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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #1872182
Lawrence tells a story.
"Lawrence, tell me the story," pleaded Tess.

"Again? Are you having trouble?"

" I can't find my art inside me. Whenever I lose my art and you tell me the story, I find it again. Please?"

"Very well, Tess. One day, many years ago, I was enjoying the cool shade of a lovely garden. Something rustled nearby and as I crept out to get a better look, I saw a beautiful little girl. She had wavy, blonde hair and big, curious blue eyes. And she smiled down at me.
I bid her hello and she answered me with a greeting of her own. I was so surprised. So many are frightened of me when I speak. I knew then that I had found a special child and a friend.
We stayed close through the years, she and I. I shared her joys and sorrows. She listened to me while I talked. Never did she shy away, even when others didn't understand our bond.
The girl had a talent for art, drawing and painting. I watched as she chronicled our time. She grew into a woman and finally came to live in a special place where others believed her. And she was happy there."

"Thank you, Lawrence."

"You're welcome, Tess."

A woman in brightly-colored scrubs walked up behind Tess and studied the crayon drawing. In it a young girl child bent over a fat frog as if in conversation.

"I see you drew another picture of you and Lawrence, hun."

"Yes, Nurse Hopper. Do you like it?"

"I do. Shall we hang it with the others?"

"Yes ma'am I'd like that."

Together, the two women walked into Tess's room. Row upon row of crayon drawings of the same little girl and the fat frog lined the walls.


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