A Snow Drop Welcome

In March, in Gasparian, New York, the Snow Drops were the first flowers to show themselves after the long, cold months of winter.

Mrs. Snyder figured she was probably the only one to even notice the precious things and she did her best every year to prolong their short lives.

The only thing, however, she was ninety-two years old and to carry the filled water bucket with her walker, she had to lift it a few feet, put it down, struggle forward, then pick it up again, until she reached her precious, fleeting beauties. She tipped the bucket and they drank.

While she was hunched over, tipping the life-giving water, a loud noise approached fast over her shoulder, so loud she jumped in fright and dropped the heavy water bucket onto her flowers, crushing them.

Her backyard was lined by thick bushes and whatever it was apparently landed in the middle of them. Mrs. Snyder pushed herself up into a walking position and bravely shuffled to the still vibrating vegetation.

From out of it came a tall man with a black coat. His mouth smiled, though his eyes frowned. Peach sat on his shoulder, but she went unnoticed.

Mrs. Snyder was confused, to say the least, even perhaps a bit frightened, but she was determined to remain hospitable, as was the way of the people in her town.