By, Nan Claire Falkner
“What about these pink flowers Momma? They’re pretty. Gamma would love them!” Dinah said, squinting her eyes as the sun peeked out of the winter clouds.
“Oh sweetie, what a wonderful idea, and they‘re from her own garden!” Charlotte said.
“Okay, I’ll go get the newspaper to wrap them in.”
“Don’t run with the scissors!” Charlotte shouted as Dinah bounced into the back door. And just like that, the tears came, streaming down both her cheeks.
“Oh Mother, why did you die?” She wailed. “I need you!”
“Your troubles are few.” the wind whispered back.
Dinah shouted “Momma, Daddy’s home!”