edward's blog: "Ed's Place "

An old was walking in the woods one day. It was a beautiful day and perfect for a nice walk in the forest. He stopped to rest for a minute and heard a tiny voice say, "Old man, old man, please pick me up."

Well, the old man looked everywhere for the person talking to him. He could not find anyone. He took another step and the voice spoke to him again, "Old man, old man, down here in the leaves. I'm down here by your feet. Please pick me up."

The old man looked down and saw a small frog. He thought, this can't be where the voice is coming from. I must be imagining this.

The frog spoke again, "It is me old man speaking to you. I am a frog. Please pick me up."

Now, the old man thought he was really not feeling well. The frog could not be the source of the voice.

The frog spoke again, "Please pick me up. Yes, I am a frog, please pick me up."

The old man reached down into the leaves and picked up the small frog. He still could not quite believe this.

The frog spoke again, "Old man, if you kiss me I will turn into a beautiful princess and stay with you the rest of your life."

Well, the old man, he looked over the frog quite closely. He looked all around the forest to see if he was alone. He moved his face quite close to the frog and then he put the  frog in his pocket.

As the old man continued down the forest path he mumbled, "I'd rather have a talking frog any day."

"Even now, what can I say to you? It all happened so long ago. Yes, I remember it clearly, but they are my memories, and mine to choose to share. I know I've never told anyone about this - the less said the better."

She stopped talking and stared down at her hands. Moments of silence passed which seemed long and strained the quiet.

After a while, she started talking again.

"I promised myself never to speak about this to anyone. I hate breaking that promise, even for you, but...I suppose I must."

We just sat there again without speaking, the silence creeping back into the room and slipping over the last echoes of sound. I regretted this visit, the question asked, and my making her feel so painfully uncomfortable. Yet, I knew that from this moment on, we would think of nothing else.

Her cat tip-toed into the room. Cats always seem to be able to find comfort even in the most awkward of times. It licked its paws and curled up on a chair in the corner acting like we were the intruders.

After another eternity she began again, "You know, he wasn't really a bad person; we all loved him so."

"He could make us laugh until we ached."

I watched a hint of a smile pass across her face.

"Mother loved him the way you love your firstborn, and she hated him too. Once, she damned him to hell."

I just looked at her now and never said a word. This was hers to share if she wanted to. My part in this whole affair was over. I listened now whether I wanted to or not. I set something in motion, and now it had to find its own time to stop.