THE IVY GARDEN

From our kitchen window I can see my little girl Nell playing with her new best friend Elena. Since moving to Atlanta two months ago, the girls have become inseparable. They are both four years old and about the same height but that’s where the physical  similarities end. 

Nell is a green-eyed lanky Irish redhead covered in a profusion of freckles while Elena is a slightly plump Spanish beauty with brown doe eyes, smooth tanned skin and lustrous black hair. 

As I stand at the kitchen sink I can see the girls frolicking in the yard with Elena’s puppy, Pongo. Their energy is boundless as they dash back and forth from the swings to the trampoline to their bikes. They like to play a funny game where little Pongo is a scary monster chasing them around the yard …. and Pongo is always happy to oblige.

Moving around the kitchen doing my chores, I can hear Elena counting, followed by an excited “ready or not….here I come”, then the hysterical giggles as Nell’s secret (but usual!) hiding place is discovered. 

The yard is fenced in and I’m completely aware of the girls and what they’re doing …. most of the time. Occasionally they’ll wander into a concealed corner of the garden to pick wild flowers for me and Elena’s mom. Even though I can’t see them, I can clearly hear their conspiratorial mumblings as they go from one blossom to the other.  

“Buttercups, Daisies and Lillies of the Valley” whispered Elena.

“And some pretty shiny ivy” added Nell. “Mommy likes shiny things.”  

All was quiet and I presumed the girls would come dashing into the kitchen and present me with a freshly-picked bouquet; instead Pongo bounded in, yipping and yapping like crazy …. an omen that all is not as it should be. To my relief, there’s no sign of anything unusual in the dining room. The front door is locked and my handbag is still resting on the desk where I left it. To my amazement, on the crisp white tablecloth sat a short blue glass vase brimming with Daisies, Buttercups, Lillies of the Valley and ivy. It was breathtaking.

I stood there admiring the green, white and golden cluster when suddenly I heard woeful whimpering and sobbing nearby. Pongo gave a little tug on the end of the tablecloth and there, huddled closely, were Nell and Elena, their little bodies covered in itchy red rashes. Only then did I realize the vine in the vase with flowers was poison ivy! 

“Come with me, my sweet girls. It’s nothing a little calamine lotion won’t fix. Thank you for the  flowers …. the most beautiful I’ve ever seen! Won’t daddy be surprised when he comes home tonight!” I said, smiling and chuckling to myself. 

And tomorrow we will rid the garden of all the pretty shiny ivy. 

NAR©2024

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