Papa is the one who enjoys sitting and talking to her, in the evenings when he relaxes on the stoep [veranda] after a long day’s work on the farm. When she was a little girl, he would speak to her in English and read to her from his few precious books. As she grew older, he had taught her to read in English, patiently helping her sound out the words until she could do it on her own.
Papa had told her that she was just like his grandmother, Anne, who had died when he was sixteen years old. He had a small suitcase containing a few of her things: her large leather-bound King James Bible, an old copy of a book called Aesop’s Fables, wrapped in plain brown paper, a few letters written in spidery handwriting on yellowed paper and some of her clothes. Estelle knew these few memories of his deceased grandmother were precious to him. He had told her once that he didn’t like to open the suitcase too often as her smell would evaporate, the letters become even more faded and her clothes would lose the shape of her body. He opened it for her though and showed her these treasured items. He had read to her from Aesop’s Fables and even allowed her to read from it, but he always turned the old and delicate pages. Estelle longed to touch those pages and feel the smooth fragility of the paper beneath her fingers.
Share for Sue Vincent’s photo challenge – Memory. You can join in here: https://scvincent.com/2020/02/27/thursday-photo-prompt-memory-writephoto/
That was adorable, Robbie. I can almost feel the fragile book pages myself.
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Thank you, Priscilla. I do love books.
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Reblogged this on Ed;s Site..
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Thank you, Ed.
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“He had told her once that he didn’t like to open the suitcase too often as her smell would evaporate…” Absolutely perfect writing…bravo!
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I agree; I could picture the fragile contents of the suitcase from your words…
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Thank you, Jim.
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You are welcome!
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Thank you, John. I am glad you like that.
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I live this Robbie 💜
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Thank you, Willow. Hugs.
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💜💜 I actually meant I love this , sorry my phone writes what it wants sometimes 💜
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I knew what you meant. I have the same thing sometimes.
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Lol modern technology 😜
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Very atmospheric, Robbie. Nice work as always. Hugs on the wing!
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Thank you for your kind words, Teagan.
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Beautiful, Robbie… ❤
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Thank you, Bette.
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A lovely and fragile moment, Robbie.
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Thank you, Sue.
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What a wonderful use of the prompt, Robbie!
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Thank you, Jan
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This past reminds me of my husband’s parents opened an old suitcase filled with B&W photos they bought to the US from Australia and asked the grown children to claim them. Very well done, Robbie.
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Thank you, Miriam. I hope you got some. I love old photographs.
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He did get some. Yes, I only have a few albums of old black and white photos.
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Splendid on so many levels. I was right there with both of them and felt their hearts beat. ❤
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Thanks you so much, Annette.
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That is precious. I feel his undying love for her.
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Yes, she was important in his life. Thanks Jacqui.
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Sweet on the surface, but something just feels off a liiitle bit to give it a creepy edge…
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Well, H., yes, this is part of a supernatural historical book and this scene is quite pivotal to the story-line. Well spotted.
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Yay! I was worried I would be wtong and say something bad, haha
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I wish I had more items of my grands… I’ve nothing from my great-grands. All must be with what ever family may have remained from where they came from.
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I don’t have much from my English family either, Jules. It is because we are the South African branch and most of the family heirlooms are in the UK, which makes sense.
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I like this very much. My favorite part is the father’s not wanting to open his mother’s suitcase too often for fear her smell would evaporate.
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Hi Liz, but that does happen if you leave items exposed, the small of the person does evaporate, doesn’t it.
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Yes, it does.
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delightful sharing of much loved treasured … I’m finally going to be reunited with Winston Churchills hand written letter of thanks to my great great aunt 🙂
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Oh really, who was your great great aunt? My father, who was 62 when I was born, knew Winston Churchill. Some of Sarah Wilson, Churchill’s aunt’s, story has come into my WIP as she was in Mafeking during the siege in 1899.
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she was Florence Clee an English poetess, he hand wrote a letter of thanks on Prime Minister letterhead for her poems during the war … I will collect and publish a few more 🙂
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How lovely
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yes I think so, am rather excited about getting it back! Hope it’s weathered the years ok … now to preserve it 🙂
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That was sweet, Robbie!
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Thank you, Denise
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This is beautiful Robbie!
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Thank you, Ritu.
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Robbie, wow! 😀 A beautiful and poignant piece and I share Estelle’s longing to hold the papers, the book!
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Thank you, Annika. I am glad this achieved the right effect.
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I felt the fragility of the situation and the book. Thank you! Letters from the past too are precious. I have a printed one from my Dad, stationed in France in 1939 and a letter from Clementine Churchill thanking me for sending five shillings to help feed the starving Russians in WW11 (I helped organize and dance in a concert, We must have charged a penny a head..!) Hugs xx
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How wonderful to still have those letters, Joy. I have very few from my grandparents because the English family got most of their stuff [which makes perfect sense]. I would like to have a bit though, because I am the one who is probably the most interested in the past.
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Goes right to the heart ❤
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Thank you
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