The Nest of a Swallow
When John Harper married Eleanor, his mother immediately took a liking to the new bride. Shed long admired the girl, ever since John was a schoolboy, dancing with her at village fêtes.
John, are you smitten, or what? Youre staring at yourself in the mirror like a lovesick lad, she laughed. Show us the bride, then bring your father over for a look.
Im smitten, Mum, you see everything, you know everything. Give me a minute, Ill prove it, John grinned and slipped away.
At last our son will have a girl like Eleanor, his wife, Margaret, said over dinner.
What sort of Eleanor? Margaret asked.
Why, shes the granddaughter of Old Fred. Hes raised her alone, you know. She isnt a spoiled pet, shes courteous, cheerful, and absolutely beautiful.
Mrs. Harper could barely contain herself, eager to learn what sort of girl her son had chosen. When John arrived with Eleanor for tea, the old woman could hardly sit still, eyes wide with delight.
My boy, have you read my thoughts? Ive been hoping youd bring home Eleanor for years. Shes a gem, she gushed, while the young couple exchanged shy smiles.
The wedding was a modest village affairnothing lavish, just two people pledging themselves in love. Eleanor was not hasty, but once she set her mind to something she did it with care, thoughtfulness, and neatness.
Our Eleanor is like a swallowgentle and watchful, Mrs. Harper told a neighbour, beaming. What a proper lady she is.
Soon after, a son was born. They named him Michael. Grandma and Grandpa adored the infant, though Michael came into the world premature and frail. Slowly he grew steadier, his temperament calm.
Years drifted on. Johns parents passed away, and two years later John himself died suddenly, a hot summer day while he was hauling hay onto the loft. His heart gave out under the scorching sun. Eleanor was left bereft, but what could she do?
Eleanor and Michael remained alone. Time moved forward; Michael matured, and they settled into a quiet, measured life. Every chore was discussed, planned, and then carried out at a pace that suited them both. Their little farm ran like any other in Willowbrookcow, horse, pig, chickens, fields ploughed and sown. Yet unlike other households, there were no shouting matches, no accusations, no bitter words between mother and son.
When a sudden downpour ruined a stack of hay, Eleanor would say, Never mind, lad, the summers long; the straw will dry. Neighbours, by contrast, bickered over the same mishap, their voices rising to nearfisticuffs.
Eleanor kept the house immaculate: polished floors, starched curtains, a tidy hearth. She loved cooking, though never in excess, always varied. Michael was a hearty eater, and Eleanor would always ask what hed like for the next days meal.
Neighbour Anne would sometimes drop by, eyes wide.
Eleanor, you live just you and your son, yet the table looks like a feast! she exclaimed.
Come in, have a seat, Eleanor offered. Michael may be small, but hes got an appetite.
Anne chuckled, Your lad may not have Johns strength, but hes a good looking fellowmakes any girls heart flutter. She added, A steady, calm man like him will make a fine husband for any lady.
The villagers grew to respect Eleanor and Michael, seeing them as sensible, clean, friendly, and unenvied. When Michael chose his own wife, he surprised everyone. He fell for Veronicaa tall, robust girl, a head above him, hardly a classic beauty. She was fierce, outspoken, quicktempered, and prone to quarrels.
What could possibly have drawn Veronica to my Michael? Eleanor wondered, shaking her head. Theyre worlds apart; you cant change a man, nor tame a firebrand.
She resolved to endure, thinking, If my sons happy, Ill manage. Michael, though a man of few words, loved Veronicas vivacity, even as she chattered endlessly.
Dont worry, Mum, the children will grow, and Ill keep teaching them whats right, he told Eleanor, who said little in reply.
The wedding was quiet, no brawls, unlike the usual village revelry. Some drunken villagers passed out in the yard, on benches, under the eaves, and by morning they had all drifted away.
At dawn Eleanor stepped out to clear the tables. Veronica appeared, arms crossed, muttering, Did we really need this wedding? We could have just signed the papers and been done.
Go to bed, Veronica. If youre tired, Ill finish the cleaning myself, Eleanor replied calmly.
Veronica snapped, Ill spread the word that Im a lazy daughterinlaw, sleeping all day and doing nothing.
Eleanor sighed, Let them gossip; theyre all still asleep.
Veronica glared, Youll see what a motherinlaw can do. She turned away, her face twisted with resentment.
Eleanor kept her peace, knowing there was nothing to prove. From the first day Veronica showed her sharp temperament. She watched how Michael treated his mother, offering gentle kisses on the cheek and praising Eleanors meals. Yet Veronica scoffed, Whats this, milky tenderness? Ive never seen a son behave so sweetly to his mother. He should be more attentive to his wife.
When Veronica went to the shop, she bragged to the other women about Michaels devotion, claiming hed never utter a harsh word to Eleanor.
Old George, the village blacksmith, shook his head one evening and muttered, Bless poor Eleanor, they tossed a crow into a swallows nest.
Many felt sorry for Eleanor, yet none heard her condemn Veronica. The gossip about Veronicas quarrelsome nature spread, but Eleanor never entered the fray.
Michaels work at the local garage kept him busy. He often returned to find the house in a state of tension, but he merely shrugged his shoulders. Veronica would snap at him over a simple dinner.
What shall we cook tomorrow? Eleanor asked one night.
Veronica snapped back, Well eat whatevers on the pot, not some royal feast.
Veronicas cooking was hasty, her milk buckets forever stained, the milk milky with straw, filtered clumsily through cheesecloth. Eleanor, however, inspected every bucket, cleaned each udder before milking, and then proceeded with care. She never argued, though she could see Michaels eyes linger on the food she prepared, preferring her dishes.
They never shouted at each other, but Eleanor sensed the strain on Michaels spirit. She tried, in soft whispers, to steer the household toward gentler ways, only to learn that harsh words and accusations were accepted as normal in Veronicas world.
A year later Veronica gave birth to a son, Timothy. The baby struggled at night, nursing poorly, and grew thin. Veronica ignored Eleanors offers of extra milk, insisting she could manage alone.
Eleanor, unable to stand by, began feeding the infant in secret. Timothy soon put on weight and slept soundly. When Veronica discovered this, she erupted, Youve been feeding my son! You think you can raise him better than I can?
Eleanor said nothing, simply continued her quiet care. Timothy flourished, keeping pace with his peers at school, and his bond with his grandmother grew tender. The boys gentle nature reflected Eleanors quiet influence.
Timothys father, Thomas, also a kind man, embraced his son often. Veronica, however, barked, Raise a man, not a dainty little girl. Hes neither fish nor flesh for you. Thomas merely rolled his eyes.
The household never erupted into open fights; Eleanor kept a steady hand, even as Veronica muttered behind her back. Michael, though aware of his wifes sharp tongue, kept his head down, his garage work steady, his thoughts often drifting to his mothers calm presence.
Timothy excelled in school, and Eleanor would sit beside him during lessons, nodding when he answered, even if she didnt understand the lesson herself. When he confessed a crush on a girl named Tara from the next lane, Eleanor smiled, Thats lovely, dear. Keep her close to your heart.
Its just a secret between us, Timothy whispered, and Eleanor crossed herself, murmuring a blessing.
When Timothy left for college in the city, he promised to return. Ill come back after my exams, Mum. Ill marry Tara, build a house, and bring you both to live with us. I wont let you stay alone here, he vowed, kissing his grandmothers cheek.
Eleanor felt a tightening in her chest, but she nodded, trusting the young man shed helped raise. She knew that, in time, the love shed poured into the family would return, and the nest of the swallow would once again be warm and safe.
