Gemotions

The small girl, her face smeared with dirt, tugged at the hem of her mother's dress. “Mommy, are we going to ask her now?” The girl’s eyes were wide and filled with a hopeful anticipation.

Her mother, Ms. Harrison, sighed, her shoulders slumping. She looked at me, her cheeks flushed.

I felt a sudden rush of… something… as I watched them. A deep ache formed in the pit of my stomach.

Ms. Harrison’s own garden, now unkempt and neglected, had always been a haven of brightly colored flowers, something I always admired when I’d seen her working on it.

“Our backyard, it gets no sun anymore,” she said, her voice barely audible. Her daughter's gaze flickered to the ground. “The new tree… it’s just too tall.”

I knew, I knew how much those flowers meant to her. She looked lost, and I thought of my own early childhood.

“I was hoping…” Ms. Harrison continued, her voice filled with a desperate plea. “Maybe the edge of your yard? Just enough for her and me.”

I forced a smile and leaned down to meet the girl's gaze. "Of course," I said. "We can get started right away."