A quote: “Happiness is like those palaces in fairy tales whose gates are guarded by dragons: we must fight in order to conquer it.” ~~ Alexandre Dumas
I’ll start with a story …
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“So, my sweet, what story tonight?”
“Oh, Daddy! The swans, I want the one with the swans!”
“But didn’t I read that last night?”
“Please, Daddy! It’s my favorite!”
And he laughed, opening the book and started “Far away in the land to which the swallows fly when it is winter, dwelt a king who had eleven sons, and one daughter, named Eliza.”
Clusters of daffodils crowded the lake’s banks the day he showed her the paddleboats shaped like swans. Eliza almost fainted with excitement to get on with him, paddling out, imagining her swan boat was carrying her off to a new kingdom.
In time, The Wild Swans’ book grew tattered, but it stayed on her shelf, even as other books came and went. Each spring was a trip to the lake. Now she went out on the swans with friends. Her husband even proposed to her on one.
Her own children didn’t care for the swan tale. But Eliza would still pull out her book from time to time, touching the paintings of swirling swans wearing tiny gold crowns. “Oh Daddy” she’d whisper, missing him.
She finds herself standing among the daffodils, not sure how she got here, watching the swan boats drifting in the distance. Laughter comes back over the water as first one, then another disappears in the far mist. Eliza hears the slap-slap of the water and sees one boat draw near and it’s her father standing in it, “So my sweet. Ready to go?”
She takes his hand, stepping into the swan, ready to take her to a new kingdom.
“Oh, Daddy!”
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
Cameron says: The park had been around for a long time. It was a family-friendly campground with hiking trails, games and a beautiful lake. The highlight of the lake were the paddleboats. For a small price, you could rent them for an hour or two and float around the water.
Unfortunately, this was the kind of place that attracted investors who wanted it for their people. They wanted the lower-class trash removed. The old man who ran things looked utterly defeated. He loved running this place but he didn’t have the money to fight.
But I’m very good as a lawyer. I can command a lot of money for my services and my clients eagerly pay it. I took the case pro bono and my entire firm turned its wrath on the investors. Within a few months, they quietly slunk away to find easier prey.
When it was over, I was sitting with the man at a diner. He thanked me profusely but asked me one question:
“Why?”
“Sixty years ago, my dad fell into that lake and you saved his life. Funny how you look exactly the same then as you do now. I figure I should be on the good side of someone like that.”
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