I am linking to Jenny Matlock's Alphabe~Thursday. This week is about the letter "J". If you haven't already done so, you can stop by Jenny's blog and read some fun and creative stories here:http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com/2010/12/alphabe-thursday-letter-j.html
|Photo credits: Wikipedia|
J is for Jasmine
She wondered where her momma had ever come up with a name like Jasmine. It even sounded exotic. She snorted, like momma had ever been anywhere other than this old town. Looking down at her momma’s hand, she turned it over and ran her fingers across the palm. Studying the callused, frail and boney hand, she thought this hand belonged to a stranger, not the hand of her momma. Not the hand that sewed all her dresses, or brushed her hair, or turned the pages of the Bible when she read to her. Snot started to trickle down her nose and she let go of her momma’s hand to wipe her nose with the backside of her hand.“Momma?” she softly whispered. “Momma can you hear me?” She rolled her eyes and sniffed.” Like the dead can speak.” She wondered aloud to herself.
The cool breeze that floated through her mother’s bedroom window was scented with a delicate perfume smell. She wondered why she never noticed it before. Letting go of her mother’s hand she stood and walked to the window. She could see the faces of men standing around the fire barrel. One man poking the flames with a stick, another was taking a drag off his cigarette, and two others were passing a bottle of something back and forth. She couldn’t hear anything they were saying. She couldn’t smell the fire or the cigarette either. All she could smell was that delicate perfume smell.
Jasmine turned to take one last look at her mother laid out in her best dress. Her Hair combed. Her Bible lying across her chest, one hand resting on the Bible, the other dropped to her side on the bed. Jasmine quickly picked up the dropped hand, kissed it and laid it softly on top of her mother’s other hand.
“Bye momma.” She whispered “I love you. I’ll always love you!”
Jasmine stood there frozen, staring down at her momma. She finally managed to walk over to the rocking chair, lifted her mother’s delicate ivory hand crocheted shawl and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. Her mother’s scent still lingered on the shawl. She started to the door, she couldn’t look back or she would cry again. Jasmine walked down the hall and out the front door, letting the screen door slam behind her. Everyone stopped and stared at Jasmine.
“You alright child?” her grandmother stepped up next to her and ran her hand through Jasmine’s hair.
“Granny?” Jasmine looked up at her grandmother. She had the same eyes as her momma.
“Yes child?” her grandmother gave her a sad look.
“Granny what’s that I smell?” Jasmine asked.
“What do you smell child?” Granny asked.
“It smells sweet. Like perfume.” Jasmine cocked her head to the side, and looked at her grandmother with a puzzled expression.
Granny reached out for Jasmine to hold her hand and said “Come with me child.” Her grandmother walked her around the house to her mother’s window. There the sweet smell got stronger.
“That’s the smell granny! What is it?” Jasmine asked in bewilderment.
Jasmine’s grandmother reached out and broke off a small clump of white flowers and tucked them in Jasmine’s hair. The fragrant smell permeated the air around her head.
“Your daddy planted that bush for your momma when they got married. It bloomed the night you were born. Your momma said she was so mesmerized by the smell that she never had any pain giving birth to you. Said it was like God took away the pain with the sweetness of it's smell, and replaced it with the joy of your beautiful birth! Said it was God’s gift to her for waiting so long to have a child, for waiting so long to have you, Jasmine.
“What’s it called?” Jasmine asked as she fingered the delicate flowers in her hair.
“It’s called Jasmine.” Granny said with tears welling in her eyes.