Mary could scarcely remember her parents. When her mother passed away, her father hadnt the heart to stay on alone with a little girl in his arms. He took Mary to her grandmothers cottage, left her at the garden gate, and drove off without a word. At that moment, Granny was in the back garden tending to her roses and only noticed the sound of a car receding into the distance.
I wonder whos come to call? she thought, setting down her trowel and wiping her hands before heading round to the front.
As she stepped out, Granny spotted her granddaughter standing by the gate.
Silly fool, she muttered under her breath. He could have at least knocked! Taking Marys small hand, she led the child inside.
Later that evening, when Granddad returned home, Granny recounted what had happened.
So? Did Charles bring her? he asked.
Yes, he did. Left the poor child at the gate and sped off. Just like young people these days off they go without a word!
They grumbled and sighed over it for some time before heading to bed. The months and years trickled by. The grandparents poured all their love and care into their granddaughter.
They taught her to treat everyone kindly and to run a neat household. Mary blossomed, gradually becoming her grandparents right hand. They could never get enough of their granddaughter, who, with her gentle eyes and golden hair, was the very image of her late mother. Their daughter had once helped them as Mary did now, before her life was cut short. Memories of their beloved child warmed the old couple in their twilight years.
By the time Mary finished school, it was Granddad who opened a conversation one autumn evening.
Our Marys clever and bright, he mused. Wouldnt it be grand if we could send her somewhere to learn a bit more?
Youre quite right, replied Granny. Theres no hope of getting ahead these days without a proper education.
So the old pair gathered their last savings and sent Mary off to London to study. She completed her degree in Economics with distinction before returning home to the village.
City life never suited her. Her grandparents were beside themselves with happiness, knowing they wouldnt be left alone in their old age. Mary set her mind on breathing new life into their small community. She took a loan from the bank, bought a plot of land, and hired some labourers. Later, she built a proper dairy and purchased cattle. Still, there werent enough hands, so she placed an advert in the local newspaper, promising fair wages and a cosy cottage.
One day, a man turned up: dishevelled, beard unkempt, and clothes worn by hard living. It was plain hed seen hard times. He introduced himself to Mary as her father.
He asked for nothing, understanding full well after two decades he had forfeited any claim on her life. Only one request he made: to remain nearby, perhaps lend a hand when needed. Left all alone himself, perhaps here, at last, he could be of some use.
It was months before Mary made her peace with her father, but she did. Ever since, he has lived quietly by her side, helping with all manner of chores, each day fearing to find himself alone once more. Was Mary right to forgive her father, I wonder?
