Hi there, it's good to be back!
I know that it is been a very long time since I have posted in this blog, but I am now picking back up the thread, and hopefully making it better than it already was.
I thought that I would post A short story that I wrote about a year ago or so. I still think it could use a little bit of tweaking, but you know what they say… You are your own worst critic. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy it!
I know that it is been a very long time since I have posted in this blog, but I am now picking back up the thread, and hopefully making it better than it already was.
I thought that I would post A short story that I wrote about a year ago or so. I still think it could use a little bit of tweaking, but you know what they say… You are your own worst critic. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy it!
The Grove
By:
Jessica Arnold
Hannah sighed to herself and rolled her eyes as she tried to block out her Mom’s stupid stories. There they were again—she and her two younger sisters, Amber and Mary Beth—a week before Christmas, sitting on that warn couch and listening to the soft lilt of her voice as she told tales about magical lands and flying reindeer. Hannah didn’t believe in mystical, magical things; she had faded out of that stage after their Dad suddenly passed away. It had been two years, but she remembered the way she and her sisters used to sit on his lap, listening to him spin wonderful tales until his words became their dreams. He would do it all year round, but the winter stories had always been Hannah’s favorites. She always got so caught up in them, no matter how many times he may have told them before. She would dream about those lands, and all the creatures within, and make secret wishes. Then, when Christmas morning would finally come, she was always amazed at the gifts that the entire family would get, even though they were tight on money. She never knew quite how it happened, but they always had wonderful Holiday seasons, even when they didn’t get as much sometimes. She had never believed that her Dad, her wonderful superhero and storyteller, could just go away and leave as he did. After it happened, she tried to dream about magic, tried to remember the feelings, tried to visit those lands again, but found she could no longer see them as clearly. As time passed, she slowly drifted further and further away. She now knew that there was no such thing as magic, and that silly dreams and wishes would not come true, for if they did, her Dad would be sitting in their living room right now.
A log from their old fashioned fireplace popped in the licking tongues of flame, snapping Hannah out of her dismal thoughts. She heard her Mom’s soft voice again, and again, she sighed. It wasn’t that her Mom couldn’t tell stories, because she had done it as well, and she was just about as good as her dad. But everything felt different somehow. Hearing her sigh, her Mom paused.
“Is something wrong, dear?” She asked.
“Mom, I don’t know why you must tell those silly tales.”
“Well, you didn’t think they were silly so very long ago,” her Mom replied softly. “But if you don’t want to listen, you can do something else, like go collect pinecones and good felled branches for some decorations to lighten this old place up a bit.”
Hannah scowled, but she grabbed her coat and stuffed her hands into the thin, winter gloves she got two Christmases ago. She took a small wooden basket off the hearth, and headed out the door. She didn’t see why they needed decorations; they didn’t even have a Christmas tree, and this entire affair was dull anyway. However, she thought of her sisters. They were, after all, still children. Why should they be deprived of some silly things every once in a while? So, she went behind the house, and entered into the woods not too far off their small backyard. Deeper she wandered, absentmindedly sucking on a small homemade peppermint stick.
She kept walking, until she finally spied a couple of thick pine branches near a fat, squat tree. Picking them up, she knelt to peer underneath. Three pinecones lay side by side, and she took each one to add to her basket. In the end, she found four more branches and seven more cones. The last cone, however, lead her to an interesting sight: In the distance, a few beautiful evergreens shown in the waning sun, their needles greener than anything she had ever seen. Though she didn’t really know why, something compelled her to go over there. It was snowing softly now, and the wind whistled through the woods, creating a haunting, winter melody. Hannah realized that the trees were a little farther than she thought, but she kept going. The grove was larger than she imagined, with pines clustered in staggering numbers. She was about to turn back, when she saw that there was a small gap between two trees. Before she knew it, her feet were moving, and she was pushing through the gap. She looked around, and was completely surprised. The snow in this area was white and pristine, untouched and sparkling in the dapples of the dull light from the late afternoon sun. She seemed to be in a rough circle of thick, tall pines. The grove that she had stepped into was large—so large that she could barely see the other side. Smaller, but still very full and healthy pines dotted the area, their branches covered with a dusting of snow. Dumbfounded, Hannah set her basket down by the thick trunk of one tree, and slowly walked around. Some places had soft, rolling hills, but most of the ground was level. There was still a breeze whistling softly through the trees, and as she listened, she thought she heard faint singing. Shrugging, she stepped deeper, the snow crunching softly beneath her feet. She stopped again and listened; she thought she heard the distant tinkling of bells.
“Oh, get ahold of yourself.” She said under her breath. Looking closer, she saw that there were also Poinsettia bushes dotting the terrain, their red and green foliage making a lovely contrast to the mostly white background. They were fully in bloom, and gorgeous! She felt that this whole place had an aura of haunting peacefulness and beauty.
“Hello.” A voice said beside her. Hannah jumped, whirling to her right. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Standing there was a lady garbed in a robe that was as white as the snow. It was trimmed in blue, the color of frozen waters. Her hair was silvery blue, like a winter twilight, and upon her back were beautiful wings. She was a winter angel. Hannah gawked; she couldn’t help it. This couldn’t be real.
“Hello, welcome to our land,” The angel said. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“But, but…” Hannah sputtered, “Expecting me?”
“Yes.” Hannah looked, and saw three more women approaching them. They were all dressed in pure white or ice blue. She noticed that one had long, silvery hair, while the hair of the others was either light blue or white.
“Please, won’t you join us?” One of the others asked. Hannah was trying to think of how to reply, when she gasped as something whizzed past her head. She thought she heard laughter. Another flew near her right ear, reversed direction and came back. More and more appeared, some landing on the heads and shoulders of the angels.
“Little sprites, our guest has arrived.” Said the first angel. They all quieted, clustering around the group.
“Welcome to our land!” They exclaimed in their small voices. Hanna saw that they were tiny human-like figures, and they, too, had wings. All were blue—some ice, others sky. Each one radiated with a slight but welcoming glow.
“Snow sprites?” Hanna asked. The angels nodded.
“They are our friends, and they help keep the place looking nice.” Said the third angel.
“Come,” The first angel said, “It is time for the celebration to begin.” Hannah followed as everyone moved toward the center of the grove. Upon arriving, she saw that there were a few more Poinsettia bushes here, as well as a full, tall blue spruce. The spruce was decorated from the little yellow flowers of the Poinsettias and small pinecones that had been strung together. There were also some sprigs of Holly with plump, red berries set in the branches. It wasn’t exactly a Christmas tree, but it was a beautiful rendition. A bit farther stood a little cottage, smoke gently rising from the chimney. Icicles hung from the roof and window sills, and the walls were the color of gingerbread. The scene looked like something straight from the front of a Christmas card.
“Shall we go in?” The second angel said, opening the door and ushering them inside. A blast of warm air engulfed Hanna as she stepped in. It felt good after being in the cold. It smelled wonderful, like fresh bread, sweetmeats, and an underlying scent of pine needles and mint. Suddenly Hannah’s stomach grumbled furiously. Everyone gathered at a table in the middle of the room, and food was passed around. Hannah ate with them, and listened to the stories shared after the meal. They reminded her of her family, but strangely, she only felt a slight pang of sadness and longing for her Dad. There was no bitterness at the world, no disgust at hearing stories once brought by his lips, and no anger for his leaving. She wondered if she wasn’t going completely crazy. However, the more time passed in the cottage, the more relaxed she felt. After the storytelling was over, they all went back outside, although Hannah didn’t want to leave the warm fire.
The angels gathered around the big spruce, along with all of the sprites, and put on a grand show. They sang a beautiful melody, and the sprites moved around them as if they were magical little lights. It almost had a hypnotizing effect on Hannah. Then, they put on a graceful dance. They glided along, twirling and weaving about in an elegant pattern, like a ballet. The sprites also flew, since they were much smaller, and they had tiny bells that tinkled when they moved. At the end, most of them settled, and seemed to disappear into the snow for a moment. Then, suddenly, they exploded out in a cloud of white, and as the resulting shower of snow fell over them to settle back in its place, they ended the dance with a wonderful climax. Hannah was in awe. The sprites began flying around the tree, and each had a small something in their hands, which was exchanged by all, even the angels. The first angel held out her hand, presenting Hannah with a small glittering snowflake. It was made of metal, but it sparkled like gold.
“I can’t accept this.” She said, staring at the gift.
“Why, of course you can. The sprites made it, and all of us,” She gestured at the other angels, “Blessed it with good tidings and the Lord’s protection. Always remember that he is here.”
“Thank you.” Hannah said reverently, closing her fingers around the snowflake. For some reason, she felt tears forming, but if the angel noticed, she said nothing. The wind began blowing just then, and snow started falling, swirling and spiraling in the air.
“It looks like we’d better get inside. May you and yours have a wonderful future filled with happiness.” The second angel said. Hannah was about to reply, when the snow began coming hard, and the wind picked up, blowing thin drifts from the ground and whisking the falling flakes about. It was so thick that the whole land seemed to disappear for a moment or two. Hannah had to shield her face and hunch from the cold. Just as she was starting to wonder how she was going to get back, a final and brief gust buffeted her, then died away. The snow also lightened up, and Hannah found herself standing in the woods, holding her basket. She was a bit dizzy and disoriented, so she sat down on a stump. The woods looked normal, even the pine grove which seemed so huge. She blinked, then slowly opened a clenched fist, revealing the little snowflake.
“So they were real!” She breathed. After a moment of sitting, she found she could navigate again, and that she was cold. Picking up her basket, she headed in the direction of her home, back to her wonderful family.
