Daisies

I had never really seen the point in the Midsummer Eve traditions. Putting flowers under your pillow so you can dream of the person you're going to marry? Foolishness. But this year was different. Even though I didn't take part in the tradition, I wondered if there was someone that had dreamed about me. I had been thinking about it all night, but as I woke up on Summer Solstice I decided to push it to the back of my mind. I already had enough going on anyway. My father had gone off to war and never returned, leaving me and my mother to fend for ourselves and my younger siblings. Mother has been in denial for weeks since we received the news. Since I couldn't depend on her to provide for my three younger siblings, I was the one that had to go out and find work to put food on the table everyday. I eventually found a job in a paper mill, but not without having to go many days without food for my family. Finding a job during these times is very difficult and if you are lucky enough to get one, you usually are not paid very much. Lucky for me, they gave us Summer Solstice off so we could enjoy this supposed to be joyful time. Being happy seems like an impossible task with kids running around the house and a mother that hasn't spoken a word in weeks, but I try to paste on a smile as I go downstairs to the kitchen. As I walk into the kitchen I see something that surprises me more than my fathers death. The table is full of food. Not the burnt rolls, half rotten eggs, and scraps of meat we usually eat, but instead warm, golden bread, fresh scrambled eggs, and a whole ham. My siblings are also in shock as they walk into the kitchen and stare at the table in disbelief. My only brother, who is closest to age to me, looks at me and asks, "Alice? Where did this come from?" I barely process the question in my shock. He goes and sits down and looks at me expectantly, wanting an answer to his question. My other siblings soon follow suit and I am left with the only option but to do the same. I look over at Elias, my brother, and answer the question that my other siblings must also be asking, "I-I don't know where this all came from. I'm just as shocked as you are." Just then, my mother comes into the kitchen. She blankly stares at the table as she tries to make some sense of the world around her. Finally, after what seems forever, she speaks her first words in weeks. "How did you afford all of this?" She's addressing the question to me and I again have to repeat what I told my siblings. Everyone else is already digging into the hearty breakfast, but my mother still stands there staring endlessly at us. I walk over to her and help her sit down at the table, where I also proceed to help make her a plate of food. She slowly comes to herself and begins eating the food set in front of her. As I walk to my seat and make myself eat the food that my siblings are already stuffing down their throats, I can't stop thinking about who might have done this. Why would they leave us all this food? It's not like I have family around here that could afford this, or even close friends that could. People around here can barely keep food on the table for their own family, let alone leave a whole feast for another. As I reach for the last piece of bread in the little basket set in the middle of the table, I feel a small scrap of paper at the bottom. As I pull it from the woven reeds of the basket, my family looks at me in curiosity. Could it possibly be that the person that left us this feast also have left us a note? Elias speaks up again, asking me to read aloud what it says. I nod and slowly open the carefully folded note.

Dear Alice,

I know that you probably have no idea who this is from. In fact, I have no idea who you are. All I know is your name and what your house looks like. I have left this food here for you as a gift and all I ask in return is that you meet me at the Summer Solstice festival tonight at 7 o’clock. Come to the flower booth and don’t be late.

Sincerely, William

By now I have even gotten the attention of my wide eyed mother. Everyone is looking at me with a shocked expression and I know that my face probably looks the same. Olivia, my youngest sibling, asks me with innocent curiosity, "Does William have a crush on you, Alice?" I laugh along with the rest of my family and answer her, "I don't know, but I guess I'll find out who he is tonight." I excuse myself from the table and hurry upstairs. Why does this boy know where I live and how does he know my name? I laid down on my bed to ponder the many questions racing through my mind, but before I could even think of an answer to one of them, it was time to go to the festival. I put on my very best dress and walk with the rest of my sibling down to the town square. All around us are booths, happy people, and the touch of summer. I tell my siblings to stick together and to meet me back at the house by 9 o'clock, sharply reminding them to stay safe. I take a deep breath and walk down the beaten pathway to the flower booth. That booth had always held a special place in my heart, as it had been my fathers favorite part of the whole festival. Every year he would bring home a fresh bouquet of daisies for my mother, who then kept them in a glass vase by the living room window. But this year the glass vase sat empty. As the booth came into view, I could see the outline of a boy. He looked around 17, tall, and very handsome. He turned around and smiled as I came up to him. "You must be Alice, correct?" his voice sounded soft, and it reminded me of how my father sounded when he would tell my mother he loved her. I nodded, too nervous to speak. He continued, "I'm the one that left all that food for your family. I hope that you all enjoyed it. I'm sure you're probably very confused as to why I did that," I again nodded but then choked out the words "Thank you." He smiled at me and said some of the most shocking words I have ever heard, "I dreamed about you for the Midsummer Eve tradition."

Many summers later.

"So that's how you met father?" my youngest child asked me as I finished the story. "Yes, yes it is." I still remember that summer as if it was yesterday. How I had come home and told the rest of my family what had happened. How I had continued to see William all summer and slowly fell in love with him. As I sat in my father's old rocking chair and smiled over at William and our little family I turned my gaze over to the living room window. Sitting there like it had when I was a child was the glass vase, with a fresh bouquet of daisies.