Awaiting Mother’s Ride

By: Darla J. Bowen

A thick blanket of snow covered the ground. Flora spent the morning watching the children of the valley village play with their sleighs and dogs. She left no footprints as she made her way home. At home, she found Mother brewing a pot of tea.

“Are you going for your ride today?” Flora removed her fluffy white cape and hung it on the hook by the door. “Not today.” Mother retrieved three cups from the cabinet.

Flora smiled. “Good. The children are so enjoying the snow. They were laughing as they slid down the hills with their dogs chasing after them.”

“That does sound lovely.” Mother pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders. When the tea was finished brewing she poured some in each cup and added some fresh honey. “I think my ride can wait a few days more, then.” She gave Flora one of the cups and sat another on the table across from her. “Solarus, come get your tea, dear.” She took a seat in her large rocking chair by the window.

Still looking at a book, Solarus came and joined them. He sipped his tea. Peering over at Flora he whispered, “Mother’s not riding today?”

Flora shook her head. Solarus resumed reading. Mother rocked contently sipping her tea by the window, looking out at the snow that lay outside.

***

Flora sat in a tree watching the children below. They were not laughing as they had before. They sat on their sleighs with their dogs laying beside them.

“When is spring going to get here?” One girl asked.

A boy sighed heavily. “I don’t know. My father said it’s already late, and our stores are about gone. If spring don’t come soon, we’ll have to go hunt beyond the valley.”

A little girl buried her head in her hands. “I don’t want you to go.”

Frowning, Flora slid down the tree and headed for home. The children did not notice her leave.

At home, Mother was asleep in her huge bed under a heavy quilt. It was Flora’s favorite; each block showed the face of a different spring flower.

Flora sheepishly approached the bed and touched her mother on the shoulder. “Are you going for your ride today?”

Mother opened her eyes. “Not today.” Suppressing a cough, she pulled the quilt tighter about herself, then rolled over.

Making sure her mother was comfortable, Flora went in the other room to brew some tea. Solarus lay on the rug by the fire playing with his carved wooden animals.

“Mother is not riding again today.”

Solarus looked up. “Maybe she will tomorrow.”

“I hope so. The children in the village want spring to come soon.”

“It will.” Solarus resumed playing with his animals.

Flora prepared three cups of tea, carefully adding fresh honey. She took Mother a cup of tea and left it on the stand beside her bed. Sitting in Mother’s rocking chair, she glanced out the window at the snow and sighed.

***

Flora stood on the hill the children usually played at, but no one was there. She made her way to the village. She found the children sitting quietly while the adults met in the Great Hall. None saw her as she stood by the door listening to their discussion.

“Spring has never been this long in coming,” said an old woman with hair the color of the snow that covered the ground. “Not in all my long years.”

“We must make preparations to leave.”

“We can’t leave. Where would we go? The mountain passes are still covered.”

“If we don’t leave, then we’ve got to at least send out hunters. None of the traders have been able to make it to us with the passes closed, and the food stores are nearly depleted.”

The children sat quietly and listened. They sat with shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. There was none of their normal joy that fascinated Flora.

Flora went home. She found Mother propped up in bed, covered in the flower quilt, blowing her nose into her kerchief. “Mother, are you going for your ride today?” Flora felt foolish for asking.

Mother smiled weakly. “Not today.”

Flora did not leave, but lingered by Mother’s bed. “Mother, you must. The children have stopped playing and the adults are talking of leaving the valley. You have to ride.”

Mother blew her nose again. “Flora, I wish I could. But I am sick and cannot ride. Not today.”

Mother coughed. She looked at Flora, then at her riding mantle hanging on the wall. “You are right. The ride must be made.”

Flora smiled that Mother agreed with her. “But if you don’t ride, who will?”

Mother stood up and walked to her riding mantle. It was a long, pale blue cape, lined and edged in white fur. “You will make the ride this time, Flora.” Mother flung the mantle around Flora’s shoulders and clasped the silver frog at her neck. The garment drug the ground.

“Mother, I can’t make the ride. Not alone.”

“Solarus, please come here a moment.”

Solarus came in, carrying his sketch paper and stick of charcoal. “Yes, Mother.”

Mother opened the cabinet in her room and pulled out an ornate golden lantern that hung from the top of a heavy wooden pole. She had him set his paper and charcoal on her bed, then handed him the pole and lantern.

“I cannot ride this year.” She stifled a sneeze. “But together, you two will ride in my place.” Flora and Solarus looked at each other, then followed Mother as she led them to the woods behind their cottage.

She called out and a pair of griffins came running to her from the woods. They had the bodies of lions and the heads and wings of eagles. Mother greeted each in turn then led them all to the shed where the chariot was stored. Flora and Solarus opened the doors. They rolled the chariot from the shed and carried out the tack.

The griffins stood patiently while Mother showed them how to properly harness them . Mother cleared her throat. “There we are, you are ready for your ride.” “But I don’t know what to do.” Flora felt very small in Mother’s riding mantle.

Mother knelt over and kissed Flora on the forehead. “Yes, you do. You’ve watched me every year as I go out for my ride. Let the mantle fly from your shoulders.” She checked Solarus’ grasp on the pole and lantern, then snapped her fingers and lit the candle. “Hold the lantern high.” She leaned down and hugged both her children. “Hold on tight and the griffins will bring you safely home.”

Flora and Solarus stepped onto the chariot. Solarus stood in front, holding tight to the pole and lantern. Flora stood behind him, grasping the reins around him. With a gently flick of the reins, the griffins took off, gaining speed as they slid across the snow and gradually lifted into the sky.

Mother sat on the bench beside the cottage. She watched as Solarus lifted the lantern a little higher and as Flora stood a little taller, the pale blue mantle trailing so gracefully behind them.

***

The children wandered outside as the meeting in the Great Hall concluded. They did not feel like playing. Some of the boys were going to be leaving soon, to help their fathers with the hunt.

“It feels warmer than it did this morning,” one of the girls said, loosening the shawl from her shoulders.

“Look at that.” A little boy pointed up at the sky. The grey of winter had been replaced by a pale blue sky with large, puffy white clouds. The sun seemed to gleam so much brighter than before.

“Do you think spring might be here?”

“I sure hope so.”

“I wouldn’t have to leave after all,” said one of the older boys. “The passes will open and the traders can come through.”

The children smiled and laughed. They ran off to tell their parents, who came out to wonder in the warm sunlight. Water began to drip from the awnings. The children grabbed their sleighs and ran with their dogs to the hill, to get in a few remaining rides before spring melted the snow away.