Day's Children

Monday's Child

[Is Full of Grace]

I sat on the edge of my bed, reminiscing about days long past. I'm fairly young, and often considered an air-head, but I've experienced more than you'll ever know.

On Spring 22nd, 17 years ago, I was born in this rural farming community to Lillia and Parsley. My dad's always been a vagabond, traveling here and far in search of rare flowers. He comes home sometime before the Goddess Festival, and leaves in early Fall.

I used to get so mad…You see, my mom, Lillia, is really sick. In fact, she's dying. I would sit on my bed at night, just like this, and wonder. Wonder how he could bare the guilt of leaving her in such a time of need just to go look for some flowers.

Now, I realize those trips were, and still are, more than a pleasure outing. He was searching for a cure. The special flowers were just a bonus. Now, more than ever, I looked forward to his return, to see if he had found the cure yet. At the same time, I almost wish he would stay gone. I know my mom needed him, but she needed the cure even more…

Everytime I see the way my mom raises her head from her pillow to gaze at him when he steps into their bedroom for the first time after returning from a trip, I hurt. Her gaze is full of untold love and devotion, but of worldly pains, and lack of hope.

As I pray for a miracle when he makes his return tomorrow, my thoughts began to drift back to my childhood…

A seven-year-old Popuri skipped down the sidewalk, her pretty pink curls bouncing up and down. Grinning cheekily, she let loose a squeal as she spotted Elli, her best friend.

On the outside, she was just your average little girl. Cute, smart, friendly, and happy. However, as the saying goes, appearances can be deceiving.

Inside, this rare beauty was suffering emotional turmoil. It's hard to deal with knowing someone we love is going to die at any age, but when you're still a child; still in the age of innocence, that burden can sometimes be more than we can bear.

Her mother, Lillia, was dying. Of some newly discovered disease. Now, young Popuri must deal with the hardships of everyday life…alone. Her father, Basil, was out in search of a cure for her mother's condition, so she had no one to show her report cards to, no one to read her bed time stories, no one to talk to when the school day was out…

Perhaps that was when she began to take on a bittersweet attitude. Oh, sure, she seemed all right. What she felt inside, however, was an entirely different story…

"Elli!" Popuri hollered, as she clamored up to her best friend, eagerly wrapping her arms around the other girl's slowly growing waistline. "I missed you! I'm so glad you're better!"

"I missed you too, Poppy!" Elli exclaimed, using her favorite nickname for her companion. "I loved the card you sent me…All the sparkles…Oh, it was so pretty, it reminded me of a cupcake!"

Popuri giggled. "You always think about food…I wish I could think about one thing with such a passion…"

"Any news from your Dad?"

"No…Mom's getting sicker and sicker. She can barely stand nowadays. The doctor said she'll be lucky if she lives a few more years," the young child began to tear up.

Elli patted her back, and squeezed her hand. "One day…Things will get better…"

"I hope so," Popuri returned sadly.

Something, a miracle, if you will, seemed to be keeping Lillia alive. For what, who knows? Five years later, Popuri still isn't good at surpressing her emotions. Older, and wiser, she begins to learn more about her mother. Every evening she'd creep stealthily into her mother's room, and sit on the end of her bed. Her mother would smile kindly, and tell her stories about days long past. Better days…

"And so he asked me to marry him," Lillia smiled softly, recalling to her daughter the story of Basil and herself. "Of course, I accepted! I had my doubts, of course, but still being fairly young and innocent, I couldn't refuse that dashing young man's offer. Things worked out better than I ever expected…Besides this awful illness, that is…"

Popuri barely allowed herself to breathe. She knew she wouldn't have forever to be with her mom, so of course she enjoyed her company, and liked the stories even more, but she was almost afraid if she batted an eye, or breathed, her mother would be gone.

"I can't wait til I get married," Popuri finally spoke, admitting it with a blush. "I'll have this big fancy wedding, with lots of flowers! Daddy can walk me down the isle and…" she abruptly broke off, looking guilty, knowing her mother would never live to see it.

Sleek teardrops trickled down Popuri's cheeks, lighting on her salty lips. Licking them away with a vengeance, she whispered, I'm sorry,"

"Ssh, my dear," Lillia reached out a frail hand to run it through her daughter's lovely pink locks. "It's not your fault! It's not anybody's!"

"Isn't it God's? For making this happen to you?" asked a watery-eyed Popuri between sniffles.

Lying back on her pillow, Lillia's eyes fluttered closed. "No, hun, don't ever think that. Though trying to figure out his exact reasons is quite baffling, it's all a part of his plan…Now go get washed up, say your prayers, and go to bed,"

"Ok, mom…" Popuri left with a somber face to take a bath, and change into her pj's. Appearing in her bedroom, in her baby pink and white striped long pajamas, she slipped under the covers in her fruffy, flowery scented bed.

"Now I lay me down to sleep, pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, pray the Lord my soul to take," she uttered the traditional children's prayer. Hesitantly, she glanced around her room, almost as if she felt someone was watching her. "Dead God…If it's your will…I'm asking you…No, I'm begging you…Please save my mommy…"

With that, her eyelids fluttered closed, and she drifted into a light, yet uneasy sleep.

Popuri, while becoming a bit worried, never lost faith that her Heavenly Father would one day answer her prayers. So the days passed, eventually turning to days, then weeks, then months, and then finally years…

Back to the present we are, while Popuri is now sitting on her blue-cushioned window seat, staring out the window into the cool autumn twilight, watching the changing leaves fall occasionally to the ground.

I really ought to get some sleep, I thought with a sigh. I'll want to get up bright and early tomorrow morning to pounce my father when he walks in that front door…I know I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, like I do every year, but you can't help but wonder…

Maybe he did find it. Maybe things will be ok…But then a cold harsh reality wakes me up. Like it does everytime. There is no cure.

Mother will never be cured. She will not live long enough to meet a boyfriend of mine, let alone see me marry. She won't get the chance to see her and my father's dream come true, which was to spread flowers all across the land.

Walking bare footed across the chilly floor, I gratefully sank into my bed, and pulled the covers up over my head. I never could find away to chase such thoughts out of my head, and away from my dreams, and tonight would be no exception. I couldn't escape my cruel reality, even in my slumber.

In the morning, a gentle sun-shine bathed my bed in it's warmth. I sprang upright into the sitting position. Sticking my nose into the air, and sniffing hard, I caught scent of my father's familiar cologne.

Something wasn't right. My father always comes to wake me up if I'm still sleeping. Not even bothering to change out of my silky white nightgown, I race from my room, and stumble into my mothers.

My father is kneeled down beside her bed, holding her hand, which is resting gently on her stomach, tightly. Both of their eyes are closed, and both are deadly still. Only my father's lips are moving, signifying he's praying.

After standing there in silence for a few moments, realization hits me. My mother must have passed away while she was sleeping. Creeping across the floor, I kneeled near my father, looking almost in horror at my mother. Her face is pale, and lifeless, and she looks a little stiff.

My father's lips stopped moving. He opened his eyes, and removed his hat, which had been pulled far down over his dark brown orbs, and stared straight into my light red colored ones.

"Your mother," he croaked, his voice dry and cracked. He opened his mouth, to say more, but found himself struggling for words.

"Don't talk," I whispered, looking down at the ground.

I felt his strong arms wrap around me, and gather me into a hug. Holding him back, I sobbed into his shoulder. "It's all a part of the Lord's plan though, isn't it…" I whispered.

I felt his body shift as he nodded. He hooked his index finger under my chin, and lifted it up, so once again I was gazing into his oculars. Sweet kisses from 'Daddy' brushed my cheeks, and as the sun pouring in from the window hit my face, lighting up my whole body, I happened to glance in the mirror.

With a bit of shock, I realized, for the first time, how much like my mother I looked…

A/N: Well, there's Popuri's story. It didn't come out how I planned, but I'm still quite proud of it…Even if you're not a Popuri fan [which I personally am not], I hope you can still get the value out of this chapter. After writing this, even though it's just fictional, I view Miss Lady Lovely Locks [My nickname for her XD…Does anyone besides me still remember that card game/cartoon, or whatever it was, Lady Lovely Locks? O.o;;] in a whole different perspective. Once again, I hope you enjoyed. Stay updated and don't miss Chapter 2, Tuesday's Child.