A woman, feeling depressed and alone, decided to blow off some steam by going for a drive. She picked a direction and just kept going until she came to a toll bridge. As she pulled up to the booth, she … Continue reading
Since puberty, Bill knew one girl was his destiny,
but each first date made him more uncertain.
What if he missed his opportunity?
On the other hand…
He dreamed of buying a condominium.
One on a high floor,
overlooking Lake Michigan.
At first he feared the future,
moving forward without a mate,
but he didn’t want one unmet wish to kill another.
Bill hired an agent on the double.
Her advice was on point, and her salesmanship…impeccable.
Of course, that’s the moment he fell in love.
– Alex Schattner (8/7/12)
Sam Wrighton was the proud coach of a little league baseball team, The Rocketeers. He held the role for two seasons, and was moving into his third. The previous coach had taken the job way too seriously. He quit due … Continue reading
Mr. and Mrs. Morris owned Emerald Meadows, a 200-acre farm in Corvallis, Oregon. When they originally bought the property, they had intended to grow hearty vegetables, but their neighbors warned that it was a fool’s mission. “The only thing that will grow here is grass seed,” they said, and the Morris’s were inclined to believe them. There wasn’t much choice. They needed the land to start making money as soon as possible.
Even so, the Morris’s learned to love their farm, and the little Victorian house in which they resided. The calm that came with the farming lifestyle suited them fine, and they required no one but each other for company. Their only concern was what would happen to the farm in the future when they were too old to work it. They had no children, and the generation behind seemed to prefer the bustle of cities.
Decades past, and the Morris’s indeed grew older. Their back problems worsened, and they found that it took twice as long to complete half as much work. As a new planting time came upon them they realized that they required help. So, they wrote an ad, “Seeking Two Capable Farmhands,” and paid a neighborhood boy to post it online. That night they received a call at eight o’clock sharp.
“We’re on our way,” said a spirited young woman’s voice.
“Who are you?” asked Mr. Morris, but the woman had already hung up. At dawn, the Morris’s were awoken by the sound of a car coming up their gravel driveway. They peered out there window in time to see a young couple step out of their Prius. The young man wore skinny jeans and military jacket. The young woman had short brown hair, big blue eyes, and wore a floral sundress.
“Hollywood people are invading our house,” said Mrs. Morris, more curious than concerned.
“Well let’s see what they want,” said Mr. Morris, debating whether to take the shotgun from beside the bed. They both walked downstairs, and opened the front door.
“We saw your ad in the paper,” said the young man, “It is just what we have been looking for. I’m Tom and this is my wife Kim.” Kim hugged her “new friends,” before Mr. and Mrs. Morris could say anything to the contrary.
“Have you farmed before?” asked Mrs. Morris.
“We grow beans,” said Tom, “We’ve grown them in Iowa, Kansas, and Wisconsin, and now we’d like to grow them here.”
“The only thing that grows here is grass,” said Mr. Morris.
“If you provide us with a little plot of land, we will prove to you otherwise,” said Tom. “If nothing grows within a month of us planting our beans, you can kick us out. In the meantime, my wife and I will tend to your farm’s needs. All we ask in return is three square meals a day, and a room to sleep.” Mr. Morris looked at his guests suspiciously, but his wife spoke first.
“You’re hired,” said Mrs. Morris, and that was the last word on the subject. Little did they know that this decision would be even greater than they could ever imagine. Tom and Kim plowed all 200 acres in two days, and planted grass seeds on 199 of them. The last acre, the one nearest to the house, they kept for the beans. For a time, everything worked out just as the Morris’s had suspected. The grasslands became green, and the nearest acre remained dead and brown.
“I told you,” Mr. Morris said after a month, “only grass seed grows here.”
“They are not growing, because Kim and I haven’t planted them yet,” Tom said, “The ground must be perfectly warm. Planting them too soon is as bad as not planting them at all. Maybe tomorrow I will plant them.”
“I said I would give you a month,” said Mr. Morris, angered, “And you have done nothing!”
“You agreed to give us a month after the beans were planted,” said Kim. This made Mr. Morris furious, but he realized that Kim was right, and he had to stand by his word.
So, Mr. Morris watched and waited. Every day he would ask, “Have you planted the seeds yet,” and every day Tom would say, “No, maybe tomorrow.” Then, one morning in mid-June, Mr. Morris awoke to the sound of sprinkling water. Tom and Kim were out in the field. He was laying down the seeds, and Kim was watering by hand. The work was tedious, but they didn’t seem to mind. The smiles on their faces were so genuine and optimistic, that even Mr. Morris started to believe the beans would grow.
And grow they did, practically overnight, and Kim continued to water all the plants by hand. Mr. and Mrs. Morris joined in as well, and the beanstalks grew ten feet tall. Their neighbors soon heard of the beans, and came to gawk first-hand.
“How did you do this?” one of neighbors asked, “It’s a miracle.”
“It’s not a miracle,” Tom responded. “Sometimes heartier plants require more patience.” And from then on, the Morris’s grew whatever crops they wished, and Tom and Kim became their family. News of Emerald Meadows’s success spread across the country, and encouraged other young people to flock to Oregon, and carry on the farming tradition.
This story is written and owned by Alex Schattner
At night, fireflies light up Louisiana’s swamps like twinkle lights in New Orleans’s French Quarter. Their bright bodies call out to potential mates, for not all of them flash at the same rates. Each must find their match if they … Continue reading