A Gift For Mother

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KimMiller aka DyaneForde

by Dyane Forde

The white shoe box rests expectantly on the grass. What to put in it?

Out in a grassy field, nestled in a luscious outdoor world filled with trees, wild flowers, and butterflies, I spy the perfect things to make Mother happy. I pick one up and drop it in my grubby, chubby palm.

I throw open the front door, bound up the stairs heading straight for Mother’s pristine bedroom.

‘Mommy! A gift!’ I thrust the open box at her.

Smiling, Mother turns. But the smile fades, replaced with a screech of horror.

‘Get those out of the house!’

I look at the writing, inter-twined mass of colourful, fuzzy caterpillars.

One day they’ll be butterflies.

Mother looks green.

I close the box.

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