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Don't touch
Contributed by: Tamara Culp on 1/6/2008

The little girl climbed out of her grandmother's SUV and waited, patiently for hergrandma to come take her hand. It seemed she spent an awful lot of time waiting for her grandma...waited in line at the bank with her, at the grocery store, waited in the car at the gas station.

At least she was allowed to pick something out at the grocery store. It made the hours of waiting a little more bearable.

The child knew her grandma was busy and not used to taking care of a little girl. She didn't really know why she'd had to leave the little apartment she had shared with her mom.

This time they were going to the library. The little girl loved picking out books. The covers were so pretty and colorful. Her reading had improved so she could read the stories to herself. No more waiting for a busy adult to have time to open the cover and begin the story.

She didn't know why they werecoming to the library at night. Nobody every told her anything except go here, go there and tonight it was, "Don't touch anything when we get in there!" Why couldn't she touch the books? What was different tonight?

The little girl and hergrandma entered the doors. The library was full of people. Not just the normal bustle of people dropping off and picking up books but people holding glasses and standing around in groups making a terrific racket. What happened to the quiet rule?

"This is an art show", grandma said grasping her hand tightly. "You can look, but don't touch!" she said as they walked through the crowd.

"An art show?" thought the little girl. Still thinking about the wonderful pictures in her books she thought maybe these were the people who put those drawings in all the books. Grandma walked through a door into a quieter room filled with comfortable looking chairs. It looked for all the world like a living room. What was it doing here in the library?

The little girl heard her grandma say, "Hello Joyce, I'm so glad to see you. This is my granddaughter. I think I told you what her mother did this time so I had to bring her with me. I promised you I would make it in to see the show."

The little girl usually hated when her grandma talked about her mother to strangers. She was sure it was her fault she had to live with grandma. She knew she had done something so wrong that her mother didn't want to live with her anymore. Usually she thought about all this when her mother was mentioned but there, on the wall in front ofher, was the most beautiful picture of all.

The bad thoughts flew right out of her head.The picturehad flowers and flowers and more flowers and all of the colors from her box of markers at home. The picture was bumpy and lumpy and wonderful. Stuck in one corner she was sure she could see a leaf. Did it blow in on the wind and get stuck there? Would it be soft if she touched it? Her fingers reached out, slowly, so slowly. The picture was right there, so close, irresistible.

"Don't touch," grandma yelled giving her hand a little jerk. Embarrassed the little girl looked down. She didn't want anyone to see the tears fill her eyes. She hated to cry in front of people. She wasn't a baby.

Suddenly the stranger lady knelt down andpatted her cheek. "Honey, would you like to touch my painting?" The little girl shook her head no even though her fingers were starting to reach up towards that enchanting leaf.

She shook her head no but she glanced quickly at the lady's face. The lady smiled at her and said, "Come closer, it's all right. Reach up here and feel this." The little girl tentatively touched the leaf with an outstretched finger. "Oh," she exclaimed, "It's sharp!" her tears completely forgotten.

The lady laughed and explained that it was an oil painting and that she liked to layer on lots of color and texture. The little girl really didn't know what the lady meant but she smiled up at her glad to look at the picture with the leaf.

The little girl waited for her grandma to say it was time to go. But, this time, she didn't mind waiting. The painting was bright and beautiful in her head. She couldn't wait to get back to her little roomwith her paper and markers.

Maybe she could make her own picture, too. Maybe she could make a special picture for her mom and her mom would forgive her for whatever horrible thing she had done. Maybe she and her mom would get their own place again that would look just right with her picture hanging on the wall.

Maybe she had better get started.


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Showing 1 of 1 comments
Submitted By: Monte D Tucker
posted on 7/14/2008 @ 10:29:54 AM
Rated Story
Touching story from a child's perspective. I rated the concept.
[Report as objectionable]
Showing 1 of 1 comments
CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Tamara Culp

Castle Rock , CO

Tamara Culp has posted 33 stories and 16 comments since joining on 11/10/2006. Tamara Culp 's average story rating is 4.97.
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