, hummingbirds are attracted to red flowers.”

The cake was served to the guests first. When everyone had a big piece on their plate, it was time to eat!

With a big smile on his face Henry picked up his fork and leaned over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something twirling in the air. A maple tree seed dropped from his hair.

Henry said, “Get away Mr. Hummingbird! I’m trying to eat!”

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Genealogy: it’s about connection

Each one of us has two parents, four grandparents, and eight great-grandparents. For every generation you go back, the number of people who procreated, to eventually make you, doubles. When I first started out on my genealogy journey, these numbers astounded me, and still do. I love to think about my DNA stew. It feeds my soul. Playing with numbers Let’s assume each generation makes a baby at age thirty. Perhaps the age should be 16, 18, 20, or 25, but whatever, I picked 30 for this exercise. After all, in the past, people started having children earlier than today, but they also bore many more children and did so over a period of 10, or even 20, years. Stick with me for this simplified and fictional example: For a child born in 1960, there were two parents who were born about 1930. The baby’s four grandparents were born about 1900. The baby’s eight great-grandparents were born in 1870. (You see, I'm doubling the number of grandparents and going back 30 years at the same time....
5 comments
Read more

Personal history

Our son Sammy and daughter-in-law Katie gave me a handful of vintage photographs of unknown people for Christmas this year. They came with this note “We hope these snapshots prove inspiring for your work.” They are. Found photo of unidentified family I’ve been known to stand for hours at flea market stalls and silently flip through boxes and boxes of old photos. What am I looking for? I don’t know. Well, yes, I guess I do. It’s connection. When I was 10, our parents divorced. My brother, sister, and I called it “the war.”  Before the war, with three of us kids at home, our household was bustling. We lived on Summer Street in Royersford where our many friends were just next door. I can still hear the venetian blinds on the front door clang as it was opened and closed a hundred times a day. After the war, it was devastatingly quiet. I was alone much of the time. I can see now exactly what I did about it. I became exceedingly charming, ridiculously helpful...
Post a Comment
Read more

A time of beginnings

Perhaps 15 years ago or so, we created a Moon Garden at our Coventryville house and it turned out pretty cool. The structure of the garden was native black granite boulders surrounded by white gravel paths.   We planted it with annuals and perennials with gray, silver, or pale green foliage and fragrant white flowers. Here and there we allowed some purple. A Moon Garden is designed to be enjoyed in the evening and on moonlit nights. It was a labor of love. Over several years, our family had suffered much loss: our nephews Michael and Matt, Steve’s mother, my stepfather Will, and my Mom. Chairs at our holiday tables went from a bustling many to a quiet few.   The Moon Garden felt perfect for that time of our lives -- a quiet spot to reflect, heal heavy losses, and soothe jangled nerves. At night the garden glowed. But now doesn’t feel like a time of endings. Steve and I are settled in our retirement routines. It’s been three years since we left the corporate world....
2 comments
Read more