“Maman!” A little girl yelled as she raced across the garden to her mother.
“Hello little bird.” The mother said, scooping up the child in her arms before setting her back down. “Finally decided to come out and join me hmm?” The child squealed happily as her mother kissed her forehead before wiggling out of her hold.
The child looked at her mother in awe as she quickly and effectively trimmed and weeded the many different flower beds. “Why do you like to garden Maman?”
“You can blame your Papa for that little one. He was the one that originally liked gardening.”
This naturally caused the child to ask, “And why did Papa like to garden?”
The mother chuckled at her daughter before she replied, “He found it calming and he could take pride in his work. Did you know when your Papa started to court me, he gave me a different kind of flower every morning. He spent hours in the library at school learning how to conjure them.” A fond smile spread on her face as she turned to her child. “Your father said I was too unique to be named after a single flower and that is why my name was simply Fleur.
“Of course he wanted to give me real flowers, but he was limited while we were at school. Now, what kind of flowers shall we give him today?” The mother asked her child.
An intense look of concentration spread across the child’s face as she tried to remember the names of different flowers in the garden. “How about a l-lily.” The young girl said, still struggling with the ‘l’ sound.
A smile spread across the face of the mother, before she bent down to better look her child in her green eyes. “I think your father would love that.”
The pair walked up a hill on their property. Under a tree rests a small grave. The child ran up to it and set the flowers down before immediately launching into an adorable mix of French and English detailing what she had done and seen since her last visit.
(A little early for sad summer but this was has been on my mind for a while)