Nothing seemed to come easy for Ardia. She was a sensitive child, and the weight of the whole world seemed to fall on her heart sometimes.
"Tell me again, Momma!" she asked as she climbed into her mother's lap. Her mother pressed a finger to Ardia's tiny lips and softly reminded her, "But, we mustn't speak of it often." Ardia pleaded, "Oh, please, Momma!" Her mother relented, finding it hard to say, "No" to the deep pools of soulfulness in her daughter's big, brown eyes.
Ardia's mother told her again of the man she once loved, the one she loved so deeply that she felt they were soulmates. Their time together was pure bliss as they courted and made plans to marry. Then, one morning she woke up and found that an enormous wall had gone up overnight, separating them, for her beloved was on the other side. "Who built the wall, Momma?" asked Ardia. Her mother replied, "We do not know. We also could not figure out why it appeared, or how it could have been built so quickly."
Her mother detailed her attempts to go around the wall, but it stretched for too long a distance. She had heard rumors of tunnels that might go underneath the wall, allowing access to the other side. She finally found one such tunnel, the entryway to which was hidden down a narrow, dead-end alleyway. She entered with her lantern, carrying a baguette with her. As she followed the twists and turns of the passageway, with many side-passages branching in different directions, she tore small pieces of bread to leave a trail.
Finally, she became too tired to continue and her lantern began to dim, so she retraced the breadcumbs back out again. At one point, the crumbs disappeared and she realized rats must have carried them away and eaten them. She panicked but pressed on and, thankfully, discovered more telltale crumbs to find her way out of the tunnel. As she emerged from the narrow alley into the main street, an old woman, back bent in a curve and leaning on a cane, toddled past. She stopped briefly to gaze long and hard at Ardia's mother, then shook her head and moved on without a word.
Months passed, hope waned, and then she met the man who was to become Ardia's poppa. Although not her soulmate, he took care of her, provided well for her, and was a good, hardworking man. "Speaking of whom," Ardia's mother concluded, "he will be home soon and I need to finish preparing our evening meal. Have you finished your schoolwork?" Ardia nodded her head, and said,"Yes, momma!" As her mother gently slipped Ardia off her lap, she suggested, "Why don't you go out and play for a bit, get some fresh air?" Ardia grabbed her cloak and headed outside.
There was a beautiful plot of red poppies outside, which her mother had planted. They were now blooming, and Ardia paused to look at them, deep in thought. An idea flitted into her head. She bent down and picked one, perfect bloom with her small hand, clutched her cloak closed against the breeze with the other, and started walking down the street. Her steps moved more resolutely until she was almost running. It was only two blocks from her house to the wall, and her neck craned backwards to look up at the imposing structure.
The little girl glanced off to her right, where a small plot of land had been turned into a miniature park with grass and flowers and shrubs. In the middle stood a man, dressed in stately attire, his stance and face frozen in a bronzed pose. He was looking ahead, straight at the wall. Ardia wondered what might be going through his head, if statues could think, just staring at that wall, all day and all night, year 'round.
She squatted down and carefully placed the red poppy at the base of the wall. She stood, placed her palm against the stone and stared hard, hoping to bore through the wall with her eyes, to see the beloved man who might have been her father, her mother's soulmate. But only masonry stared back at her. She sighed a little sigh, then turned to head home. Her mother's stew was always good and warmed her heart. ≈✿≈
~photo-digital artwork © by me~
~This story is part of my contribution to "The Tales of Azza-Jono," a collaborative effort of a dozen people. Story written and © by me.~
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This is another entry in the ColorChallenge which @kalemandra began. It's been such fun participating in it each day since I've been here! 
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