The Sun's Promise
Quietly she sat in the meadow, waiting. Soon the sun would makes it’s way through the darkness. Promises had been made to that affect. She had been promised the sun would shine this day. Pulling her knees up she rested her chin wrapping her arms tightly around her legs.
She started thinking back. How many times was this promise made? I heavy sigh escaped her lips. Looking around she noticed the plants were losing their color. That vibrant green was fading. The purple was more of a lavender color. The sky was still gray and unfriendly looking. It was as if the gray was taking the color from everything around her.
Shaking her head she stood and made her way back to her cottage. Inside was inviting. Bright and warm with the fire light the cottage was. She busied herself with her herbs, checking to see if some were dried. They weren’t ready yet so she sat by the fire with a book. She was so distracted by the sun not shining she couldn’t concentrate on her book. Busy work would keep her occupied for a while. She straightened her herbs, oils, well really the whole house. Night came and she went to bed. In her dreams the sun again promised to rise.
Waking a smile spread across her face. She stretched and rolled on the bed. This would be a good day, she said to herself. Her steps were light as she made breakfast. “I think I’ll take it outside and wait on the sun”, she said to herself. It was gray when she opened her door and she bravely stepped out into it. The sun would appear today, it promised.
The meadow was where she waited again, only to be disappointed one more time. Each day she noticed a little less color in the plants and flowers. She felt dejected by what was happening. Back at her cottage she could take no solace in the light from inside. It didn’t seem to burn as brightly anymore. That night she heard the Sun whisper once more, “I am here you just can’t see me”. She answered, “Then how do I know you are there”. There was no response.
She lost count of how many days it had been since the Sun spoke last to her. Every day she went to the meadow and every day there was no Sun. One morning while eating her breakfast she saw a brightness outside she had not seen in ages. She hurried outside to stand in the warmth of the Sun only to find it disappeared as quickly as it had come. She screamed her loss to the sky. The next day she again went to the meadow to wait for the Sun. After a couple of days she decided the Sun would never return. Her anger was growing inside of her. She sat in the corner not worrying with anything in her life. She just sat. Not even tending her fire and slowly it was dying out. This time the Sun made it’s promise in her waking time. She held the words that she wanted to say for fear that the Sun would not show. All she could do was bow her head and say yes.
The next day she added some wood to the fire which had almost died. The fire struggled but was burning brightly again. She smiled and said yes today is the day. The Sun will make good it’s promise. It wasn’t to be on that day. Again disappointment was hers. She screamed to the sky, “Why does the Sun make these promises and then not do so”? The sky didn’t answer, it was only gray. Back to the cottage once again and she didn’t know if she could take this or not. Was there a lesson she was to be learning in this? Why was this happening? She shook her head and sat quietly in front of the dying fire. Should she even bother keeping it alive? A small voice inside of her could only say don’t lose hope.
Georgia Langley
11/9/2004
She started thinking back. How many times was this promise made? I heavy sigh escaped her lips. Looking around she noticed the plants were losing their color. That vibrant green was fading. The purple was more of a lavender color. The sky was still gray and unfriendly looking. It was as if the gray was taking the color from everything around her.
Shaking her head she stood and made her way back to her cottage. Inside was inviting. Bright and warm with the fire light the cottage was. She busied herself with her herbs, checking to see if some were dried. They weren’t ready yet so she sat by the fire with a book. She was so distracted by the sun not shining she couldn’t concentrate on her book. Busy work would keep her occupied for a while. She straightened her herbs, oils, well really the whole house. Night came and she went to bed. In her dreams the sun again promised to rise.
Waking a smile spread across her face. She stretched and rolled on the bed. This would be a good day, she said to herself. Her steps were light as she made breakfast. “I think I’ll take it outside and wait on the sun”, she said to herself. It was gray when she opened her door and she bravely stepped out into it. The sun would appear today, it promised.
The meadow was where she waited again, only to be disappointed one more time. Each day she noticed a little less color in the plants and flowers. She felt dejected by what was happening. Back at her cottage she could take no solace in the light from inside. It didn’t seem to burn as brightly anymore. That night she heard the Sun whisper once more, “I am here you just can’t see me”. She answered, “Then how do I know you are there”. There was no response.
She lost count of how many days it had been since the Sun spoke last to her. Every day she went to the meadow and every day there was no Sun. One morning while eating her breakfast she saw a brightness outside she had not seen in ages. She hurried outside to stand in the warmth of the Sun only to find it disappeared as quickly as it had come. She screamed her loss to the sky. The next day she again went to the meadow to wait for the Sun. After a couple of days she decided the Sun would never return. Her anger was growing inside of her. She sat in the corner not worrying with anything in her life. She just sat. Not even tending her fire and slowly it was dying out. This time the Sun made it’s promise in her waking time. She held the words that she wanted to say for fear that the Sun would not show. All she could do was bow her head and say yes.
The next day she added some wood to the fire which had almost died. The fire struggled but was burning brightly again. She smiled and said yes today is the day. The Sun will make good it’s promise. It wasn’t to be on that day. Again disappointment was hers. She screamed to the sky, “Why does the Sun make these promises and then not do so”? The sky didn’t answer, it was only gray. Back to the cottage once again and she didn’t know if she could take this or not. Was there a lesson she was to be learning in this? Why was this happening? She shook her head and sat quietly in front of the dying fire. Should she even bother keeping it alive? A small voice inside of her could only say don’t lose hope.
Georgia Langley
11/9/2004
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