Winter passing by Julie Helms

If you've visited Glory's Garden at anytime this year, you're likely to know our guest today, Julie Helms. She not only keeps sheep and chickens at Wooly Acres, but she also has quite the knack for poetry and short stories. Today she allows me to present to you a flash fiction piece which really sings to me.

Winter passing by Julie Helms

 Tara was a true free spirit of the summer warm winds. Her little eight-year old legs danced in the tall grasses of the meadow, twirling her about. She picked wildflowers and wove them into elaborate wreathes for her hair. She picked more to bring her mother bouquets who put the blooms in quaint old glass jars and lined them up on the windowsill. Tara would wriggle her toes in dirt, run with her dog across the fields and quietly watch the baby bunnies in their nest as they grew.

But the weather changed. With the first snowfall Tara felt her spirits dampen. She sought the sun with her face through the windows but it wasn't enough. As the snow piled up outside she felt crushed beneath its weight Tara became despondent.

“This will not do,” said Tara's mother. “Look, I will teach you how to sew. You can do a sewing project and when you are done, I promise it will be warm again.”

Her mother brought out some beautiful fabrics, the brilliant yellow-orange of the sun, the cerulean blue of a summer sky, the deep green of the grass.

Tara's eyes lit up with the array of colors. She was a good student, listening to her mother's instruction. They worked together on a sundress that she could wear as soon as it was done, because her mother said that was when it would be warm again.

 Every morning Tara awoke and ran to continue working on her dress. She knew each stitch she made brought summer closer. Outside the snow piled high and wind howled, but Tara was deep in her world of warm, bright sunshine.

As the dress would near completion, Tara's mother would cleverly add a new task: a fancy pocket on the placket or a special flounce around the bottom. Tara never wearied as she worked and worked.

One day her mother proclaimed, “Your dress is done!”

Tara was so excited her hands nearly shook with anticipation as she pulled the dress on and let her mother tie the big bow in the back. Her mother opened the door and Tara closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The earth was waking up. She could hear the birds chirping and feel the southern breeze gently caressing her face.

She was off and running leaving her mother in the doorway, smiling.

Thanks so much, Julie. I do hope you will allow me to feature more of your lovely stories here.