Gemotions

The morning sun cast a golden glow across Amelia's garden, making the roses gleam. She was pruning her favorite climbing rose when she saw Mr. Jones approaching from next door. He had a serious expression, a furrow in his brow. The elm tree that straddled their property was his concern.

He voiced his worry about the roots and the potential for structural damage. Amelia stood, her hands still coated with soil, listening with great care.

“I understand," she said softly, tilting her head. "Why don’t we walk over and have a look together? We can figure something out, I'm sure." She found herself wanting to ease his discomfort.