Four children were left on Martha’s
doorstep, one each for the four seasons. Winter’s baby came last, wrapped in
night and gazing at the stars.
No one knows where they came from
or which persons were responsible for abandoning them so, and yet Martha took
to raising them as her own, her loving warmth more than making up for the
cold indifference with which they were cast aside.
Spring was the first to arrive - her
tiny cries piercing the crisp chill of the morning air. Martha had no choice but to
pick her up and cradle her to her bosom straight away, lest the cold silence her. As she grew into a child, Spring was the one that always followed Martha
around, helping with the household chores and tending to the garden. Her
horticultural skills were something to behold, transforming a barren patch of soil
around the house into a floral paradise.
Always the first to do things and
arrive at places, Spring was always so enthusiastic and full of verve. Her
constant energy seemed implausible and overly chirpy to some – but for others
it was a welcome reminder of how one could exude boundless positivity - living
without being afraid of anything.
It was a sad day then, when she
passed. Dying young is always tragic, but more so for one seemingly so full of
life. No one knew exactly how she died, but rumours spoke of how living double
the life in half the time had been the cause, whilst others speculated that
somehow deep down she had always known of her short time on this earth, which
in turn led to her living her life to the fullest.
Summer was the second of the
children to arrive. It was a blazing hot day, and if it were not for her
laughter echoing amidst the warm breeze perhaps Martha would not have found her.
Always happy and content, Summer grew to be a lovely young woman. Relaxed and
friendly, she would calm anyone in her vicinity – when she was around it would
always bring out the best in people. They would forget their quarrels and
hardships in their life and just be.
With no end of suitors it was no
surprise that she married young and subsequently left the household to travel
to faraway lands. She was always grateful to Martha for her care and upbringing
but it was clear that she could not remain in one place forever. It is not
known what became of her, but it is certain that wherever she was she would be
bringing a smile to someone’s face.
The third child was Autumn.
Nestled amidst the fallen leaves, she wailed when Martha picked her up and
cradled her. She was beautiful as a baby, but growing into her adolescence she
became almost impossibly beautiful. Her pale skin and clear blue eyes would
hush rooms as she walked in. Men would avert their gaze when she met theirs and
her name became etched on the hearts of thousands. She was always such a sad
child, so distant and detached; unable to identify with anyone or anything
other than the ethereal and the mythical. She never found one that she could
love – all those she met eventually left with a heart broken, knowing that she
could never truly belong to them and them only. Once again, tragedy befell the family when she was found hanged
amongst the bare branches of the orchard. She was unable to belong in this
world.
Winter’s baby came last, wrapped
in night and gazing at the stars. Martha quickly fetched some cotton blankets
and held her close before the unforgiving cold could claim her. She was hardly
breathing, still and silent as the frozen night – it was a miracle that she was
still alive.
Winter was quiet as a child. In
fact, she hardly spoke at all. Always lingering at the back of the room. The
last to arrive, the last the leave. Sometimes people didn't even notice she was
there. Always so silent, simply watching and waiting. It was no surprise then
that she ended up outliving them all, even Martha. She was the only one there
at her side in her final moments, comforting her with her silent smile.
Once Martha was gone there was not
much purpose for Winter to stay here. One day, without a fuss, she quietly packed
her bags and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.
No one knows exactly why these
sisters were brought into this world in such a way, or
ultimately what their purpose was. But one thing was clear – they lived on
within the hushed whispers of the townsfolk, the stories of their lives continually
perpetuated by those huddled around a comforting fire. They would not be
forgotten.
24th August 2012
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