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Short stories: The garden gate

by JRR

Created on: July 14, 2009   Last Updated: September 17, 2009

"This note was left for you this morning," Carrie's mom said when she came downstairs early one morning. "I have no idea who it is from, nor from where it came. It was just stuck on the front door when I came in from the garden."

Taking the envelope from her mothers hand, Caroline turned it over looking for some hint as to who it could be from. It was nothing but a plain white envelope with her name in block letters written in black ink. There was no clue as to who it could have been from, not even if it was male or female.



Carefully opening the envelope she removed the short handwritten note inside. The handwriting on the note was just like on the outside of the envelope. Instantly looking at the end, she saw no signature.

Reading the note she felt her face burn lightly as a faint blush reddened her cheeks, "Yesterday, I saw you standing by the Garden's gate, as you stopped for a moment to smell the beautiful roses. I was awed at the way their beauty pales in comparison to yours. From afar, I admire you, until the day my desire to hear your angelic voice whisper my name, overcomes the fear that makes my heart pound heavily in my chest."

"What does it say?" her mother asked. "Who is it from?"

Rereading it aloud to her mother, Caroline added softly, "There is no signature, so I don't know who it is from. It must be someone playing a joke on me though."

"It doesn't sound like a prank to me my dear," her mother assured her. "It sounds to me that you have an admirer."

Scanning the words for a third time Caroline thought over the words in the note and the words her mother had spoken. She was having a hard time understanding how anyone could see her in such a light. At nineteen, she didn't think she was anything extraordinary. She knew she was far from beautiful, at least by conventional standards. Her brown hair hung straight, not with the stylish waves of many young women. Her hazel eyes were nothing exceptional, although they did tend to sparkle with a life of their own. She was heavy set and knew most men saw nothing attractive in her, yet here was someone who thought she was beautiful. Was it possible this was real?

Without another word she walked back upstairs to her bedroom and placed the note on her dresser. Maybe she would never get another one, but she would always cherish this one, regardless of the reason behind it. Even if she never learned the name of the sender, for that one moment in time she felt like a princess. She felt beautiful and special.

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