For nineteen years Elsie has lived in her little Cotswold village with her mother, Margaret, and her grandmother, Mabel, dreaming that someday George, the boy from the neighbouring farm she has loved since she was a child, might finally turn up. She smiles at the memory of the boy who was five years older than her and thinks,Wouldnt it be wonderful if George suddenly came to this hamlet?Alas, his grandmother passed away three years ago, even though I tended to her
After completing Year9, Elsie enrolled in the countys NHS training college, graduated, and now works at the local health centre as a qualified paramedic. She often asks herself,What does a womans happiness really mean?Do we even have such a thing?Were three generations of women living together, and I cant tell what happiness looks like for Mum.She seems just as unsure.Mum once told her how her own father, a man Elsie has never seen, vanished the moment he learned she was pregnant.Mabel, a kindhearted widow, raised her two daughters alone after her husband died early.
Despite her youth, Elsie tends to the villagers with steady handsadministering injections, checking blood pressure, and greeting each patient with politeness and warmth.People respect her because shes one of them and because shes been nursing animals and friends since she could crawl, soothing kittens, puppies, and sore knees with a dab of green ointment.She has always wanted to be a medical professional.
One chilly afternoon, after a round of checkups, Elsie walks home lost in thought, the image of George resurfacing.She scolds herself, Why do I keep mulling over him?He could already be married with a brood of children wholl never know Ive loved him since I was thirteen.The last time she saw him was at his grandmothers funeral, where they barely exchanged words while his mother, looking pale, leaned on his arm.
Winter has settled over the valley; New Years celebrations are already behind them and February is drawing to a close.Margaret delivers the post on foot, while Mabel keeps the hearth warm, baking buttery scones, rolling pasties, and simmering jam.Turning onto the lane, Elsie glances at the neighbours cottageits key was given to her long ago by Mabel when she cared for her. After heavy snowfalls, Elsie sometimes clears the path to that house, hoping George will drive by, but
Hello, love, wheres Mum?She should be home by now, the little girl asks.
She stopped in to see Mary, her friend, whos feeling under the weather.Shell be back soon; Ive taken her medicine.Come in, Ill get you something to eat.Well keep you warm, Mabel replies, smoothing the tablecloth.
Thanks, Gran.My stomachs growling and this frost is relentless.Winters being stubborn, but spring will chase it away.Soon the sunshine will gather its bags and fly off to warmer places.I adore spring, Elsie chuckles, heading to her modest bedroom, slipping onto the single bed, and again recalling the boy who once helped his grandfather, Samuel, repair a thatched roof at seventeen.He slipped on a nail, injuring his foot just as Elsie watched from her garden. She sprinted home, fetched a bandage and green salve, and rushed to his side.
Painful, isnt it, George?Let me dress that wound, she said, holding his hand. He stared at her, bewildered.
Youve got yourself a doctor now, he muttered, wincing.
Dont be modest, his grandmother chided, Shes been patching up everyone since she was a child.
Elsie examined the cut, reassured him, Its not deep at all, Ill have it bandaged in a flash.Does it hurt? Her blue eyes brimmed with sympathy, and she felt tears well up for his plight. He saw the kindness there, smiled, and replied, Not at all, miss.Its painless.He would never forget those blue eyes, even though he was only about twelve then.
When George returned from his service, he found his mother pale and lips cracked. He could not hide his tears as he sat beside her, and she, overwhelmed with joy at seeing her son alive, whispered, Thank God youre back; now I can finally rest.He promised, Mum, Ill be here for you, no more scary words.He proved a devoted son, giving his mother gentle massages, helping with injections, and working hard to give her a steadier life. Soon she regained her spirit, taking pride in the tidy cottage and reminiscing about her own childhood home in the countryside.
Ah, son, imagine living out here foreverno highrise flats, just a porch chair and fresh air.Maybe even keep a few chickens
George decided to visit the village that Saturday. Though the idea of travelling to a longabandoned farmhouse in winter seemed foolish, he kept his promise to his mother, whos eyes lit up at the thought. He boarded the bus, braced for the journey, and arrived to find the lane freshly cleared by a tractor, leading straight to Mabels cottageonce a place he visited each year and never wanted to leave.
He expected to wade through kneedeep snow, but the narrow path was swept clean to the gate, and the three steps onto the porch were free of drifts, even a tidy old broom standing there. Whos been sweeping?Maybe someones moved in, he mused. The curtains, light cotton sheaves sewn by Mabel herself, fluttered softly. He lifted the brass key from his pocket, turned the lock, and heard a familiar, cheerful voice behind him:
Welcome back!Its been ages; Ive been waiting for you.
Startled, George stumbled backward onto the porch, where a slender young woman in a sheepskin coat and a fluffy white hat stood, her blue eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed with a natural pink.
Dont you recognise me?Im Mabels granddaughterWhats my name again?
She laughed, Im Elsie, youve forgotten?Of course you remember!Georges face brightened, Elsie!You treated my foot back thentiny you, with those short braids sticking out to the sides.
Yes, you still recall?
She beamed, her smile warm, I used to clear the snow, waiting for you.Come inside, Ill brew tea and slice some jamtopped scones.My mum and Gran will be delighted.Well have plenty of time.
Inside, George sipped tea laced with sweet cherry jam while Elsie chatted animatedly. Mabel and Margaret slipped into the sittingroom, their faces bright with happiness.
Your grandmother fell ill lately, so I didnt want to worry Mum.I cared for her, fed her, and Ive always wanted to be a medic.Now Im a paramedic here, Elsie explained.
I still remember you fussing over my leg, looking so serious.You bandaged me so well theres no scar left, George chuckled.
Oh, stop it, Elsie waved her hand, cheeks flushing, I was just worried about you.Ive loved you since we were kids
George blushed, You were a lanky girl then, but I respected you for your dedication.
Elsie handed him the old key. Grandma gave this to me before she passed.She always said youd come back, maybe even stay.
Keep the key, George said, but lets go inside first.
The cottage smelled of fresh pine and warm bread. George admired the tidy rooms, feeling grateful for Elsies care.
Elsie, I must return to the city now, but I promise Ill be back.Ill bring Mum here; shell love the clean air.Ill fix up the place and wait for you.Your bright eyes wont let me forget, he said, his heart racing with excitement.
Elsie watched him board the bus, feeling a mixture of joy and longing. He called out, My Gran was rightI’ll come back and never let you go.
As the bus pulled away, Elsie walked home with a smile, finally understanding what a womans happiness truly means: it lives in the quiet courage of caring for others, in the hope that love, once nurtured, will always find its way back. The lesson lingered in the crisp evening air: genuine joy is not waiting for destiny, but creating it through compassion and steadfast devotion.
