April 20
by Jim Smith

Our mother seldom overlooked an opportunity to promote felicity between my sister and me. Sister Phyllis was nine years my junior. Despite the disparate interests implied by our age difference, and my disinclination, mother often encouraged me to include her in my activities. When she was about 4 and I about 13, Phyllis accompanied me on a snowy day on what mother chose to call “a nature walk”.

The winter landscape included snow cover about a foot deep embossed with a profusion of rabbit tracks. As we crossed an open meadow, Phyllis observed numerous piles of rabbit droppings and asked what they were.

I told her they were “rabbit seeds” and suggested that they might grow into bunnies if they were planted in our garden next spring. She was excited and elated. Reluctant to either quench or diminish her enthusiasm with the absolute truth, I was a quiet observer while. Phyllis was busy filling her pockets and the hood of her parka with the “seeds”.

After we returned home, she deposited the “seeds” on the kitchen table. She shared the exciting news of our find with mother. After mother shared the absolute truth with her, Phyllis was consoled and I was counseled.

Read about Jim on the Writer’s Bios Page