… for you were a child once when the world was young
The story that follows is the story I entered into a contest at a Medium Publication
that, sadly, has closed its doors.
I did not win the competition, but I’m pleased with the story that arose.
It’s creative non-fiction from one of my many times visiting my grandparents.
More details follow after the 422-word story.
Blanketed In Yore
The sky shone orange-red like the color of the clusters of gem-like arils inside spongy pomegranate walls. The slivers of sunlight left behind, the few that cut through the trees by the stump would soon be turning to lavender grey. Alma wished she could have stayed behind to see it. But they were already running late, later than they’d promised Gramma. So Alma and Grandaddy hurried. As quietly as they could, they marched on the narrow path. Soon it would be too dark to see. Where did all the hours go? They’d promised Gramma they’d watch the sunset by the bluff. Together. Alma glanced at her wristwatch and sighed, exhausted but happy. What a loaded day she and Grandaddy had spent today. Surely Gramma would understand. Minutes ago, when Grandaddy grinned and suggested, “Let’s rest our bones here,” she nodded and said okay. She didn’t want to tell him that her legs could go no further. How cool the big stump felt, how delicious her last gulp of sweet tea was. Her legs recovered while they sat drinking in silence. They were about to get up and continue on the trail when a white-tailed doe appeared through the trees out of nowhere. It made not a sound on the snapping underbrush. The most extraordinary moment was when the doe turned its long neck and, with its doe eyes, stared right into Alma’s surprised eyes. It was the first time that had ever happened to her. She will never forget those huge brown eyes, unblinking, captivating her so, or how the sunlight caught its ears, turning them a transparent pink. Then, just when Alma was thinking how that was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen, a dainty fawn meandered into plain view. Its fuzzy fur haloed golden. Turning her head ever so slightly, Alma sought out Grandaddy’s eyes to ensure he was her witness to the beauty before her. His eyes met hers, and he winked. And then, when she returned her gaze to the fawn, it did something incredible. It patted the underbrush as if testing new pointe shoes. Then as if convinced they were a perfect fit, it folded its delicate front legs, then its hind, and sank to the ground like a ballerina. Alma had to blink a few times to ensure it was still there as the little creature seemed to meld into the undergrowth. Surely Gramma will understand why they ended up sitting for much too long, why they couldn’t keep their promise. Surely she will. © 2022 selmamartin.com
I wrote this piece with the theme of Hiraeth in mind.
Subtle nostalgia for yesteryears, when I’d spend time with grandparents,
puts me in such a place. But I never came close to seeing a doe in any of
my walks with my dear grandfather. Not in my country.
But that didn’t stop me from imagining what something like that would be like.
I hope you enjoyed the nostalgic story I chose tp share with you.
“Hiraeth is a word from the Welsh language that has no exact equivalent in English. It refers to a kind of nostalgia, similar to homesickness but somewhat more complex. Akin to the German Sehnsucht and the Portuguese Saudade, it evokes the longing for a home you may never be able to return to and the connection with the loved ones you left behind; or, perhaps, the longing for a place that never existed, the tribe that you haven’t found yet… You can find various pronunciations on Google, but in my humble opinion, the most authentic one is something like HEER-eye-th with a rolled “r” the “th” barely a whisper." ~ ~ Editorial, Literary Impulse.
So extraordinary, it feels like a fantasy
— Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
THANK YOU FOR READING
I Wish You Miracles.
I’m a simple woman who dares to see the beauty in ordinary. I’d love to connect with you and like pen pals, I want something beautiful to blossom between us. Will you join me? Selma is my middle name. Its meaning—peaceful, complete, are euphoric affirmations I like to think of myself as having. They compliment the joy I feel when I write. I sincerely hope you decide to join me on my writing journey. I Wish You Miracles.
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Hiraeth… such a lovely word you have taught us. has a touch of tenderness to it.
A wonderful story, Selma. Thank you for sharing 🤍
A lovely word, Hiraeth and so I had to give it a go. Glad you liked the tenderness I added to it. Pleases me enormously that you read. Thanks so much, Destiny. Xo
always a pleasure 🤍
Beautiful story, Selma😊
Deeksha, dearest. Haven’t seen you in a while. But I thought of you recently, when On a chat to ask for assistance from my internet provider the nice lady who attended to me was one genius names Deeksha. Makes me think that all Deekshas are kind.
😜 thanks for the visit. Bless you.
So beautiful…Selma! Xoxo
Punam. Thanks so much. Xoxo
My pleasure. ❤️
This is such a beauty dear Selma, there is nothing more precious than spending time with grandparents. Made me think of all those times I had with my grandpa. ❤️❤️
Daphny. Dearest. You’ve been away so long. Hope all is well. I’ve missed you. Thanks for reading. Yes, grandparents are good creatures. Bless you.
I’ve missed you as well dear Selma, I was struggling abit with my health but all is well now. Bless you as well xoxo
Be well, dear Daphny. I wish you miracles. xoxo Happy Vernal Equinox and Spring!!
Thank you dear Selma, wishing you the same. 💗
A beautiful story Selma. Thank you for sharing
Sadje, much appreciation. Xoxo
My pleasure
I’m inspired to write a short story now. ♥️
Barbara, you are? Please do. I’d love to read it. Thanks for reading mine today. Blessing you xoxo
I’ll let you know if it happens! ♥️
Lovely story, Selma. Deer and their babies walk down our street often and they are incredible to watch, so graceful in every movement. It’s also wonderful that you have these memories with your grandparents. ❤️
How gorgeous it must be where you live, Lauren. I’d love to see one mother and baby and be mesmerized like that for real, next time. 🙃 thanks for reading. Blessing you. Xoxo
A lovely word, Hiraeth and so I had to give it a go. Glad you liked the tenderness I added to it. Pleases me enormously that you read. Thanks so much, Destiny. Xo
What a beautiful moment with your grandfather. I’m sure your grandmother more than understood. Nature can’t be rushed.
Cannot be rushed. Yes, I’m sure Grandmama knows all about that. Bless you again. Thanks. xoxo