The Little Girl

Once there was a girl with blue eyes, dark brown hair and skin fair enough that she appeared almost white. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, and when asked what her name was, she simply smiled and said “Lily”, because that is what she has been known as since she was very little. She lived a solitary existence, tending to her father’s farm and spending her days in a meadow surrounded by wildflowers. Her favourite place to play is at the edge of the river, where it is shallow enough for her to wade knee-deep into the icy water, letting herself be carried along by waves until she reaches the far bank. It is here she likes to lie on her back, letting herself float in the water and staring up at the clouds until her father finds her. He often asks her if she wants something to drink, but she refuses, preferring instead to watch him tend the fields until he returns and leaves her to herself once more.

On her birthday she receives many gifts, all of which she keeps in her dress pocket. The one thing she does not want is for people to know who she is or how old she is. She knows that her parents wish they could take care of her, but her aunt and uncle do their best, and she appreciates this even though she doesn’t always feel like it sometimes.

One day, however, her mother asks why she doesn’t have any friends her age at school and Lily can no longer pretend that she isn’t disappointed.

“I don’t like the other kids,” she explains, trying her best to keep her voice steady so as not to start crying again.

Her father looks at her with sympathy in his expression and holds out his arms, beckoning for her to come into them. When she hesitates he takes hold of both of her hands and says “Come here, my sweet Lily. Don’t you worry about that anymore? You just enjoy yourself and make some new friends, and if you want I’ll teach you how to ride a horse someday!” Lily lets a small smile creep onto her face in response to her father’s words. He may only be thirty-eight years old, but his fatherly love seems eternal. He kisses the top of her head, then turns around and goes to work.

After supper that night her father brings home the news.

“They are going away for a few weeks, and I won’t be able to take care of Lily alone. Someone else will have to stay behind. Do you mind watching over her?”

At first Uncle James says “no problem”. After all, his daughter’s birthday party was only four days ago, and he had never before had the pleasure of playing house. But after listening for an hour, he realizes that there are some problems that Lily cannot handle without adult supervision.

“Is there anything else we need to know? What kinds of toys does she get to bring?” he asks. “And is she allergic to flowers or bees?”

James is the one Lily has told her secret about. Not because he is bad, although he can be quite annoying. No, it is because she knows that he won’t say a word. After all, he is too kindhearted to ever tell anyone about the things that upset her. Even now, as she sits silently across from him in the kitchen, trying to decide whether or not she should speak up. She glances out the window to see Aunt Marge’s carriage rolling down the road towards the door, followed closely behind by an enormous black carriage with a long tail attached. A small group of men are walking beside it, talking quietly amongst themselves.

As soon as the carriage stops Lily springs to her feet. “Thank you, Uncle James. Thank you so much for everything.” Then she runs from the room and locks the door behind her.

Uncle James sighs, shaking his head before picking up the plate and spoon from the table. He sets them aside to dry and then begins to clear off the table.

His wife walks into the dining room and stands next to him.

“That was probably a good idea, James,” she says. “We might have gotten lucky with the boy. If they’re not married by next winter... Well then, we won’t get our daughter back for another ten years. We can count on it.”

Uncle James nods then picks up the broom and sweeps the floor.

Aunt Marge appears on the front porch. “The children are inside. They were eating together, just as I expected. I think they’re ready for their bath. Now, James, remember, let them choose their own time to bathe tonight. I know it might be hard to believe, but baths are not part of your job description.” She pauses and gives him a playful look. “You might find the experience rather enjoyable.”

Uncle James smiles, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Don’t I know it!” he replies cheerfully. “Just like having a little girl in your life!