Faithful Hands.

My eyes flutter open as the snowflakes fall on my eyelids.

It was dark, so it must be nighttime, but I've lost track of time.

The leaves trail along the ground, pushed forward by the cold winter breeze.

-

I try to breathe and I saw a fog coming out of my mouth.

My hands stuck to the ice, and I realised they were bare.

I gasped and tried to heave myself up, but it seems that all my muscles were frozen by the cold.

My feet were freezing and my whole body was shivering with the cold, I close my eyes again, accepting my death.

A few whispers sounded from behind me, and suddenly a group of strangers were looking down at me, and possibly my ''dead'' body.

I flit my eyes open again, and they were relieved to see me alive.

One kindly looking lady knelt down beside me, with rosy cheeks and pale hands, dressed in a comfortable fur coat and thick hat.

Her hands were soft and warm and very comforting to my freezing skin.

A few other blurry people knelt down beside me and the kind lady slipped a hand under my neck, I felt.

I was carefully lifted up, and once I was in a sitting position, one person ran for help as the others started to dress me up.

I was wearing only a thin, summer shirt and a pair of pale-yellow leggings.

The kind lady looking appealingly at me, ''Hello? Can you talk? We're here to help you,'' I tried to reply, but only a gurgling kind of sound rang in my throat.

After a few more unsuccessful tries, I finally got a few words, ''I- It's so- I'm so cold,'' The woman nodded, ''Yes, I know you are, so let us help you,'' I nodded and then stopped immediately for my head ached.

They dressed me up in a cosy coat, and put hat on my head, gloves on my hands, socks on my toes and boots on my feet.

They conscientiously lifted me to my feet and they propped me up, like a baby learning to walk.

They helped me slip and stumble across the ground and at last we reached their car.

It was a white van, with a big, painted, red cross on either side, front and back.

I asked, ''Uh- Is this-'' The kind lady understood as she was looking at me looking at the van.

She shook her head, ''We're not from the hospital, we use that red cross for disguise for we are not allowed to do this, actually, but we really want to help people like you,'' She beamed at me kindly and I tried to smile back, but my lips stretched and hurt.

I nodded quickly and she and the others helped me enter the van.

Once we were inside, a song titled, ''Luminary'', was played and I felt that I was slowly floating away from that musty inside of the van, and was transported into another, magical world inside my head.

The others nodded at each other and I said nothing all the way.

The air conditioning wasn't turned on, for even though we were already inside, the cold air still lingered and all of us would be shivering if not for the air-warmer propped up in the back seat.

We drove and drove, and went through city and at last entered a snowy paradise of a forest.

We went deep into the forest, winding through the dirt road, and finally stopping at a little cleared area in the middles of the woods.

There were many little tents and a blazing fire in the middle of the circle of tents. Hot water was boiling in a kettle hung above the fire.

There were many people about, ladies cooking and sewing and men chopping wood and reading books or newspapers, children either singing, dancing or playing with each other, having fun.

I smiled at that happy sight and was offered a chair to sit in with the kind lady, and I accepted the offer gratefully, for my legs, which felt like lead, were about to give way.

The woman snapped her fingers and suddenly a fat, jolly-looking woman came waddling close. The woman said to her, ''Hannah, please poor this young lady a cup of hot tea,''

Hannah nodded readily, ''Iss, Ma'am,'' The woman shook her head, and turned to me, ''Hannah means ''yes'' but all she can say is ''iss''.'' I nodded then stopped again.

When Hannah was busy with the cups, water, teabags and sugar, the kind lady turned to me and smiled, ''What's your name, my dear young sapling?'' She said it so sweetly, so I replied readily, ''My name's Lily, my parents died in a car crash when I was three, and I am now homeless, work with the trash company, and I didn't go to college, thank you so very much for taking pity on me and taking care of me, being so gently, all this time, Madam,''

She must've known I was French for, ''Êtes-vous française, jeune fille?'' I beamed at her, ''Oui, je le suis, et ça ne vous dérange pas que je vous demande, quoi, je veux dire, comment pouvez-vous parler français si couramment?''

She nodded, ''My Father taught me when I was little, and I've remembered it all these years since he left,'' Here she looked sober and I wondered if I dared to ask her what happened.

I finally made up my mind, ''Again, if you don't mind me asking, what happened?'' She hesitated for a minute, ''Mamma and Papa, they fought and I saw them do so,'' She took a breath, and wiped a tear off her pale, but somehow, rosy, cheeks.

I fidgeted, ''I'm sorry, you know, I shouldn't have brought that subject up,'' She shook her head, ''It's alright, well, anyways, Papa went out that morning and came back home very late. Mamma was angry and so she yelled at Papa. Papa was drunk, for I could smell the fizz in his breath, and Papa hit Mamma's head. Mamma was hurt and she cried while Papa swore that he would never come back again and that he regretted meeting Mamma,''

She shook her head dismally at the sad, unfortunate, core memories, ''Papa got out of the house, bringing all our money with him, and slammed the door close. Mamma was very much hurt, mentally and physically, so as soon as Papa was out, I ran out of the pantry cupboard, and hugged her tight, sobbing into her arms.''

I felt so much pity for her, as she continued, ''Suddenly, Mamma gasped loudly and pushed me off of her, and her chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to breathe and failed woefully. At last, she beckoned me to her with her hand, then she tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, whispering to me, 'My dear child, run, run away, and take my hidden money, it's behind the hangers in my closet. Run, leave Mamma here, she'll get on fine, go dear, I'll miss you, but go,' ''

Here, the lady wiped her tears again, which were now flowing uncomfortably, and Hannah offered here a handkerchief as she resumed, ''Until now, I still admire Mamma's bravery and how she died a hero, and I replied to her last words, ''Yes, Mamma, I love you so, don't die! I will run, Mamma, just as you say..'' I said that regrettably, for I didn't want to leave her alone there, with a failing heart and nobody to look after her, but I followed her words. I took the hidden stash of money in her closet and when I secured some viands in my small bag, the one Mamma had given to me on my ninth birthday, along with some fairy-tale books given by Papa before he turned bad, then when I was at the door, I took a last, longing glance at Mamma, and said, ''Mamma, I love you and goodbye,'' She nodded and blew a kiss at me,

''But I couldn't resist it, so I ran back to Mamma and hugged her tight for the very last time, and as I did that, I heard her heart pumping, working hard, and I kissed her on the cheek, and she told me to cut off a lock of her own hair, as a memoir, and so I did,'' The lady reached into her bag and carefully lifted a clear, acrylic box, inside of which was seen her mother's lock of hair.

I nodded gently, and said, ''Resume your story, Madam,'' And she did, ''Well then, with the lock of hair in possession as my only reminder of Mamma, the woman who had sacrificed herself for her child, for she pushed me into that pantry cupboard when she heard Papa enter the house, possibly predicting the forthcoming danger, and so, I will remember her always in my heart, whenever I am struggling and working hard for my life, I remember Mamma.''

She ended her story and she was now weeping uncontrollably, and I took her hands and hugged her tight, for I knew how she felt, and I knew how to comfort people who are feeling unfortunate things.

After that faithful night, me and her became very good friends, and I lived in that safe, refugee camp, free from laws and rules, and living the best life I've ever had since Mother and Father died.

We ate and washed in the morning, cooked and played games together in the bright sunshine of noon, had tea and supper in the long, cloudy afternoons, and sang songs at dinnertime 'round the fire.

I loved living there, and ended up marrying and having kids with one of the accomplished men there, and we lived happily ever after.

THE END