I've written a short story I would like to share with you. The idea came to me one warm, sunny afternoon in a coffee shop during my lunch break while I enjoyed a nice cup of ice coffee. I do love ice coffee, even in the winter time. I hope you enjoy and please, feel free to drop me a line a let me know if you enjoyed it or not.
Thanks for reading my blog!
A TIME FOR ALL THINGS
“Hi, Granny.” Melinda Jacobs called out when she opened her car door with all the energy she could muster. It was only Wednesday and she were already tired to the bone from working long hours at a demanding job. The more long hours she worked the further behind she became in her house chores and her pursuing her love of writing. “I apologize I wasn’t able to come by Sunday. I had to work.”
“Hey Puddin.” Melinda’s seventy-eight-year-old grandmother answered coming towards her. “I hate you missed it. I cooked your favorite and a pecan pie too.”
Granny called all her grandchildren Puddin’. It were a custom in her culture all grandkids had nicknames with no indication of their favorite food, drink, sports or etcetera. The tradition is suspected to have begun before the Civil War to prevent the Confederate Soldiers from drafting young boys to work on the fort down on the coast. The county census held the child’s birth name. The prevention of revealing who the boys really were remained in only the use of their nicknames.
“Did you save me a slice?” Melinda stooped down gave her grandmother a hung.
“Honey chil’ you know I did. I baked two pies.” Granny smiled and winked. “I hid one in the pie safe when your mother said you couldn’t come.” Granny turned to walk back to her flower garden of roses.
“Thank you, Granny.” Melinda wrapped her arm around her Grandmother’s shoulder, taking slow steps as they walked together. “Your roses are looking great this year Granny. Have you done anything special to them?”
“No. Not really. Just some loving care here and there.” Granny leaned down to smell a perfect bold, red bloom of a rose called, Hoochie Coochie. “Tell me about your new job, Puddin?”
“Not much to tell Granny. It’s corporate America. I work when they say work or I don’t have a job.” Melinda hunched her shoulders. “The pay and benefits are good, however, the hours are not.”
“That’s not good. What about the Lord’s day?” Granny moved to the next rose bush and began to inspect the leaves and the blooms.
“Work doesn’t begin on Sunday’s until 4 pm. That’s why I didn’t come Sunday. I would have been late for work if I had driven here and tried to drive back.”
Granny nodded her head. “I understand Puddin. There have been many times in my life were I’ve questioned why things were done the way they were.” Granny reached inside her handmade apron, retrieved a pair of tiny scissors and cut a closed bud of a pink rose. With wrinkled, knotted fingers from years of hard manual labor, she cut the thorns from the flower stem. “I know times have changed for you young folks Puddin. I know its harder now than ever to make ends meet. Always remember one thing is for sure. There is a time and place for all things. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven, #Ecclesiastes 3:1. Don’t ever forget the Lord God, the Sabbath and always keep His day holy. You may have to work on the Lord’s Day. That doesn’t mean you can’t still get down on your knees and thank God for what you do have.”
Granny motioned for Melinda to come closer to her. Granny reached up and placed the rose behind her ear. “Now, that’s a fine rose for my fine looking granddaughter.” Granny turned toward the back door of her humble home. “Come on Puddin’. You look pale underneath your eyes. I bet you haven’t had a decent mouthful to eat since you started working.” Granny stopped and turned back to Melinda. “Come on now, times a wasting.”“Coming, Granny.” Melinda forced her tired limbs to move. Granny was right. No matter what, she would continue to praise God. For it was God who woke her every morning, gave her a job to go to, kept a roof over her head, shoes on her feet, clothes on her back and food on her table. If not for God, she didn’t know where she would be.