A story

by @kaash on January 22, 2010, 09:30:25 PM
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Author  (Read 613 times)
One day a car drove into the cemetery and stopped in front of the caretaker’s ivy covered
Administration building. A man was driving the car. In the back seat sat an elderly lady pale as death her eyes half closed.

“The lady is too ill to walk,” the driver told the caretaker, Henry.
“Would you mind coming with us to her son’s grave – she was a favor to ask of you. You see she is dying” and she has asked me as an old family friend.to bring her out here for one last look at her son’s grave.”

“Is this  Mrs. Wilson” the care taker asked.

The man nodded.

“yes in know who she is. She is the one who to put flowers on her son’s grieve has been sending me a check every month.” The caretaker followed the man to the car and got in beside the woman.
She was frail and obviously near death,but there was something else about her face,the caretaker noted – the eyes dark amd sullen,hiding some deep,long lasting hurt.

“I am Mrs. Walson,” she whispered. Every month for the past two years-“
“Yes I know. I have attended to it just as you asked.”

“ have come here today,” she went on because the doctors tell me I have only a few weeks left. I shall not be sorry to go. There is nothing left to live for. But before I die,
I wanted to come here for one last look and to make arrangements with you to keep on placing the flowers on my son’s grieve.

She seemed exhausted – the effort to speak sapping her strength. The car made its way down a narrow,gravel road to the grave. When they reached the grave,the woman,with
What happended to be great effort,raised her self slightly and gazed out the window at her son’s tombstone. There was no sound during the moments that followed – only the chirping of the birds in the tall,old trees scattered among the graves. There were no flowers,no signs of flowers on her son’s tombstone.

Finally the caretaker spoke.”you know, Ma’am, I was always sorry you kept sending the
Moner for the flowers.”

The woman seemed at first sight not to hear. Then slowly she turn towarded him. “Sorry?” she whispered. “Do you realize what you are saying – my son…”

“Yes I know,” he said gently. “But you see, I belong to a church group that every week visits hospitals,asylums,prisons. There are live people in those places who need cheering up,and most of them love flowers- they can see them and smell them. That grave – he said over there – there is no one living, no one to see and smell the beauty of the flowers..” he looked away his voice trailing off.

The woman did not answer, but just kept staring at the grave of her son. After what seemed like hours, she lifted her hand and the man drove them back to the caretaker’s building. He got out and without a word they drove off.
I have offended her, Henry thought. I should not have said what I did.
She must be very hurt and will be cursing me for not putting folwers on her son’s grave.
 But I did nt lie?

Some months later,however he was astonished to have another visit from the woman.
This time there was no driver. She was driving off the car herself! The caretaker
Could hardly believe his eyes.

“You were right,” she told him, “about the flowers.
That why there has been no checks.After I got back to the hospital, I could not get your words out of my mind. So I started buying flowers for the others in the hospital who did not have any. It gave me such a feeling of joy to see how much they enjoyed them – and from a total stranger, it made them happy,but more than that,it made me happy.

“The doctors don’t know,”she went on,”what is suddenly making me well,but I do!”
“Henry! thanks for this,” she said. Henry nodded with a smile on his face.

Umda Shayar

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«Reply #1 on: January 23, 2010, 08:52:38 AM »
Beautiful sharing Kaash ji. icon_thumleft Applause Applause Applause Applause
Rishi Agarwal
Umda Shayar

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«Reply #2 on: January 23, 2010, 01:25:38 PM »
Nice Sharing Kaash JI
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