They are Right, You Can’t

“They say you can’t. They are right, if you believe them.”

Mrs. Green

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Share a Warm Mug and a Warm Hug With a Friend

It is the first day of fall and Mrs. Green has something up her sleeve. Are you anticipating the change in seasons or dreading it?  Tell us all about it . We would love to hear of your favorite fall traditions, warm recipes, and  how you anticipate the change in the seasons. We hope you enjoy this simple story.

A Warm Mug and a Warm Hug With a Friend

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Very early, before the sun came up, Mrs. Green got out of bed. She dressed in blue jeans and a warm fleece jacket. She was careful not to wake Mr. Green as she tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Sue was visiting with them for the week and she had a few friends sleeping over. There were teenage girls on the living room floor and on the sofa, all sound asleep. Mrs. Green opened the hall closet as quietly as she could. She pulled out a cozy winter hat. It was deep purple and green with a long pointy end and a pom pom on top. She pulled it over her unruly curls and instantly felt the warmth of her good friend who had knitted it for her years ago.

Without turning on the kitchen light she quickly fed Ampersand and gave him fresh water. He looked up at her with sleepy eyes. He was as silent as she was. He seemed to know what day it was and the plan for the morning. Mrs. Green opened the refrigerator and poured two cups of cold milk into her favorite glass mugs with swirly, curly handles. She placed the mugs in the microwave, making sure to stop it before the bell woke everyone up. She placed the warm mugs on the counter, and scooped big spoonfuls of her homemade mocca mix.  She watched as the chocolate rained down into the stark white milk, transforming it into a wirling, cream colored concoction that brought her comfort just looking at it.

She slid on her shoes and slipped out the back door with the two mugs in her hand and Ampersand following closely behind her. The yard was very dark, but Mrs. Green knew the way. She passed by the vegetable garden that was beginning to die back, the weed garden now golden from cool nights, and the two hammocks dripping with dew and ever so slightly swinging in the dark morning breeze. She walked just past the climbing tree and tiptoed onto the sturdy rocks carrying her across the babbling stream and into the May’s farm field.

It was still dark when she saw Mrs. May walking over the high place in the field. They met at the old bench like they had done year after year on this very day. They sat side by side without a word, sipping from the warm mugs and watching. The two friends smiled, clinked mugs, and hugged as the sun reached up over the high spot on the hill and flooded the field with golden light. They laughed out loud at the simple pleasure of welcoming in  the first day of autumn  with a good friend.

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 Mrs. Green is like a warm hug  after a long day, so send this story to a friend. It is our gift to you. Mrs. Green is sure to put a smile on their face and help them anticipate the many simple pleasures of fall.  Enjoy!

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.

Phoebe

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Early Saturday morning Mrs. Green got up and headed out to the farm store. She wanted to pick up some fresh vegetables to make a big salad for dinner. Mrs. Green loved the small store attached to the nursery. It was full of brightly colored fruits and vegetables in wooden crates. Small chalkboards hung on the walls and sat tucked in between the tomatoes, eggplant, and green beans. Each board was written on in beautiful, swirly script, labeling the produce and the sales of the day. Every corner of the store was filled with something beautiful. Mrs. Green loved to and look at it all.

Phoebe was the woman who managed the store. Phoebe was an artist but she didn’t know it. When she began working at the farm store it was a musty smelling, old, run down place few people took notice of. Phoebe transformed it into a beautiful shop with something to look at in every nook and corner.

Mrs. Green was not social friends with Phoebe, yet they were not acquaintances either. Mrs. Green was a big fan of Phoebe. They talked each time Mrs. Green went to the store. They talked about real things like how Mrs. Green was coming along with all her visitors. Phoebe looked Mrs. Green directly in the eye when she asked about Mrs. Green’s week. She wanted to know if Mrs. Green had seen the baby deer, if Bartholomew was ready to go into hibernation, if Juliette was progressing with her English, if Carson and the teenage singing group were still working on Carson’s times tables. She genuinely wanted to know. Phoebe was not only an artist who could draw beautiful swirly script turning chalk boards into art and an old farm store into a designer shop, she was an artist who transformed people and how they felt about themselves. When you spoke to Phoebe you were important. When you spoke to Phoebe you were valuable, not for what you did or what people thought of you, but because you were valuable.

What Mrs. Green did not know, and had never imagined, was how Phoebe loved it when Mrs. Green came into the shop. Mrs. Green was the only person in Phoebe’s entire life who noticed how wonderful Phoebe was; the only one.

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.

Oh Deer

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It had been a busy week. The Green’s waited and waited for the mama deer to return. They knew a mother deer often left a baby for about six hours to look for food.  After ten hours passed they decided they would need to help. They did a bit of research and bought some goats milk.  Mr. Green gave Mrs. Green the warm bottle. She was careful as she approached the doe. The baby popped right up and came over to Mrs. Green. It was famished and drank the bottle quickly. Mrs. Green tiptoed back to the kitchen window with the empty bottle in her hand. The baby deer returned to its spot in the tall grass.

By Sunday night Mr. Green decided he would put up a garden fence around the baby just to prevent anyone from disturbing it. It came to them willingly when the bottle was presented but then returned to its spot on the ground, like an obedient child waiting for its mother.

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The Green’s were busy taking turns bottle feeding the baby all week long. Everyone came and went in and out of the Green’s as if it were a normal week. They were all curious and enamored by the sweet baby deer, all curled up in the back of the lot, by the stream.  Juliette was particularly enchanted by it. She swung on the hammock and sang to it in French on Tuesday morning when she came to visit. “Will you keep it forever, and ever?” She asked Mrs. Green hopefully. Mrs. Green said they were just looking after it for its mama. As much as Mrs. Green wanted to see the doe’s mama return, she was enjoying the little doe and the late night feedings.

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Carson climbed up to the tippy top of the climbing tree on Wednesday, and looked out with his binoculars to see if he saw any deer in the distance. While everyone thought the deer was cute, Carson felt bad for it. “You can tell she is waiting. She keeps going back to the same spot. It’s like she was told to stay there.” Mrs. Green liked this side of Carson. He had a lot of empathy for others. She knew this would serve him well as he grew up.

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Thursday music practice consisted of soft lullabies in the backyard. The tiny doe was lulled off to sleep only to be woken up again as soon as the singing stopped. No one wanted to leave when it was time to go. They stayed on and did homework and ate pizza by the stream. They looked on with curiosity as Mrs. Green gave the baby its evening bottle.

Friday night Sylvia and Sam came over. They were having a nice evening when about 9:00 it began to rain. It started off soft at first and then it poured. The wind blew and big raindrops covered the yard. As quickly as the storm began it stopped. Mrs. Green asked Mr. Green to go check on the deer. When he opened the back yard he heard something. It was a strange cry. They all ran to the door. In spite of the storm the night was lit by the moon. They looked out by the stream and much to their surprise they saw the mother deer standing right by the garden fence with the baby beside it. The mother was calling to the baby and the baby obeyed. It backed up and leapt over the fence with little to no effort at all. Off they ran into the night. They were both gone in the blink of an eye. The Greens, Sylvia, and Sam, all stood at the door in a daze. They were so happy the mama came back and so sad the babysitting was over.  There didn’t seem to be much more to say. Sylvia and Sam went home and the Greens went up to bed. They felt all mixed up inside. Where had the mother been and why did it take her so long to come back? As she tried to go off to sleep Mrs. Green was happy and sad all at the same time.

Saturday morning Mr. and Mrs. Green went outside and crossed the stream. As they began to take down the small fence, they were startled by a rustling in the distance. They looked up from their work. Much to their surprise, several yards away, they saw the mother and the baby standing side by side in the tall grass. The mother stood tall, proud, and perfectly still. She looked Mrs. Green directly in the eye as if to say, thank you. Mr. Green noticed this to. Then the two deer leapt off into the distance and they were gone again. Mrs. Green began to cry and Mr. Green came and put his arms around her. “I know” he said. “They are happy tears.” Mrs. Green insisted. Mr. Green just held her and said, “I know.”

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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.