Maisie's Lake
By Angie Bromeland
Maisie was filled with contentment. She sat in her little canoe amid the floating lily pads. She knew she would have to go home eventually, but that wasn’t preventing her from enjoying her little escape now. A blue dragonfly—a damsel fly, Maisie remembered thoughtfully—landed on the lily pad closest to her. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” Maisie smiled at the insect. Its wings fluttered quickly and they glinted like rainbows in the sunlight. Maisie knew some kids would shoo it away, or maybe even capture it to keep for a collection, but she thought that was mean. She loved nature. She never wanted to keep anything for herself—she’d rather enjoy it where it belonged. That’s why she never picked flowers, frightened away birds, or chased after bunnies. She was very intentional about this, for she knew these things held a special place in the world outside. Before long, Maisie noticed the sun lowering into the horizon. She sighed sadly. Maybe it was true to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz that there was “no place like home,” but for Maisie, the place that held the most sacred part of her heart was on this very lake, surrounded by nature’s décor. To Maisie, the fanciest penthouse in the fanciest city in the whole wide world couldn’t compare to here. Maisie dipped her paddle into the quiet lake, and whispered an apology to the fish she startled. She rowed until the canoe’s underside rubbed against the soft sand of the shore. She leapt out and pulled the canoe to its resting place beneath the old willow tree. Maisie glanced at the lake one last time, then turned and sprinted home. She would be back again tomorrow. And the next day. Because to Maisie, there was no place like the lake.
Maisie was filled with contentment. She sat in her little canoe amid the floating lily pads. She knew she would have to go home eventually, but that wasn’t preventing her from enjoying her little escape now. A blue dragonfly—a damsel fly, Maisie remembered thoughtfully—landed on the lily pad closest to her. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” Maisie smiled at the insect. Its wings fluttered quickly and they glinted like rainbows in the sunlight. Maisie knew some kids would shoo it away, or maybe even capture it to keep for a collection, but she thought that was mean. She loved nature. She never wanted to keep anything for herself—she’d rather enjoy it where it belonged. That’s why she never picked flowers, frightened away birds, or chased after bunnies. She was very intentional about this, for she knew these things held a special place in the world outside. Before long, Maisie noticed the sun lowering into the horizon. She sighed sadly. Maybe it was true to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz that there was “no place like home,” but for Maisie, the place that held the most sacred part of her heart was on this very lake, surrounded by nature’s décor. To Maisie, the fanciest penthouse in the fanciest city in the whole wide world couldn’t compare to here. Maisie dipped her paddle into the quiet lake, and whispered an apology to the fish she startled. She rowed until the canoe’s underside rubbed against the soft sand of the shore. She leapt out and pulled the canoe to its resting place beneath the old willow tree. Maisie glanced at the lake one last time, then turned and sprinted home. She would be back again tomorrow. And the next day. Because to Maisie, there was no place like the lake.
Comments
This little story warmed my heart. I can see myself sitting amongst the Lilly pads in my kayak watching the dragonflies and damsel flies land on me. In fact, I have done this on a floaty. As of last year I am the proud new owner of a kayak.
Love you