Early Spring
Little Emily, a four-year-old girl, studied the “newcomer” who had recently appeared in their garden. He was a silver-haired pensioner sitting on a bench, a walking stick in his hand, leaning on it like a wizard from a fairy tale.
Emily asked him point-blank:
“Grandad, are you a wizard?”
When he shook his head, she looked a little disappointed.
“Then why do you have a staff?” she pressed.
“It helps me walk, makes it easier to get around,” explained George Wilson, introducing himself.
“So, youre really old then?” Emily inquired, her curiosity unrelenting.
“By your measure, perhaps. But by minenot so much. Just a bad fall, really. My leg hasnt quite healed yet, so Im stuck with this stick for now.”
Just then, Emilys grandmother appeared, took her hand, and led her toward the park. Margaret Collins greeted the new neighbour with a polite nod, and he smiled in return. But it was Emily who struck up the real friendship with the sixty-two-year-old man. While waiting for her grandmother, the girl would slip outside early just to fill him in on all the latest newsthe weather, what Gran had cooked for lunch, and even what her little friend had been ill with a week ago.
George always had a chocolate sweet ready for Emily. And each time, without fail, she would thank him, unwrap it, bite exactly half, then carefully fold the rest back into its wrapper and tuck it into her coat pocket.
“Why not eat the whole thing? Didnt you like it?” George would ask.
“Its lovely. But I have to save some for Gran,” shed reply.
Touched, George started giving her two sweets the next time. Yet again, Emily took only half and stashed the rest away.
“Who are you saving for now?” George asked, baffled by her thriftiness.
“Mum and Dad, of course. They could buy their own, but they always like being treated,” she explained matter-of-factly.
“Ah, I see. Youve got a tight-knit family, then. Lucky girl. And a kind heart to match.”
“Grans kind too. She loves everybody,” Emily began, but her grandmother was already stepping out of the building, reaching for her hand.
“Oh, George, thank you for the sweets, but reallyEmily and I shouldnt have them. Doctors orders.”
“Well then, what *can* I give you? Im at a loss,” he fretted.
“Honestly, weve got everything we need,” Margaret smiled.
“No, I wont have it. I insist on treating you. Call it neighbourly diplomacy,” George chuckled.
“Finenuts, then. And well only eat them at home, with clean hands. Deal?” Margaret said, looking between him and Emily.
The girl and George nodded, and soon enough, Margaret would find walnuts or hazelnuts tucked in Emilys pockets after their walks.
“You little squirrel, hoarding nuts. Do you know these are a luxury these days? And George needs his medicinesee how he limps?”
“Hes not *that* old, and hes not even limping much now. His legs getting better,” Emily defended her friend. “He even says hell ski again by winter!”
“Ski? Really?” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Well, good for him.”
“Gran, can I get skis too? George promised to teach me!”
As they strolled through the park, Margaret began noticing George walking briskly along the pathwithout his stick.
“Grandad, wait for me!” Emily would dart after him, matching his pace.
“Slow down, you two!” Margaret would call, hurrying to catch up.
Before long, the three fell into a rhythmwalking together, Margaret enjoying the exercise, Emily treating it like a game. The girl was a whirlwind, darting ahead, dancing on the path, clambering onto benches, then falling back in step, chanting:
“Left-right, left-right! Bigger strides, eyes ahead!”
After their walks, Margaret and George would rest on the garden bench while Emily played with her friendsnever leaving without a few nuts from George, handed over discreetly.
“Youre spoiling her,” Margaret would murmur. “Lets save this for special occasions, please.”
George once confided in Margarethed been widowed five years earlier and had only just downsized from his three-bedroom flat to a one-bedder, with the rest going to his sons family.
“I like it here. Never been much for crowds, but a few good neighbours make all the difference.”
Two days later, a knock came at Georges door. Emily and Margaret stood there, holding a plate of scones.
“Weve come to treat *you*,” Margaret announced.
“You do have a teapot, right?” Emily added.
“Of course! What a delight!” George ushered them in.
Over tea, the room glowed with warmth. Emily pored over Georges books and his collection of paintings while Margaret watched, amused by his patience as he explained each one.
“My own grandkids are all grownuniversity students now. I miss them,” George admitted. “But your grandmothers still young!” He ruffled Emilys hair and handed her a pencil and paper.
“I only retired two years agono time to be bored,” Margaret said, glancing at Emily. “And my daughters expecting another. Were lucky to live so closepractically all under one roof.”
All summer, the trio kept company. Come winter, true to her word, Margaret bought Emily skis, and they took to the groomed trails in the park. George and Margaret grew so close they were rarely seen apart, and with Emily skipping nursery to stay with Gran, their little group became inseparable.
Then one day, George left to visit relatives in London.
Emily moped, constantly asking when hed return.
“Hell be gone a month. Said hed make the most of the trip. Well keep an eye on his flat in the meantime,” Margaret explained, though she, too, had grown fond of his companyhis small gifts, his steady cheer, the way hed fix a loose socket or change a blown bulb without being asked.
After just a week, his absence yawned. Theyd step outside and stare at the empty bench where he usually waited.
On the eighth day, as Margaret hurried out to meet Emily, there he wasback in his usual spot.
“George! We werent expecting you so soon!”
“Ah, Londons too noisy. Everyones busyjust sat around waiting. Had my fill. Missed you lot, truth be told. Felt like you were family.”
“Did you bring your grandkids sweets?” Emily asked.
The adults laughed.
“No, love. Theyre past that. Gave them money insteadstudents always need it.”
“Im glad youre back. Feels right having everyone home,” Margaret said.
Emily hugged George, and his eyes crinkled.
“Weve got stacks of pancakesall sorts of fillings. Just as good as scones. Come for tea and tell us about London,” Margaret offered.
“Whats to tell? Same old grand city. But I *did* bring gifts.” George linked arms with Margaret and took Emilys hand as a light spring drizzle began.
“Whys it so warm today?” George mused.
“Because springs coming!” Emily chirped. “Soon itll be Mothers Day, and Gran will lay out the good plates and invite everyoneeven you, Grandad!”
“Oh, how Ive missed you two,” George sighed as they climbed the stairs.
After pancakes, he presented Emily with a painted nesting doll and Margaret with a silver brooch. They wandered their usual route through the park, the snow now grey and spongy, the paths emerging. Emily hopped between drying flagstones, chanting:
“Left-right, left-right! Bigger strides, eyes ahead!”
