Gemotions

He found them tucked away in the very back of a trunk, beneath a layer of cedar chips. The musty scent of the trunk did not bother David, he knelt down without hesitation. The brittle paper crinkled beneath his touch as he began to sort through his mother's meticulous collection of his childhood schoolwork. His hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as he picked up a faded watercolor painting of a barn.

The colors, once vibrant, had dulled with time, but the image sparked a memory of a Sunday afternoon spent with his mother. The way she had patiently guided his brushstrokes, praising his work even when the paint spilled. A gentle feeling began to spread within him.

He touched a math test with an A+. How many late nights had she spent helping him understand fractions? He knew the answer. David carefully set the test aside, the memory of her always there to help was a powerful balm.