Sweet Victoria

The structure was set in stone. An old, partly demolished thing that had stood for ages and ages. Dust gathered over it, the path leading to it had giant craters crumbling the stone into irregular uneven edges that was slippery in the rains, and would make a person fall even without the rains unless you were careful.

Beside the stone building hung a tent. The tent was kept clean despite what it looked from the outside.

It was light in the morning and dark in the night.

Inside the tent, was a little table. There was a lamp on the table. The lamp gave light in the long nights. In front of the table sat a little girl.

Her thread sifted with dexterity to create patterns on the pant. Her sharp eyes were fixed on her needlework and she sewed and sewed, never in a hurry. Her strong mouth was set hard, and each time it prickled and tensed as she pricked the needle through the cloth and carried the thread upward into the air.

She was barely ten years old. Her eyes never hurt, they became sharper still.

That aside, she had few purchasers for the fabric she made.

Fewer purchasers admired her more than her handiwork.

For she was sweet, though she barely spoke. Her eyes would follow her visitors, as they left their shoes out in the cold and entered barefeet. Her eyes quietly followed them take a seat and she would lightly fashion the kind of pattern that would suit the person best in her mind before she materialised it into cloth. All in a blink of inspiration. Yes, she was talented. More than that, she could grasp not the inner workings of the mind of the individual, but the feel of the person.

Every day was the same. A time of monotonous concentration which did not seem so to her. She did not love her work but she worked at it assiduously. She never showed her nature but it sprung from inside when she was thoroughly involved herself in her work.

"Hello," said James.

"Care to make something for me?" James asked.

She lit the lamp and nodded, studiously studying him.

James was a sweet person. She saw his nature reflected in hers - but only in the second visit when she presented to him the first piece of khaki pants he said he liked.

He was simple, but dull. Everyone who got to know him for more than a while said to each other that he had a good heart, a person more of feeling than of intelligence. No one knew of the slight longing and a gentle pain that he hid in his heart.

She would not take the money he offered so kindly and so he presented her with a bell that tinkled softly. It calmed her and when with James it made her feel like she was in presence of a kindred spirit.

James was middle-aged and would come to visit her sometimes and then often. Sometimes just to see the child he didn't have, sometimes just to talk to a friend.

"Sweet Victoria," he called her.

The bell tinkled merrily when James came in, a sound that raised her spirits unlike other days when it just calmed her.

"Sweet Victoria," he said. "Today I have an order for you."

Victoria looked at him keenly.

"I'm getting married soon and you have to find the right pair of trousers for me!"

The bell tinkled merrily as he left happily, but left in her a tinge of wistful sadness. She had promised him to get his trousers sewed and ready day after tomorrow.

Her mouth pursed, she sewed the entire time. She didn't sleep for a day and a half. She stayed awake with the lamp burning at night, the sun burning in the morning.

Finished with her art of the trousers she had sewed, she fell asleep on the table, exhausted.

James came in shortly.

He saw Victoria's little feet curled up against her body in a ball, her hands covering her head which rested over the finished trousers on the table. She was snoring, her breaths light and loud.

"Sweet Victoria," he called out and nudged her lightly.

Victoria woke up with a start and said, "I didn't see you coming. Here are the trousers I promised."

James shook his head. "It's alright."

"Sweet Victoria," he said quietly. "Come to my wedding."

Victoria looked at him hard and true and nodded.

James held her hand and walked out of the tent. Her small hand cupped the inside of his palm perfectly. She was a little thing beside him.

James walked her to the aisle in an open field where the priest and the bride waited. The trousers were forgotten in the tent.

The bride in the white dress came and hugged her and warmth too embraced the little Victoria. The pretty but freckled mouth suddenly uttered the words, "Sweet Victoria!" Victoria noticed her face emanating a soft glow as she touched her cheek. Victoria felt a newfound warmth inside her.

"James told me he found you in the tent and here you are at our wedding, a little child older than her years!"

Victoria had a feeling of deja vu - the feeling she had as a child of four being left by her father - the last time she thought she would feel like a child.

"James told me you are the only other person he loves."

Victoria started.

"He loves me?" Victoria asked.

"You and his mother," she said and laughed.

"And me - he's getting at," she added.

James kissed her softly on the cheek and said, "I have already reached there, today."

"Sweet Victoria," James said, "sit with us as Marmie and I wed."

And with that, music filled the air as the choir started singing and they got married.

Soon, Marmie pulled Victoria close to her and placed her hand on her belly. "We have a present for you."

Victoria felt a kick.

"Your sister," she whispered.

Victoria quitely but firmly shook her head.

"I shouldn't," she said. Tears appeared, threatened to overflow.

"Why!" James exclaimed.

"Why?" Marmie asked softly, earnestly.

"Because," Victoria sobbed, "I already have a father, somewhere, thinking about me, working for me, wanting to look after me. Has he forgotten me over the years since when he left? I don't know - but I know he loved me , that his love was not paltry but the kind that sticks forever."

James stayed quiet for a long time. He realized that might be the reason a highly strung child like her wanted some quiet in her life.

Victoria stopped sobbing. Like a child she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and she hugged James.

"Please keep visiting me!" she said, broke the hug and ran.

She entered the tent and found the trousers on her work station. She was exhausted and cried a little. Nothing exhausts one more than emotions long left untouched. Nothing exhausts one more than emotions newfound.

Underneath the trousers, there was a book in which there was a note attached :-

"Sweet Victoria. When you were five years old, I saw you eating your first slice of mango - the pulp of your fingers softly digging into the fruit and you nibbling at it, savouring it slowly. And when the slice fell to the ground, you didn't cry. You picked it up and said to yourself, 'Well that can't be helped' and left it alone. When you climbed onto a tree and were about to fall, you jumped - pushing your feet against the tree instead, even though you broke your hand. I am glad I saw you when I did, loved you for who you are but not for whatever reason my love for you appeared. I am not your lost father but I am glad I could have been."

The book was called "When blessings fleetingly touches the heart."

Victoria rung the bell - it tinkled sweetly. She sighed and held the book to her heart and breathed, "No matter where I be, the stars will shine above your head in the nights, the sun will shine over your head in the days and blessings will shower upon us your wonder that holds true everyday. I know, and so you will believe one day."