Elizabeth Rowan Keith offers this second story for you, and as a lagniappe, a photo to relate it to. Photos aren't necessary, so if you are thinking of sending another story, don't worry about art. Just the story will do nicely. Now, read and enjoy Elizabeth's wee story of childhood wishes.
At the End of a Rainbow
©2013, Elizabeth
Rowan Keith
My parents talked of a pot of gold that could be found at
the end of a rainbow. I’ve never known
how hard they believed in that pot of gold, or how much they expected to find
it. For a while, I think they did wish
and believe.
Whenever a rainbow seemed near enough, they would frantically
drive, their children in the back seat, to where they thought the rainbow
ended. The rainbow had always faded
before we arrived. But chase it they
did, fostering excitement and hope for food, clothes, and new toys across the
back seat.
My parents would exit the car where they thought the rainbow
had likely ended to look for whatever treasure might be there. We children were set about to search our own
bit of ground.
We did our best to find the treasure. Surely we had arrived quickly enough to
prevent someone else from taking first.
To not find it was so cruel. We
were failures.
Looking back, it was silly to expect for a pot of gold to be
there to end our poverty. How very much
I wish our parents had, instead, taught us to enjoy the beauty of a rainbow.
Slainte.
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