Carson’s Invitation

It was a drizzly Monday morning. Carson ran up to Mrs. Green’s house on his way to school with a smile on his face and an envelope in his hand. Mrs. Green greeted him with a knowing smile and a hint of borrowed anticipation. Carson quickly handed her the envelope and began running back down the walkway. He ran as if he was dodging raindrops defying the umbrella his mother put in his backpack. Over his shoulder he yelled,

“I hope you don’t mind Mrs. Green. I have planned a party, at the climbing tree, on the last day of school. I will take care of everything.” Just be there at 6:00! It will be better than Christmas!”

Mrs. Green laughed at Carson. She knew it was true. In Carson’s mind there was no better day than the last day of school. She opened the envelope and pulled out a card. Carson had sketched a picture of a bald eagle on the front of it. Carson was very good at drawing. Mrs. Green laughed. She knew Carson had chosen this because it was the symbol of freedom. Inside in Carson’s own handwriting it read,

eagle-33121__180

Meet me at the climbing tree on Friday Night at 6:00

Come Hungry

Carson

Copyright Terri Neagle Donaldson 2015

Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Advertisements

One thought on “Carson’s Invitation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s