POETRY CORNER: Be Grateful

Be Grateful

by Connie Hartley

Tis the season to be grateful
For family and friends around the table

Count your blessings as days go by
Life can change in the blink of an eye

Cherish those close to your heart
Never allow distance to keep you apart

Celebrate the moments and hold them near
As you grow older it will all become clear

The joy you share with others each day
Will be captured as memories and will stay

Within their thoughts of special times
When you gathered together being so kind

As you give thanks for all that comes your way
Always be grateful and offer thoughtful words to say

POETRY CORNER: Holiday Nights

Holiday Nights

Written by Connie Hartley

The sky is filled with beautiful lights
Sparkling brightly through the night

Holiday music fills the air
Love and happiness everywhere

Horse and sleigh are ready to carry
Happy couples singing merrily

Through the snow-covered hills
Snuggled together so not to be chilled

There is a special feeling that fills the air
One that leaves you without a care

Signs of blessings all around
As family and friends gather in the town

To sing in joyous harmony
Underneath that wondrous Christmas tree

POEM: Ode to Albion

Kristin Frangoulis was honored when asked to write a poem to celebrate Albion’s 200th birthday. This is what she authored.

ODE TO ALBION
IN CELEBRATION
OF HER 200TH BIRTHDAY

Albion’s fields roll lush and green,
Surely a farmer’s perfect dream.

Orange day lilies and white Queen Ann’s lace
Line the roadsides with a beautiful grace.

The town center boasts a church and a school
Where the good folks practice the old Golden Rule.

Dow’s General Store is a friendly quick stop
Where one can buy food or a new mop.

In 1790 the pioneers came
To plow the land, and the wilderness tame.

Lovejoys, Shoreys, Crosbys, to name a few
Claimed the land and admired the view.

Followed by Drakes, Besseys and Prays,
Chalmers and Skillins, helped pave the way.

Forgive me, for others not mentioned this time,
It’s only because their names do not rhyme.

They planted the fields, set up saw mills,
Built their sturdy homes with sweat and God’s will.

Freetown Plantation was your first name,
Then Fairfax, Lagonia, all titled in vain.

Then in the winter of 1824,
Albion was named the town we adore.

Elijah Lovejoy, a man of good fame,
Died a martyr in pursuit of his aims.

He fought for the freedom of men and the press,
To make all souls free that were opressed.

Albion once was a railroad junction,
Thanks to George Crosby’s steam gauge invention.

George built a mansion in Italianate style,
With indoor plumbing, marble and tile.

Alas, it burned in a great conflagration,
Nothing is left from this sad tribulation.

Mickey Marden, another Albion name
Was proud founder of his discounted chain.

Today, many farms still do abound,
Where cows, horses, chickens, goats can be found.

Christmas trees, maple syrup, honey blueberries,
Johnny’s Seeds and the Czech Out Bakery.

Albion, you ‘re the best place to call home, sweet home,
No matter how far we wander and roam.

FICTION: The House, part 12: THE BIG REVEAL (conclusion)

This story is completely fictional. Any resemblances to names of people and/or places is purely coincidental.

by Peg Pellerin

Click here for the previous installment.

THE BIG REVEAL

As the police and medical examiners were led closer to the possible gravesite they could feel the sponginess of the ground. On a whim, Dave backed off and started walking toward the Jebediah Hodges statue. The ground felt solid. He informed all of his findings. “I guess that we were all centered on the possibility that Ian could have been buried near his statue that we didn’t think about his father.”

“I checked with the Midia’s cemetery office and both Mr. & Mrs. Hodges are buried there, but no one else from the family is there, so there is a very good possibility that the child was buried here,” Jake stated.

As Chief Meuller shifted his weight around the softened ground, he scooched down to see where Miri’s foot had sunk in. “It does look like there might be some void under the ground. It would make it much quicker to find out if anything or anyone is buried there if the state owned a ground penetrating radar, but we can get a loan of GPR from a private company, which takes time to get and is also expensive. We don’t get one unless we feel it is necessary.”

Jake said, “We were about to start digging ourselves until we felt it might be necessary to call in law enforcement. This ground doesn’t look like it would be difficult to dig up. Dave and I can go back to the carriage house to get shovels and a wheelbarrow, if that’s okay with you.”

Chief Meuller glanced over to the forensic technicians to see what they thought and they nodded their approval. “If a child was buried here over 150 years ago, there won’t be much, but enough for us to bring back to the lab. By the feel of the ground, I think you guys can do it and if you have extra shovels, we can help,” said Technician Simpson, referring to himself and the chief of police.

“Depending on what you find, I can start sifting through the dirt for any signs of bones and other artifacts that may have been buried. Alan, come back to the van with me to get the equipment we’ll need while they go get their tools,” said Miss Maitland.

Everyone went off in their own direction while Miri and Amy stayed in the garden sitting on the granite bench. “I can’t wait until this is over,” said Miri. “I thought it was over after the Christmas event. I told Jake but I didn’t say anything to either you or Dave but I’ve been hearing Ian, maybe in dreams, asking to be brought to his father.”

“Maybe he has been contacting you since you were the first one to sense his presence back in June. He trusts you,” replied Amy as she put her arm around Miri’s shoulders consoling her.

As everyone returned to the potential grave site, Miri and Amy offered their services, and when it looked like they weren’t needed, they went back to the house to prepare sandwiches and beverages for the working crew. It took less than twenty minutes to get down to what appeared to be a rotted wooden box. The more they uncovered it, the more it looked like it was once a casket about five feet in length. This was where the forensic technicians became more involved, slowly taking the wooden container apart, they handed it over to the gloved men to be put aside on a laid out tarp.

“Oh my stars,” said Connie as Alan let out a whistle. Chief Meuller, and the others looked down the hole where the forensic experts were to see a well laid out small skeleton. Miri started to weep uncontrollably. Ian had been found.

“Tom, thank you for coming to help me. Please bring me to my father.” The Chief asked if anyone heard what he had just heard or was it his imagination.

The forensic people didn’t hear anything, but the other four did! “Welcome to being included in Ian’s circle,” said Jake. “He apparently thinks you’re the handyman of his time since you look so much like him.”

It was a cool fall day but Chief Meuller took out a handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. “If I hadn’t believed you folks before, I certainly do now.”

Several days had gone by since the exhumation had been completed. While everyone waited to find out what the lab could deem was the cause of death and if, in fact, the remains were that of a child, Jake and Miri made arrangements with the cemetery officials to have Ian buried with his parents. When the townsfolk got wind of what was found many came forward to offer to help pay for the burial and a marker. Through the ages it was known that if it had not been for Mr. Hodges, their town probably would not have survived. He had been very generous in helping the businesses and several of the townsfolk in the area. About three weeks later the news from the state forensics lab came back to Chief Tom Meuller who in turn brought the news to the foursome. From the pieces of fabric that were found with the body’s remains, as well as the thorough examination of the bones, it was found that this was in fact a child between twelve to fifteen years of age and had died around the 1840s. What they hadn’t expected to find was a dent in the back of the small skull. It appeared that the cause of death was a blow to the back of the head.

“I can’t believe that this was anything else but accidental,” Miri said. “Even though Emma was eccentric, she seemed to love her son.

“I don’t know,” replied Dave. “From what we saw through those years of Christmases her axis wasn’t placed centrally. She seemed to have a mean streak in those last few years.”

“No, I don’t think she would have harmed Ian, not intentionally anyway. We saw how much weaker he was getting and he couldn’t even climb the stairs anymore. Maybe he tried to go get one of his toys that she had hidden upstairs and he fell,” said Miri “Either way, Ian will be at rest and next to his father soon.”

A small graveside service was planned but it seemed as if the entire town showed up to pay their respects and to give Miri, Jake, Amy, and Dave some type of support after they had heard of some of the things they had gone through since they purchased the house back in June. As everyone was leaving the cemetery snow bugs, as Miri and Jake remembered their father calling the little bit of snow flurries, were descending upon everyone. It seemed that Ian wouldn’t be spending another winter alone. He was now between his mother and father.

THE STEWART B&B IS NOW OPEN

Six months after the Stewarts purchased the loan for the B&B, the first Christmas was celebrated. Two weeks prior to the holiday, a somewhat familiar scene took place. Miri was able to find a recipe for Wassail, tea cakes and raspberry tarts. The home had a marvelous scent to anyone coming in. There was a knock at the door and when Amy opened it, there stood two guys covered with snow carrying in a six foot balsam. “Shake yourselves off before coming in and the tree as well,” she instructed.

Jake and Dave sighed, did as they were instructed and Jake asked where they wanted the tree to be placed. Miri, coming out of the kitchen said, “Where do you think? Right where we saw it and once it’s placed in the stand I put in that corner, I have warm refreshments for you.”

“Smells like that vision we saw,” said Dave.

“That’s because I made what Emma had made.”

“It smells delicious,” commented Jake as his stomach also made a comment.

After everyone was sated, and the tree had time to dry out, decorations were brought out. Pictures, rather than memory, was what they needed to make replicas of what they saw on the Hodges tree so they Google searched decorations for Christmas trees of the Victorian era and specifically looked up Christmas in Pennsylvania since it was the Germans who brought that tradition to the United States. Once the tree was decorated, Dave, being the tallest, was asked to put the final piece onto the tree. Ian’s star was placed on the top. “This is for you Ian,” Miri said with a bit of a leak of the eyes. When she looked at the others, their eyes were leaking as well.

By April Dave was able to complete the renovations required to make the B&B ready for opening. In the meantime, Jake was able to find buyers of the antique furniture they weren’t going to utilize and used the money to purchase items to make the B&B functional. Someone in town was very interested in setting up a small museum dedicated to the Hodges. The items that brought several exciting adventures for the foursome plus the spectral child were donated to the museum with no chance of any more hauntings happening. Ian told Miri that once he was at rest with his parents he would leave them alone, and he did. Other items from the house were also placed there.

It took a lot of exertion to groom the garden to a beautiful area for folks to roam around in or just sit and relax. Since the statues of Mr. Hodges and his son weren’t part of Jake’s and Miri’s plans for the garden, Jake asked if the curator of the new museum would want the statues of Mr. Hodges and his son. He didn’t have the room but had an idea that he brought up to the town, who loved his idea. The statues were carefully moved to the town park where a couple of granite benches and an arbor were placed, somewhat imitating the garden. Amy was going to use the garden often to photograph special events that might take place at the B&B as well as high school senior pictures and the statues just didn’t seem to fit in. With the B&B renovations completed, Dave now had time to spend on the carriage house which he wanted to recondition so the outside looked the same but there would be a spacious modern apartment on the second floor, and the tack room on the main floor would be renovated to become Amy’s photography studio.

The opening of the B&B was set for May 6 with its first event, a wedding, the wedding of Dave and Amy. They wanted a small wedding so guests of the wedding that required a place to stay were the first to use the inn. Weather permitting, the wedding would be held in the garden, but if not, the B&B could handle it in the spacious living room. The spacious dining room would handle the reception and the small sitting room, turned into the inn’s guests’ breakfast area, could handle the overflow. Miri’s vision of the porch came to life with beautiful flower baskets hanging in several areas.

June 20 was the last day of school and Miri’s last day as a third grade teacher. Her time would be spent managing the B&B with help from her husband when he wasn’t performing his principal duties and Amy would also be helping in between her photography appointments.

A year had gone by since the purchase of this beautiful Victorian home and much had happened in that year. The death of a child long ago allowed the occupants to better understand the place but also brought it life. Stewart’s B&B was finally open and bustling.

THE END

Author’s comments: I hope you enjoyed this story. I would not have been able to accomplish this feat without my own personal editor, my boyfriend, Edgar Cormier. Thank you Roland Hallee, managing editor of this newspaper for allowing me to have this story published. I had so much fun writing this story and am now trying to think of another topic to write about.

FICTION: The House, part 11 (continued)

This story is completely fictional. Any resemblances to names of people and/or places is purely coincidental.

by Peg Pellerin

Click here for the previous installment.

“I thought you wanted to get to the carriage house after our house,” commented Jake.

“I do, but sometimes a guy just has to do something different once in a while. Amy has been thinking that your garden, once cleaned up, would make a great place for wedding pictures, high school senior pictures…you get the picture,” said Dave laughing at his own pun.

Slapping his forehead at the witticism, Jake replied, “Yeah we get it and I think it a great idea. I could actually start working on some of that clearing myself. You’ve been working steady on the renovations. It’s time I do something more useful around here.”

Sunday morning started out with the four filling up on apple, blueberry and cranberry pancakes. Both men commented on how they loved the combination and that they were a definite ‘do again’. “I think I’m going to go look at the garden area and get a feel of what we can do with the place,” mentioned Jake. “Want to take a stroll, Miri?”

They both dressed for walking among the overgrown briers to see what the garden really had to offer. They started walking around the area in opposite directions, looking at what could be kept and what would need to go. The area near the arbor seemed to be clear of overgrowth of any kind. It would need replacing if they decided to have one since it was made of wood and rotting. The benches, being made of granite, were still in great shape and would definitely be utilized, but the two stone statues had to go. “I just don’t think those fit well here anymore,” said Miri with Jake agreeing with her.

As Miri started walking closer to Ian’s statue, her foot sank, nearly causing her to sprain her ankle and causing her to fall on her butt. Jake ran to her after hearing her cry out. “Are you alright? What happened?” He asked, immediately looking over her ankle after seeing her rubbing it.

“I sank into the ground,” she answered. “My ankle is sore but I don’t think any damage was done. I’m more startled than anything else.”

They looked down at the mini sinkhole and they could feel more of the ground ready to give way to any pressure on it. Stepping back, they looked at each other questioningly. Miri looked to the statue of Ian and back to the ground. “You don’t think that…”

“I’m going back to the carriage house to get a shovel. I’ll let Dave and Amy know what we may have found,” said Jake without allowing Miri to finish verbally saying what she thought was causing the earth to sink.

Within ten minutes, Jake, Dave and Amy returned with the guys armed with a scoop shovel and flat shovel, as well as a wheel barrow.

They found Miri sitting on one of the granite benches with her face in her hands. “He talked to me. Ian asked me to not leave him and to bring him to his father. I believe he is buried there,” she whimpered as she pointed to the hole.

Dave was the first to respond, “If this is an unmarked grave, maybe we need to call in the police just to make sure everything is done legally. If he was buried there, he’ll be exhumed and reburied with his parents. Jake, do you know if they were buried in the town’s cemetery?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I can find out. I’ll call the police and we’ll go from there. Miri, are you sure you heard Ian?”

“After everything we’ve all gone through for, and with him, I’m positive,” she replied.

Instead of digging any further, they all returned to the house, returning the tools to the carriage house. Jake immediately called Midia’s police department, as well as the local cemetery’s office. He found out that there was a Jebediah and Emma Hodges buried in the older sedition of the cemetery but there was no record of anyone else from the family buried there. “How could she have done that?” Miri asked, referring to Ian’s mother. From what we saw and heard of those Christmases long ago, I am thinking that she was a vengeful, not right in the head woman.”

“She did seem a bit of a wackadoodle, but to not give your son a proper burial…” commented Amy, finishing what Miri was saying by shaking her head.

“I’m not sure when the police will arrive but I believe sometime today. Since this might be involving a body, they are calling the state examiner’s office and they might show up together,” informed Jake.

The police cruiser, with a state police forensic services unit van behind them, drove up the driveway nearly three hours later. They found the four occupants of the house sitting on the porch. Jake reached over to shake the hand of Midia’s Chief of police. “I’m Chief Tom Meuller and here are Connie Maitland, the state’s head of the forensic division of the state police, and her assistant, Alan Simpson. I don’t know what I just said, but you folks look like you’ve seen a ghost,” remarked the Chief.

“In a way we have,” replied Jake. ” By any chance, did you have a distant relative that lived in this house?” he asked of the Chief who was a spitting image of Tom Meuller who was the Hodges handyman that they all saw during the ghostly Christmas events that they had experienced.

Chief Meuller replied, “As a matter of fact, I believe a great granddaddy back eight generations ago, was the handyman for the Hodges. I was named after him. Why do you ask?”

“You have no idea,” said Miri. She looked over to Jake who gave her a nod to continue. Miri decided to give Chief Meuller a summary of what they had experienced since moving in back in June. “Do you know anything about the original family of this house and property?” asked Miri of the Chief.

“Not really, only rumors that were passed down through the family, and you know how rumors go, especially generation after generation,” He replied.

“What kind of rumors?” asked Miri not to skip a beat.

“Oh, hauntings, and that the lady of the house was looney,” answered the Chief. “Like I said, the usual rumors. As a law enforcement officer, I’m supposed to keep an open mind about things but this definitely is quite a story,” said the Chief, taking off his hat and rubbing his forehead. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I sort of believe in some paranormal things, but this is a first for me in this area. Let’s go see what we have.” All continued to walk to the garden. “The place looks great, by the way,” he commented. Looks like you guys did a lot of work. Hope the B&B works out for you. It will bring some business to the town as well.”

The four led the law enforcement team to the garden and the softened earth.that’s okay with you.” – To be continued

Local author captures award

Michelle Shores

Local Maine Author, Michelle E. Shores, of Waterville, whose recently published book The Gathering Room – A Tale of Nelly Butler, has been awarded a 2023 IPPY AWARD for Best Fiction in the Northeast Region, Bronze Medal.

The Independent Publisher Book Awards, commonly known as the IPPY Awards, are a prestigious set of awards that recognize excellence in independent publishing. They have been held annually since 1996 and aim to highlight the best independently published books in a variety of categories.

The Gathering Room – A Tale of Nelly Butler brings to life, in fiction, the dramatic account of the first documented ghost sighting in America which occurred in Maine in 1799. Based on a true story, Michelle’s work weaves an epic tale of what the lives of George and Nelly Butler might have been like as they faced the supernatural in the form of a young girl, Lydia Blaisdell. Set in Sullivan and Franklin in Downeast Maine this is a haunting story that captivates the reader from the start.

Since its release in September 2022, The Gathering Room – A Tale of Nelly Butler has been a top selling book for Maine Authors Publishing located, in Thomaston. The book has sold in every state in the U.S. as well as Canada and the United Kingdom. Highly rated on Amazon, it is available in paperback and Kindle. Until recently, Michelle was the advertising manager for the Maine Tourism Association but had to give up her full-time job to meet the demands of this best-selling book. Michelle is willing to discuss her book, her journey into self publishing and being a bronze medalist in the IPPY Awards for Best Fiction in the Northeast.

For more information, contact Michelle at writerinmaine@gmail.com or 207-944-8361 or check out her website https://www.mshoreswriter.com/ or on all social media @mshoreswriter.

I’M JUST CURIOUS: Worries to colors

by Debbie Walker

Two women, Mary and Sue met on the sidewalk and started chatting. Mary is pretty well settled in her life; Sue is in the middle of a lot of life changes and is in fact, troubled. She decided to share some of her confusion with Mary. After talking for a while Mary told Sue, “I know just what you need to do, it’s helped me in the past”.

So Mary gives Sue an address of a woman she had met with on several occasions in the past. Mary explained that this lady lives on the corner of a well-established street and some of her neighbors are not very happy with her. They call her Mrs. Flowers because her landscaping is “over-run”, in their opinion, with flowers growing everywhere.

Mary said there was no need to call first, in fact, she didn’t know if Mrs. Flowers even had a phone. Just knock on her door with a plant in your hand and introduce yourself. She will welcome you inside with a wave of her hand.

She thought this was all rather strange. She was to go to this woman’s house, not even knowing her real name and just knock. Well, Mary did assure her she would be welcome.

The next day Sue went to a local nursery and bought a little flowering plant. She followed Mary’s directions to the house; she found it with no problem at all. The description of Mrs. Flowers was understated as Sue tried to take in all the different colors.

Sue took her time walking to the door, taking in all the sites and fragrances. She reached the door and tapped gently. In just a few seconds the door came open and she was greeted by Mrs. Flowers, a much older lady. She welcomed Sue into her home and put the flowers on the table. It was a smaller cottage type home and decorated with: you guessed it: Flowers.

As they walked to the living room Sue tried to take in all the sites inside this wonderful cozy home where she immediately felt at ease. Mrs. Flowers said, “Come on in, find a comfortable spot to sit and we’ll chat. Tell me what’s on your mind today”.

Sue described to Mrs. Flowers how she was going through all these changes in her life. She was recently divorced after a 40 yar marriage, her children were grown and scattered across the country, and she has just taken on a new job. She said , “I am feeling overwhelmed”.

They discussed her problems and at some point, Mrs. Flowers was referring to Sue’s problems, as opportunities. She explained that all of what Sue saw as problems, she saw them as opportunities to learn and grow with fewer limitations.

The divorce would allow her to concentrate on herself and things she might want to change. Sue had said she hated grocery shopping anymore. She found it difficult because she knew what her kids and husband would want for meals, but she had no idea what to buy for herself. It felt lonely. Mrs. Flowers explained that it was a wonderful opportunity to try new foods.

Her home felt lonely. Mrs. Flowers suggested Sue might try her hand at redecorating and please herself with her choices. At that point Sue looked around and realized she had already thought of a couple of things Mrs. Flowers had done here that she might like to try at her own home.

Sue’s new job was an opportunity to meet new people and to use her skills of running her home to operating a business. Some of the skills needed for this job were very similar to a schedule to run a business with.

Their chat had done wonders for Sue, she no longer felt overwhelmed and in fact she had things running through her mind that she was looking forward to doing with her new opportunities.

On their way to the door Mrs. Flower’s picked up the new plant Sue had brought, and her little shovel and they walked out into the yard. Mrs. Flowers dug the hole necessary for the plant. She told Sue, “Your flower represents the problems you came here with. Now they represent worries changed to colors.

As Sue looked over the yard, she realized at one time all these colors had been someone else’s worries. She walked out the driveway knowing that one thing she wanted to do was start her own flower garden.

Problems can be opportunities.
Worries can become colors
It’s all in how you look at things.

FICTION: The House, part 10: Visions of Christmas past (continued)

This story is completely fictional. Any resemblances to names of people and/or places is purely coincidental.

by Peg Pellerin

Click here for the previous installment.

Excitement started to show on the boy’s face. He seemed to always enjoy anything to do with his father, especially whatever his father would give or send him. He quickly unwrapped the package and found a toy replica of the train engine Tom Thumb. He immediately tried to push it across the floor and his mother reprimanded him to not scratch the flooring. You can tell that she, yet again, was displeased with her husband’s choice of gift. Actually she never seemed pleased with anything to do with her husband and did not hold back how she felt about her son. “Why your father gets you those types of gifts is beyond me.” Ian did his best to ignore her.

“Wow, what a grump!” commented Dave in a hushed tone, thinking that the people in the visions would hear him. He remembered sitting in the cramped spaces on the train ride that were pulled by the real Tom Thumb style engine.

The vision changed, once again, to another Christmas with Ian not looking much older, probably only another year. The tree was much smaller with less decorations but the star was still the major attraction of the room. There were less gifts under the tree. Another set of mittens and hat as well as stockings. There was no coat since Ian probably didn’t need another one. He hadn’t grown much if at all since the last coat his mother had made for him. He looked much weaker as he sat in his chair beside the table that held his cookie and cup of wassail, which looked to not have been touched. “Here’s a gift from your father. He apparently had it shipped from India, where he’s too busy hunting down tigers rather than being here with his family,” barked Mrs. Hodges.

As usual, Ian tried to ignore her but you could tell her demeanor wasn’t good for him at all. Ian quickly took the wrapping off the package. A thin dark leather box was before him. He carefully opened it and found the content to be a brass and leather spyglass. It took some time before he decided to take it out of the beautiful box. His eyes shone with cheer or were those tears he was trying to hold back. In a barely audible voice, he said, “I miss my father.” He picked up the object and started looking around the room through its lens. Tom happened to come in and the boy immediately called out to him to show what his father had sent him.

Tom showed happiness for the boy, “I bet you’ll be able to see a lot of things in the trees looking through that spyglass. It’s mighty pretty.” In the absence of his father, Tom came to pay Ian more attention feeling he needed to have some manly or father figure in the house and Mrs. Hodges didn’t seem to mind since while her son was occupied she could go about doing her business within the house.

“Well, this is the first time I think your father gave you something you can actually use. Tom is right, you’ll be able to look at many things outside in the distance without leaving the house, especially in these cold times.”

“Ahoy matey,” whispered Dave to the other three, all recalling the time on the cutter with a pirate ship not far away.

The last vision was a very somber one. There was no tree, no tea cake or tart and no wassail. Ian was probably around eleven years old. He was sitting in the chair with the star in his hands. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I miss you so much father,” he said to no one in particular.

The four weren’t sure if Ian was allowing them to see this next vision but they saw him when his father was brought home after being attacked by a tiger in India, he was placed in a bed in one of the upstairs rooms.

Ian was ordered by his mother to not visit his father because his father needed a lot of rest due to the injuries, which were severe. Every so often, the boy would sneak into the room to talk with his father. While his father still had any strength he would tell him about his adventures in hunting wild game. “Ian, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t always here for you, especially last Christmas. Please forgive me. I love you very much.” They both held hands and wept.

I told you to never come into this room to bother your father,” She yelled as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the room.That was the last time Ian saw his father. The vision returned to the boy sitting in the living room.

Tom walked by with what appeared to be a tubular object wrapped in heavy paper. “It isn’t much, but I came across this and I know you like horses.”

Ian carefully removed the paper and asked Tom to help him unroll the object. It was a poster of an Equestrian show that had occurred in New York the past summer. It showed a beautiful stallion with a rider in costume sitting on a saddle holding onto the reins as the stallion was vaulting. “I thought you could hang it in your room and look at the horse whenever you like,” explained Tom of the present.

“Thank you so much Tom. I love it and the horse is beautiful. Will you hang it in my room for me?”

“I would be glad to, Ian.”

“What have you there,?” cried out Mr. Hodges. She looked at the poster and asked Tom why he would give something like that to her son. He explained that he knew her son liked horses and when he happened to come across the poster, he thought of Ian and got it for him.

“I asked Tom to hang it in my room so I can look at the horse.”

I don’t care what you do with it, just don’t put it where I’ll see it, ” she demanded and walked out of the room.

Ian gave Tom an extra special hug and thanked him.

“Why is she so mean?” Asked Ian. I think she hates me. She has taken all of the things my father gave me and has hidden them. When I asked what she did with them she said she put them away for safekeeping. I think since I’m not strong enough to climb the stairs to go play in the rooms, she has hidden them up there. Ian looked around to make sure his mother wasn’t close enough to see or hear what he was about to do or say. “Tom, would you do me a large favor and hide this star somewhere in my old room upstairs? I’m afraid that she’ll take that away from me as well and I don’t want her to destroy it. I hope, someday, someone worthy of it will find it and put it on their tree.”

Tom replied, holding back tears for the boy, ” I don’t think she hates you, Ian. I think she hates how her life has turned upside down. When she and your father married, she was very spoiled. He bought her many things and brought her to many places. When he started becoming more involved with his business and venturing to meetings as well as game hunting, he left her alone often. She wasn’t getting things she wanted and started becoming resentful. I was hoping as time went on she would become accustomed to how things were, especially once you came into her life. She spent so much time with you, enjoying doing things for you. I thought she had turned a new leaf, but I saw she’d have to turn over a new tree. I’ll take care of the star for you,” Ian put the star back into the box and gave it to the kind man who had befriended him in his father’s absence and watched him go up the stairs.

The vision ended. There were no further Christmas visions.

The four found themselves in the large bedroom where they had found the star. All faces were wet with tears and felt for the spectral boy that had given them grief while unknowingly they had given him joy. “I wonder what would happen if we kept this star, maybe to put it on our Christmas tree,” said Jake.

Miri wiped her eyes and said matter of factly, “Ian wants us to keep it and there will be no further events.”

THE BEGINNING OF FALL IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

A new school year had begun. Jake greeted new students and staff as well as welcoming back the old ones to his high school. Miri received twenty new students to her third grade. It was a large class but she looked forward to getting to know every single one of them. It would be a welcome change after the harrowing events she, and the others, at the house went through during the summer. Meanwhile, Dave continued with the renovations of the individual bedrooms at the house to bring them up to par for a B & B guest room and Amy, his fiancee, continued with her photography business, and looking forward to helping Miri with the B&B once it was opened. She would still continue her photography business hoping that the B&B would bring her more business from weddings and reunions. Once the B&B renovations were completed, Dave hoped to get to the renovations of the carriage house, turning the second floor into a spacious apartment for he and Amy. All in good time.

All appeared to be getting back to a normal routine for the four, however, every so often, Miri would have dreams of Ian calling out to her stating that he was cold and wanted to be closer to his father. The dreams were confusing but she tried to put them out of her mind. There were no visions, only the child’s voice. This went on for about a month, and finally, on a Friday evening in October she finally broke down and told her husband. “I really thought after the last event we had that all of this would be behind us; behind me,” she said, appearing to be in a melancholy mood.

“Maybe it’s still bothering you because you were the first to be aware of the child, after reading those diaries,” Jake said trying to console his wife. “We need a diversion. I know what we can do! Since it’s a long weekend thanks to Indigenous Peoples’ Day on Monday We could go apple picking. I recently read in a local paper that a favorite fall activity in the Poconos, without a doubt, is apple picking with many varieties to choose from. It’s such a fun way to spend some quality time with friends and family while enjoying that fresh autumn air and hearing that crunch of leaves under your feet. So, why don’t we go spend some of that quality time at the local orchard. I bet Dave and Amy would love to join us. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend, why don’t we go tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a great idea and I hope it helps me put Ian to the very back of my mind; so far back that he never comes forward again.” said Miri hopefully.

The four visited a couple of nearby orchards, each with delicious varieties of apples. The two women could be heard talking about which apples would be best for pies and other pastries that they would love to make for the B&B once opened. “Hey, don’t forget we two love being your guinea pigs,” laughed Dave. “They would need some work, but I think you have some type of apple trees on your property in the back of the garden, which by the way, I’d love to start clearing once I get the renovations to the house completed.”

To be continued

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY: A Mother’s Day poem

by Roberta Barnes

Mom you are my rainbow,
even on those days when the sun is blocked from view.

Rainbows suddenly appearing on my wall
remind me that though mothers come both short and tall.

There is one thing they all share.
giving love and support to which nothing can compare.

In the middle of the rainbow between the yellow and blue
is the green of healing that to a mother’s nature is so true.

I can never give enough thanks for all the love
that has carried me above troubled waters as if on the wings of a strong dove.

The calendar marks but one day a year
yet it is every day that I remember how you have hushed all my fear.

Never can I in words say
how your strength and love has gotten me through the most distressed day.

Thank you for always helping me make my path clear
and in my heart I will always hold you dear.

FICTION: The House, part 10: Visions of Christmas Past

This story is completely fictional. Any resemblances to names of people and/or places is purely coincidental.

by Peg Pellerin

Click here for the previous installment.

They decided to call it a day and attempt to tackle the last room and ‘adventure’ the next day.

The following morning Jake said, “Wonder what we’ll find in our final room,” while the four were enjoying a waffle/egg sandwich, compliments of Miri and Amy’s creative cooking. They were still trying different things that they would hope to serve guests in the future and the guys didn’t mind testing them out.

“I don’t know,” replied Miri, “but I, for one, will be glad to have it over so we can get back to our normal lives.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

They stood in front of the sixth room, the final room to be searched for something that belonged to the young spectral boy. They took a deep breath, signaled each other that they were ready to enter and went in. For some reason this room seemed a tad larger than the others. It was filled with several pieces of furniture that could be considered child-sized. There was a dry sink, bureau, armoire, an adult-sized rocking chair next to a child-sized one, and a bed. Everything was in near perfect condition as if it was still being used except the dust on everything showed it hadn’t been for many years.

“Wow, this is amazing,” said Amy in wonderment. “Could this have been Ian’s bedroom?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Miri. “When we started moving in and preparing the two bedrooms, ours and Dave’s, the one Dave has was nearly identical to this one so we assumed it was the child’s bedroom being closeby to the parents’. Maybe this one was in anticipation of another child, which never happened. ”

As they walked around looking over everything, they nearly forgot why they were in the room in the first place. Dave was the first to ‘wake’ up and started searching. The others followed his lead. Jake opened the doors to the armoire, which appeared to be empty. As he was about to close the doors, something caught his eye. He bent down to peer into the back bottom left corner of the cabinet and found a square wooden box, which was about 7 inches by 7 inches. “I think I found it or at least something,” he called out to the others who immediately surrounded him. He wasn’t sure if he should open it but they did want to get whatever event was about to happen over with. Holding his breath, he slid the cover off the box. Within was a beautiful star.

“What a beautiful star,” said Amy.

“This isn’t just any star, it is a Moravian star, originating in Germany back in the late 1700s. I can fill you in on the history of that but this is gorgeous,” said Jake in awe.

“Why hasn’t anything happened yet?” wondered Miri. “Maybe you have to take it out of the box,” she answered her own query.

Jake carefully turned the box over to let the twenty-six pointed star slip out onto his hand. Then it all started. The four felt that they were in a slow moving eddy but when all cleared, they found themselves in the downstairs living room, but it wasn’t the current one. A fire was lit in the fireplace and the scent of baking and wassail wafted from the nearby kitchen. A slight rapping at the front door could be heard and a woman quickly walked out of the kitchen to open the door. Cold air rushed from the open door as a tall, robust looking man came in carrying a young boy on his shoulders. Behind him was another man carrying a fresh cut red spruce, which was common in the Poconos region.

“Before you bring that tree in here, please shake the snow off onto the porch,” demanded the woman who turned out to be Emma Hodges. The tall man must have been Jebediah and the young boy, about age three, was Ian. Unlike the events in the past, everything was vivid as if the four were actually in the living room with the residents of the house, but weren’t noticed.

“Thank you, Tom, for helping my boy and I to bring that tree from the back of our property to the house. Once you’ve placed it where the Mrs. wants it, please go into the kitchen and help yourself to whatever Emma has made and some Wassail. I can smell it all from here.”

“Thank you sir,” replied Tom Meuller, the handy man of the Hodges home. Once he placed the tree into the stand in the living room, he went off to the kitchen to dig into the goodies and drink.

“C’mon lad, let’s get those cold damp clothes off you and sit in front of the fire before you catch your death of cold,” said his mother in a stern voice, staring harshly at her husband. “You kept him out there too long. You know how delicate his health is.”

“He needs good fresh air once in a while. You coddle him too much, plus he needs a little fun once in a while.” replied Jebediah. “You did have fun didn’t you, Ian.”

Yes father, I did. I’m not cold mother,” said Ian as his mother hurriedly took off his wool coat, pants, hat and mittens, which she had knitted for him.

Jebediah had taken off his outer clothing and had rushed into the kitchen to grab he and Ian a cup of warm Wassail and a tea cake. After placing them down on the table, he went to the side room, returning with a square wooden box. “I’ve been holding on to this until I felt Ian was old enough to appreciate it.” He sat down next to the young boy and slowly opened the box. He carefully turned over the box in order to let the content slip out onto his large meaty palm.

Both mother and son exhaled in awe at the beautiful sight. Sitting in Jebediah’s large but gentle palm was the most beautiful sight the two had ever seen. It was a multi-pointed, twenty-six to be exact, silver and gold star. The light from the fireplace made it appear to sparkle. “Oh, Jeb, it’s beautiful! Where did you buy it?”

“I didn’t. It was given to me by my father when I was Ian’s age. Look see,” instructed Mr. Hodges as he removed one of the points, exposing a hole. He then gave the star to Ian, instructing him to carefully hold it so as not to drop it and he lifted the boy so he could reach the top of the six foot tree. Ian was able to place it on the top point of the tree. The first decoration of the Christmas tree.

The four quietly watched the three as if they were looking at a live Victorian image on a Christmas card. Jake looked down at the star in his hand knowing that it was the same star that had been placed on the tree. Amy remembered the wool coat she had removed from the armoire, which brought Dave and herself into a tundra facing a polar bear.

Suddenly their vision seemed to waver. When it cleared they were still in the living room but it was a different time. The tree was already decorated with the star at the top and the remainder of the tree covered with ropes of popcorn, berries and other handcrafted items. Mother, father and Ian at approximately seven years old were sitting nearby, unwrapping gifts. Laughter could be heard from the three until Ian untied the cloth ribbon that was holding a flat square cloth covering the present. It was a slate framed in wood. There was a clay pencil and the cloth was considered to be the ‘eraser’. “It’s time you start some academics, learning how to read, write, and to do sums,” explained Mrs. Hodges of the present that Ian didn’t seem too thrilled about receiving. The child thanked his mother and put the unwanted gift down to his side.To break the somber moment, Mr. Hodges picked up another gift, much larger than the one that the young boy had just unwrapped. “Let’s see if this will brighten up your spirit,” as he glared at his wife. Ian had a difficult time unwrapping the package which appeared to be too heavy for him to hold. His father went to his side and loosened the twine so the boy could unwrap the heavy brown paper that covered a box. Ian opened the box and whooped with delight. He lifted the object out of the box. It was a toy Blunderbuss Pistol.

Mrs. Hodges didn’t look pleased. She quietly said to Mr. Hodges, “Why did you get the boy something like that? Is it to try to make him feel like he’ll be a big game hunter like you? You know he’ll never be able to do these things.” The boy didn’t hear their conversation as he was too excited by the toy he held in his tiny hands.

Jake, Miri and Dave looked at each other as they recalled the event in the attic, the first of several they had experienced since finding items belonging to Ian.

The living room vision wavered once again. When it cleared another Christmas unfolded in front of the quartet. This time it appeared that Ian was a couple years older. He walked into the room with a piece of raspberry tart in one hand and a cup of wassail in the other. He set it down on the table. His mother was the only other person in the room. “I was hoping that your father would have made it back in time for Christmas, but it doesn’t look like he will. There is a heavy snowstorm going on in New York where he went for business,” explained Emma to her son of the absence of his father. “We can still enjoy the day. There are some gifts for you under the tree and supposedly a special one from your father. I wonder what he got for you this time,” she stated rolling her eyes. It was obvious that Mrs. Hodges did not approve of some of the things her husband had brought home for her son. He felt she coddled Ian too much and she felt that her husband didn’t see or didn’t want to see how feeble her son was.

The boy slowly went to a chair near the tree and sat down. He didn’t seem to have the spirit in him as he did in the past Christmases that Jake, Miri, Dave, and Amy had witnessed. There was a sad somber feeling in the air. The mother brought some small wrapped items to Ian for him to free from their wrappings. There were new mittens, hats, a coat, and a few other items she had made for him. He hugged her giving thanks. Emma finally came to a larger item that was under the tree, evidently something that Mr. Hodges had sent for Ian and that Tom had picked up at the post office.

To be continued