Maria slammed the door, her legs finally collapsing and letting her fall into a heap of golden blond hair and heavy wool sweaters on the floor. Her eyes gave way to the tears she had been desperately holding back.
What now?
What now, what now, what now?
Maria tried to sort her emotions but she couldn't. Instead she sat down at her desk and let her pen and paper take her away.
Her script quickly covered the pages of her worn spiral notebook and she felt her body cool down and rise from it's hunched position. Out of words, she signed the papers and ripped them gingerly out of her notebook. Then, she stood and left.
Her feet brought her to a familiar place: a wooden bridge in the forest. Her hands searched the sides of the bridge until they found a small hole filled with paper.
Maria placed the fresh pages of her notebook in the hole, where they would reside with the many other pages she had covered and hid there.
Then she was gone.
Later that day, as the sun began to set, a tall man arrived at the bridge.
Deep in thought, he leaned against the sturdy rail and dropped his head in his hands.
He had come all this way to find the woman who wouldn't let his mind rest. Her beautiful smile, the gentle kisses she gave his cheek, and the troubled eyes she stared at him with as they were separated.
But he couldn't bear to see her. Couldn't risk being rejected by his only daughter.
His fingers traced the grooves in the wood while he watched the stream trickle beneath the bridge. Suddenly, he felt his hand dip into the side of the bridge. He discovered a hole filled with paper. He removed a handful of the papers and unfolded them, revealing multiple journal entries all signed by one person: Maria Sandry.
His eyes widened at the sight of his daughter's name and his hands began to shake as he read through the pages.
What now?
What now, what now, what now?
Maria tried to sort her emotions but she couldn't. Instead she sat down at her desk and let her pen and paper take her away.
Her script quickly covered the pages of her worn spiral notebook and she felt her body cool down and rise from it's hunched position. Out of words, she signed the papers and ripped them gingerly out of her notebook. Then, she stood and left.
Her feet brought her to a familiar place: a wooden bridge in the forest. Her hands searched the sides of the bridge until they found a small hole filled with paper.
Maria placed the fresh pages of her notebook in the hole, where they would reside with the many other pages she had covered and hid there.
Then she was gone.
Later that day, as the sun began to set, a tall man arrived at the bridge.
Deep in thought, he leaned against the sturdy rail and dropped his head in his hands.
He had come all this way to find the woman who wouldn't let his mind rest. Her beautiful smile, the gentle kisses she gave his cheek, and the troubled eyes she stared at him with as they were separated.
But he couldn't bear to see her. Couldn't risk being rejected by his only daughter.
His fingers traced the grooves in the wood while he watched the stream trickle beneath the bridge. Suddenly, he felt his hand dip into the side of the bridge. He discovered a hole filled with paper. He removed a handful of the papers and unfolded them, revealing multiple journal entries all signed by one person: Maria Sandry.
His eyes widened at the sight of his daughter's name and his hands began to shake as he read through the pages.
If only I knew where he was now. I would give anything to hear his voice, see him smile. If only he was here right now. Then he could sing our song to me and wrap me in a blanket at night. He could laugh at my jokes and I at his. And he could search for smiles when I'm sad like he did when I was nine. I could use a smile now.
But he's gone now. He won't do those things. I won't see him again and after all these years finally know if he's okay.
I miss him.
-Maria Sandry
The papers fell from his hands.
She still loved him. She needed him. She wouldn't reject him. He needed her.
He raced towards the home he had avoided since he had come to the town his daughter lived in.
This time he didn't hesitate to knock on the door.
After moments that felt as long as the many years he had been separated from her, his daughter opened the door.
He could see the pain and sadness in her eyes and the worry painted on her face, but she was breathtaking nonetheless.
They stared at each other through the doorway, the words he had planned to say disappeared. He tried to put a sentence together but nothing seemed right.
Instead, he sang.
My how you've grown I remember the phrase.
From my childhood days too, „just wait and see“
I remember those words and how they chided me
When patient was the hardest thing to be
Because we can't make up for the time that we've lost
I must let these memories provide
No little girl can stop her world to wait for me
Maria began to cry.
Her father took her into his arms and swept the hair from her face.
„Maria“, he said.
She pushed herself closer to him.
„Dad“
The papers fell from his hands.
She still loved him. She needed him. She wouldn't reject him. He needed her.
He raced towards the home he had avoided since he had come to the town his daughter lived in.
This time he didn't hesitate to knock on the door.
After moments that felt as long as the many years he had been separated from her, his daughter opened the door.
He could see the pain and sadness in her eyes and the worry painted on her face, but she was breathtaking nonetheless.
They stared at each other through the doorway, the words he had planned to say disappeared. He tried to put a sentence together but nothing seemed right.
Instead, he sang.
My how you've grown I remember the phrase.
From my childhood days too, „just wait and see“
I remember those words and how they chided me
When patient was the hardest thing to be
Because we can't make up for the time that we've lost
I must let these memories provide
No little girl can stop her world to wait for me
Maria began to cry.
Her father took her into his arms and swept the hair from her face.
„Maria“, he said.
She pushed herself closer to him.
„Dad“
No comments:
Post a Comment