Lilly

Lilly

It’s thanksgiving again, and she’s still gone. The autumn leaves fall as the wind wisps by; the pumpkins sprout up, waiting for their turn to be picked. The memory of Lilly still lingers in everyone’s mind as they sit down to their Thanksgiving Dinner. Everyone taking turns to tell what they are thankful for; everyone but Lilly. She couldn’t be there that Thanksgiving Day for she was still lost. Lost to an unforgiving world; lost in an undecided fate. Everyone goes silent when they are done thanking the Lord to remember Lilly. It would be her turn to say something; instead all that is heard is the faint crackle of the fire in the next room. Tears fall as her memory crosses everyone’s mind. All is silent; all is still. No one dares to raise their heads for they do not want to see the look on another’s face. It’s not long before a small whisper was heard.

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.” The youngest at the table lightly sings. Soon her voice grows louder; stronger. One by one, the rest of the family joins in until they are all singing. The song ends and small smiles begin to grow on the faces of those at the table as they start to eat. Small talk breaks out between a few, then a few more. Soon everyone is talking and laughing, enjoying the time together; treasuring their time together.

Dinner is over now, and everyone is full and relaxed. The plates are filled with scraps and bones, and the dog lingers near Grandpa, knowing it’s only a matter of time before he gets a piece of turkey. The setting sun's beams through the window and shines on the smiling faces. There was a soft whisper of a piano coming from the next room, now. Small talk continued, but most just listened. Now was a good time to relax and enjoy what down time they had. One by one, they left the table and sat on the couch or ground around the fire, listening to the piano. The fire cracks again; the dog runs away. The little ones laugh and try to catch the sparks, only to be scolded by their mothers. They turn their attention to the dog as the grandpa’s look on, telling stories of their youth. Laughing breaks out, but is soon quieted in anticipation for the next part of the story.

The night wears on, and people begin to fall asleep on each other. All that’s left now is the dying fire, and the lingering smell of turkey and stuffing. Snores are heard and soft sighs. Thanksgiving is over now, and she’s still gone. The autumn leaves settle, now, on the forest floor. But Lilly will ever live on in their memories; so she’s not really gone after all.