Flowers From The Past


The air shimmered as if I were engulfed by a desert mirage. Down to my left through deep gray rocks flowed a beautiful creek from the Pennsylvania hills way up ahead. I had finished my morning rollers and was on a gravel path North.

I sat very still alone in the morning sun as I heard whispers from down below. Hidden by thick green leaves she dared to peep out scanning the woods with her large deep dark eyes. Suddenly I could see them all…a young mother and three little ones camouflaged by the rocks behind.

Escaped slaves…

I sat wondering “ How did I get here?!”… but Time has no boundaries in my world…

The little ones …frightened, hungry and tired …pleaded with their mother for food…

“ Wes lost lil uns…Wes on ours own”.

She looked up to see me standing there next to a bike all decked out in my bright orange garb. Of the three I’m not sure what scared her the most. Before she could dive back into the woods I placed one hand on my heart and with the other pointed forward … North…

Exhausted she seemed to understand…she nodded her head and slowly crawled up the bank with the three little ones behind.

Onward we moved …slowly so slowly …

Dog barks would lead her to scurry down the bank to wade in the stream throwing off the scents. Sometimes all 4 would just disappear for days as I pedaled on… who am I to understand how my travels work…

For a good while I saw none of them but wondered at intermittent shimmerings in the woods to my left.

I finally reached the border and sat down on an old wooden bench. From behind me whispers again and there they were hidden in the creek.

I looked to my right and up ahead could see an old Quaker couple frantically waving a white kerchief. I looked in front of me… a shadow…but the best possible from their time…from a tree marking the Mason Dixon line.

I looked again beneath the branches over the creek and motioned her forward with all due haste.

All 4 stepped out drenching wet and rushed North to freedom at last.

She turned one last time as did the three little ones who now brave enough in safety asked what I was…

“ Dats an Angel of God lil ones”…

I turned to see Angel and Flossie there… they had been leading them all along.

I placed my hand on my heart, she did the same, and we nodded to each other…and both went North …more than a century and a half apart.

Along the way I found the “forget me nots” she had left for me for this very day…seeds planted so long ago…maybe just yesterday.

Todays ride is dedicated to all mothers…

One thought on “Flowers From The Past

  1. A mother’s love remembered – not forgotten.


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