The Gift

Thoroughly unprepared for meeting Enchanteur I have left a letter of apology as to the absence of my gift. I am crafting a lap cover of sorts and only was able to manage three blocks while on the train.

In my best handwriting, with sepia colored ink on linen paper, I enclosed the letter in a scented envelope. When I reached the train station I asked the porter where to post mail. He explained rather harshly – ‘we don’t do it this way here – we send telegrams’, and pointed towards a rather long line. I gathered my bags, and proceed to take my place in the line. The telegraph was rather timely, some may even say old fashion. A tiny man with a permanent smile and rather large teeth stamped a portion of my letter onto a Christmas type paper. He then walked outside his booth and placed the new correspondence into a treasure trunk. I watched mostly stunned and opened my change purse to pay for the service – he quickly said, ‘Oh no, Miss, there is no charge for mail on the road to the Alluvial Mine.’

My attention turned back to the treasure chest- it was overflowing with different size boxes wrapped with the finest care and silk bows attached. Panic over took me. Why had I not chose another gift, a finished gift to be precise? How was I going to wrap the gift once I finished? I can only hope to pass some gift shops on the Owl Creek Road and purchase wrapping paper and ribbon.

Suddenly I see her! It is Enchanteur! She is looking through the trunk. She reads my letter – her lips twist with distain and she looks around the old train station. I stand rigid behind a pillar, balancing myself on my toes, hoping not be found. I fear  if she locates me I will be left behind and I must complete this journey. I have wanted to take this journey for the past two years and unfortunate circumstances have held me back. No!, I will not let this happen a third time. A shrill whistle goes off and she turns and leaves abruptly … I am safe. I move along once again to take my place on the Owl Creek Road.

Patricia Stewart


About Patricia

Living in Upstate, New York, I would consider myself a mixed media artist and writer of stories, and poetry. I enjoy painting & sketching, altered books, collage on canvas, making dolls, and reading.I am the proud mother to six lovely children.

Posted on December 5, 2006, in Abbey Residents. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. If SHE had shown glee or gratitude, then you might not be encouraged to craft another gift — she is sly that way —

    like the little boy (considered slow) who was frequently offered a choice between a nickle and dime. He would always choose the larger coin to the amusement of the ‘friends’. When queried privately as to the value of the coins he said, “If I took the dime I would no longer be offered the choice!”


  2. I’m not sure Enchanteur ‘does’ disdain – and to be honest – I’m not sure you should be bothered if she does!I think this is insightful and brave – and you created it which is what really matters so just keep walking the road you’re on.

  3. I fear you may have misread Enchanteur Patricia. I observed no disdain in her face when she told me of your beautiful gift. Perhaps she was simply taken a back for a moment – a bit in awe herself. She is often left speechless when she sees what has been left for her.

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