A little girl's best intentions become a source of memories...

Jacqueline’s Vase
    
      It was a beautiful warm and sunny spring day.  Jacqueline looked out of the window and saw that it was an almost perfect blue sky.  Soft fluffy white clouds dotted the atmosphere, the sun shone brightly through the window and she felt comfortable and safe.
          But, what was she going to do this afternoon?  It was Saturday, her parents had gone town to shop for groceries and such, her brothers had gone for a bicycle ride, and had told her that she was not allowed to go along as her tricycle could not keep up with them.  Jacqueline felt alone even though her brothers were nearby.  She had seen them take their fishing rods so she knew they were just at the creek at the end of their property.  Jacqueline wondered how she would keep herself busy until her mother came back from town. 
              "I know," she thought to herself. “Mom had one job left to do this morning that she did not have time for.  I'll dust for her.  Won't she be happy with me?"  Jacqueline dug one of the dust cloths from her mother's dust cloth bin and looked around at the furniture. "Well the buffet certainly needs dusting," she thought, "and the coffee table, and the dressers, and the end tables."  Oh the list went on and on.
          She felt so grown up inside, so sure of herself, how she would surprise her mother with all the work she had done; so her mother would not have to do it.  She began with the end tables.  Easy job, just lift the lamps a little, just like she saw her mother do, put them back in place and presto, there, nice shiny end tables. 
          She then went over to the buffet.  There were many fragile things on the buffet; many of her mother's precious things.  She took her dusting cloth and ever so gently began dusting the buffet.  She lifted the porcelain doll, and put her back.  She lifted her mother's glass-framed picture of grandpa and grandma and put that back, dusting all the while. She then lifted her mother's precious porcelain vase and began to dust with one hand while holding the vase in the other hand.
          Suddenly, it was like there was oil or soap in Jacqueline's right hand, the vase started to slip from her hand, she quickly threw the dusting cloth onto the floor to grasp the vase, but it was too late.  The beautiful porcelain vase slipped to the floor and broke into a hundred pieces.
          Jacqueline couldn't believe what had just happened.  She felt her heart beating hard and fast in her chest.  What was she going to do?  Her mother had told her many times the story of that vase.  It had been passed down for generations; her mother had packed it so carefully when they had left the coast of France to come to Canada.  Jacqueline almost felt sick about it.  What would her mother say?  What would her father say?  What would her brother's say?
          She knew her parents would be back from town very soon with the groceries.  She knew how sad and disappointed her mother would be with what had happened.  Jacqueline could not bear it.  She quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbed a paper bag and put all the pieces of the vase into it.
       Then she stopped.  What was she to do with this bag of broken glass?  She sat down on the floor of the living room to think.  Her head was reeling with thoughts.  "I know," she thought, "I'll quickly bury it in the garden.  No one will ever find it there."  After all, her father always said, "If you put good things back into the ground it will make the garden much more productive”.
           Remembering that, she ran into the barn, grabbed a shovel, and ran back to the garden.  She had not realized how hard it would be to dig a hole with a shovel!  She dug hard with the shovel until the hole was big enough.  Finally she succeeded.  She dropped the paper bag with the broken pieces into the hole and quickly shovelled the dirt back onto it to make it look like the rest of the garden.  "There," she thought, "No one will ever know."
          She hurriedly ran to the barn to put the shovel back, and then thought to herself, "Mother will notice the missing vase right away as it was her favourite. What could she do?"
          She looked outside, it was getting dark, her parents would be back soon and it would be supper time.  She looked around the barn.  There was a large cardboard box sitting in the corner between the horse's stall and the cow's stall.  Jacqueline climbed into it, closed the lid and prayed and waited.
          It seemed like hours before she heard the car drive into the gravelled yard.  From inside her hiding place she heard hoots and hollers from her brothers announcing that her mother and father were home.
          No one seemed to be missing her, at least not for a few minutes.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  Good, maybe they could have their supper, brush their teeth and go to bed, then she would sneak into the house, very quietly, unnoticed, and in the morning no one would say anything and she would not be in any trouble.
          She knew everyone had gone into the house as she could not hear any more voices.  It was very, very quiet in the barn, Jacqueline moved her body around inside the box to make herself more comfortable then closed her eyes and waited.
          After a while, it seemed to be a very long time for Jacqueline, she heard her father calling for her.  She also heard her mother and brothers calling for her.  Jacqueline was afraid, what should she do?  Should she climb out of the box? Should she stay in hiding until morning?  What if her father called the police because she was missing?  She felt tear drops stinging her eyelids.  "Please God," she prayed, "What should I do?"  She quietly opened the lid of the box and peeked around the barn.  She could not see very much as it was very dark.  She heard the barn owl hoot.  She heard the cat brushing her tail against the box; she saw their cow with her baby calf in the stall next to her.  Their horse neighed noisily and brushed her neck and mane against the post. 
          Finally she heard footsteps entering the barn.  It was her father.  She climbed out of the box and ran to her father.  "Jacqueline!" her father exclaimed; “You scared me half to death!"  What are you doing alone in the barn?"  Jacqueline started to cry; her father hugged her and said, "Jacqueline, we were worried about you. Why did you not come when we called you?"  After a short while the little girl stopped crying.  "Here, come inside the house and tell me what happened today," said her father.
          Jacqueline's little heart was beating fast as she was walking towards their house.  What would her father and mother say when she told them what happened?  Oh well, she had better tell the truth or she would certainly have to face the consequences.  They walked into the house and everyone seemed quite happy and relieved to see her.  She was bombarded with questions.  "Where have you been?” asked her brothers.  "Are you hungry or cold?” asked her mother.  "No mother," answered Jacqueline.  "I'm fine." 
          She knew it was time to tell her story so she cleared her throat and began.  She told them all that had happened that afternoon.  When she was finished she looked up and saw that her father and mother were smiling, even her brothers were giggling.  "What is so funny?" she asked.  "You silly" said one of her brothers.  "You don't bury glass in a garden!" She heard her brothers giggle some more.  Her father looked at her and said, "Well Jacqueline, it is good that you told the truth, therefore you will not be punished because the reason you did what you did was good.  You wanted to help your mother.  It is too bad the vase broke but I will make sure to get another vase for you mother."  Jacqueline breathed a sigh of relief.  "Now, let's go to the garden and find your buried treasure," her father said with a quiet laugh.    
          They went hand in hand to the garden and Jacqueline showed her father when she had buried the vase.  They dug it up and placed it in the recycling bin for glass.  Her father again said that what she had done was fine but that she did not have to hide if something went wrong.
     A few weeks later, Jacqueline and her mother went together to get the mail.  There were two packages from Europe in the mail.  "Oh, they are from France!" her mother said.  "And look, one is for you Jacqueline."  They ran home and hurriedly opened the packages.  To their delight, especially Jacqueline's, there were two porcelain vases; a larger one for her mother and a smaller one for her.  She felt so happy inside; she knew her father had ordered these. She couldn't wait to thank him. 
          Jacqueline was allowed to place her vase wherever she wanted, so she put it on her dresser facing her bed so she could see it every morning when she woke up.
          "Tomorrow," she thought, "I will go to the forest and pick beautiful flowers to fill my mother's vase and my own vase." 
          That night she fell asleep dreaming of being in a beautiful meadow full of lovely flowers of every colour imaginable.
 
The End