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Rated: · Short Story · Spiritual · #1880845
Maggie and her Grandfather swing in the old family porch swing.
Four-year old Mattie Burke climbed up into the wooden porch swing and snuggled into the comfort of her grandfather’s lap. Pointing her tiny finger up to the sky she asked, “What’s that bird called Papaw?”

“That’s a Robin. Listen to his cheerful song.” Bob Burke pointed to the grayish brown bird perched on a tree limb a few feet away. “See his orange belly. That’s how you know he’s a Robin.”

“Where does he sleep Papaw?” Mattie asked looking up into his age worn face.

“He has a nest on one of these tree limbs.”

“Oh, okay.” A contented sigh escaped her lips as she rested her head on her grandfather’s shoulder. “Why did Granny leave?”

“God called her home child.” Bob pressed a tender kiss to the top of his granddaughters head. “She’s an Angel now. I bet she’s watching us right now.”

“I miss her.” Mattie whispered, her tiny fingers wrapping around his calloused ones.

“Me too child,” Bob said, his voice laced with tears.

Several minutes passed in silence. Then the wind tickled the leaves on the old oak growing tall and strong beside the weathered porch.

“Listen to that.” Bob closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Maggie dear, what was that noise?”

Maggie sat forward and twisted in his lap. Bob opened his eyes to the sight of her bright smile and twinkling eyes. Her tiny hands came up to cup his bewhiskered face and she said, “Papaw, that’s the Angels singing us a lullaby.”



Word Count 251

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