The miracle happened on a cold, dark January morning.
You see, Mama left Daddy an eternity ago.
The cold Nor’easters of the New England coast never
agreed with her native Floridian blood.
That was her excuse.
My best guess is Daddy’s cold hearted affections,
his stormy temper,
left an unbearable, icy chill upon her soul.
Not long after, she died
from a cancer kept hidden from us.
I had planted the orange sapling
as a symbolic gesture
near her headstone the day she was buried.
I never considered it would actually grow,
let alone bear fruit.
Mysterious are God’s ways.
This week Ms. Jenny changed things up and hit us with a photo prompt, instead of a word phrase, for our 100 word essay. She's a sly one, that Jenny! I had an inkling of an idea before I left for the morning's responsibilities.That inkling developed into the story above. If I had more words, maybe I could have woven a more complete tale. But for now, this will have to suffice.