Peter grew up in a large family. His father, fond of a pint, was forever hopping from job to job, while his mother wore herself out working at the local post office and managing the house, just to put food on the table for her three children.
As the eldest, Peter helped his mum by looking after his younger sisters, fetching water and firewood. When the girls grew older, they too pitched in with the chores. By that point, their father had passed awaypoisoned by some dreadful booze, taken in questionable company.
Life didnt become any easier with his father gone. His mother would lament, grieving for her wayward husband:
At least he was quiet when drunk, didnt cause a row. Brought home what little he could Oh, silly man, what were you thinking, leaving us to struggle without you
Peter, tired of hearing his mothers sorrowful complaints, would hurry through his chores and slip out. Hed find the other children gathering for the evening on the steps of an abandoned cottage at the edge of the village. No one had lived there for years, so its broad, sturdy porch made a perfect bench for them all to sit like little sparrows, crunching sunflower seeds and swapping storiesreal happenings and fanciful yarns alike.
Peter never had money for sunflower seeds, nor did his mother ever buy such things, saving every penny. Yet his friend and neighbour Alice always made sure he had some seeds to nibble. She offered them quietly, never making a fuss, slipping a handful into his pocket or palm, fragrant and oil-rich.
Peter would mutter a shy, Thanks, as he tucked in, relishing the seeds like all the rest. He was sure Alice sat closer to him so she could share her treats. At first, he was embarrassed, but he grew used to it and soon sought out her company on the steps.
But Peters conscience wouldnt allow him to keep accepting Alices generosity for nothing. After lunch, while Alice worked in her familys vegetable patch, Peter started dropping by.
Are your folks at work? hed ask.
Yes, off working as always, Alice would answer.
Then Peter would crouch by the beds and help weed with nimble fingers, chatting casually as they worked. Alice enjoyed the company and the help, and together they made the chores go faster. Afterwards, she would bring a kettle into the garden and set out a plate of biscuits and cakes. Peter would refuse out of politeness, but she never let him leave until shed given him pudding and a cup of tea.
Sweets were rare in Peters home, saved for holidays at best. So inside, he was always grateful for Alices warmth.
Peter tried hard at school, not wanting to fall behind, though academics didnt come easily. It was in sport that he excelled, so after finishing school, he enrolled in a college course to become a physical education teacher. Alice became a nurse.
As adults, they saw each other less, only meeting up when they came home for holidays. Peter was scarcely recognisable nowthe skinny boy was gone, replaced by a tall, strong young man. Alice was much the same as always: blue-eyed, slim, gentle, and with that friendly smile.
She married young, having lost her parents in a car accident, and sought comfort and distraction in starting her own family. When Peter learned that Alice had rushed into marriage with John, a chatty, reckless lad from the village, he was stunned. He thought they were dreadfully mismatched, but the couple soon had a son.
Peter didnt hurry to start a family of his own. To his mothers surprise, he impressed everyone at the city sports college where he worked, showing a real flair for organisation, and was soon promoted to manager of a sports centre in Oxford.
His sisters both married, moved to London, and started their own families, but Alices life with her husband didnt turn out well.
That Alice of yours, Peters mum told him one day, her mans the spit of your father. Always out drinking, you never know where. He doesnt care for wife or child. Its heartbreaking, Peter. Cant blame her for feeling done in.
Peter slammed his hand on the table.
What a fool! Why did she marry him? She had a good life before. All that trouble now Just like Dad, trouble through and through.
Mum sighed, He sells everything from the house for drinkher parents crystal, his own clothes, even the old radio and towels. Therere always folk willing to buy, even knowing hell squander it all at the pub And Alices money is short, very short. She earns next to nothing and gets nothing from him. Poor girl.
Peter paced the room, deep in thought. His mother, realising shed said too much, pleaded,
Peter, dont interfere. Let them be, its not our business. Every family has its darkness. If she stays with him, she must love him.
So Peter sat down and told his mother about all the times Alice had secretly fed him sunflower seeds and cakes when he was a boy. He couldnt let himself ignore the sorrow his childhood friend now bore, and her little son as well.
What are you going to do, love? his mother asked anxiously. Dont go after that wastrelno good will come of it. The likes of him is only changed by the grave. We can help her in gentler ways.
Peter nodded and soon left for the city. But a few days later, he returned in his car, unloading two sacks, several boxes, and shopping bags full of groceries and clothes.
His mother was surprised. Whats all this, Peter? Youre not moving back in, are you? Id love it if you did, but surely not
Peter smiled. No, mum, my job and home are in Oxford. These are for youa treat, really. Never mind all those sacks of sunflower seeds; Alice will understand. I cant hand her everything directly, so you be discreet about it. And help yourself, too.
What about your sisters, Peter? Dont they need things as well?
Come now, Mum. They get money from me every holiday, and theyre well looked after by their husbands. I just want you and Alice and the children fed and happy.
His mother echoed, Thank goodness for that.
Im off now, Mum. Share these with Alice as you see fit. Take what you need, and keep it quiet. Ill bring more when you need it. Ill make sure none of you go hungry. Bye for now.
After hugging his mum and seeing him off, she sorted through the goodies. One sack was filled with the largest, finest sunflower seeds shed ever seen.
Brilliant, she chuckled like a delighted child, Ill roast up a treat!
Boxes held tinned milk, stewing steak, cereals, pasta, and flour. Another bag was packed with cellophane-wrapped sweets, which she carefully put in the kitchen cupboard. She marvelled at her sons generosity, recalling how hed always brought her delicacieschocolate boxes, fresh sea fish she adored.
But this delivery was above and beyond.
Oh, Peter, my dear boy, you have such a kind soul. Where has happiness found you, though, I wonder?
She did just as Peter had asked. Every week, she called round at Alices in the evenings with a parcel hidden under her coat.
At first, Alice refused. But when she saw the bucket of sunflower seeds, she realised just who was behind these acts of kindness. Tears trickled down her face as she buried her hands in the shiny seeds. She told Mrs. Grey,
Please, thank Peter for me. All these years, and he still remembers. Im so grateful. Please let him know he has nothing to worry about anymore. I filed for divorce two weeks ago. Soon all this misery will endI hope.
Mrs. Grey nodded and toddled home, unsure what to think. Alice would be free, and her son was single
Well, what will come of this, I wonder? she muttered. Could Peter be thinking of marrying her?
But the months passed. Faithfully, Mrs. Grey delivered the parcels, and Alice would accept them shyly over tea, always promising to one day repay her.
Dont fuss, Mrs. Grey would say. Its for your little one, not you. Dont deny the child a kindnesssometimes God helps through other people. Thats how it goes.
Alice divorced her husband and a year later was cheerful again. The house was cosier; shed hung new curtains, and her boy was the image of his mother, happy at playgroup.
Mrs. Grey sometimes babysat young Billy, who called her Granny, and Peter would always bring new toys for the lad. They met with Alice over tea at his mothers, reminiscing about childhood and never mentioning Alices unhappy marriage, as if those four years had vanished.
Peter came to visit more and more often. Instead of asking after his mum, hed say,
When did Alice last visit? Is Billy here today?
To think you care about the neighbour before your own mum! shed laugh.
Sorry, Mum How are you? Peter would ask, already glancing out the window.
Enough of that, love. Go onshes home today, no doubt waiting. Everyone in the village is already gossiping about you two. Off you go, lad
Its always the same, laughed Peter, people will have us married before weve even thought about it.
He hugged his mother extra tightly.
Whats this, Peter? she whispered, surprised.
Thank you, Mum. Youve always understood, always accepted things the way they are. Thank you.
She blessed her son as he left. Peter ducked out to the porch, then remembered himself, and came back for a bouquet of snowy white chrysanthemums.
Ignoring the whispers of the neighbours, he walked to Alices cottage, not knowing she stood silently behind the net curtain, watching as he brought her flowers.
Life has a way of coming full circle, and those gentle acts of kindness, given and received, stitch together the true fabric of happiness. In the end, we find our own fortune not in what we keep, but in what we givefor goodness, like love, returns when least expected.
