Contents

The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920

Update item information
Title Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 08
Subject Pioneers
Description Stories and poems about early Southern Utah Pioneers
Publisher Snow College
Date 1976
Type Text
Format image/jpeg
Language eng
Rights Management Snow College
Holding Institution Snow College
ARK ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-26
Date Modified 2005-02-26
ID 325605
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf

Page Metadata

Title The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920
Description Then Mother was lifting me up, holding me as I shook, bracing me in my blind grasping. Gently she began to walk. "Bring him," she said quietly to Mr. Olsen, who had come through the gathered crowd to Mother and me. Mother bathed my face in cold water and took off my shiny new shoes. She talked softly, but I do not know what she said. She gave me something warm to drink. I must have fallen into a half-sleep, but I knew Mother stayed by me. This was the only time she had missed the Fourth of July town meeting. Mother was a pianist, and was to perform that day and I was to wear a costume and be part of a singing flag, but no one came for us. Elaine, of course, was at the meeting for no meeting is complete without a Goddess of Liberty. When I regained my senses, Mother carried a box into my room. "Nigel," she said, "it is good to say a last goodbye." She put the box on my bed. I looked in, but I did not touch the dead cat. His eyes and mouth were closed now, and a wide white bandage was wrapped around his middle. There was no blood. "He has always been a good cat. He will be happy in Heaven," Mother comforted. And then I stroked him and cried again. In mid-afternoon Mother and I took the box to the far end of our lot. In the distance we could hear the games going on at the park. Children were squealing, and parents were urging them on. Sometimes the sound of men contesting the strength of their arms and their horses burst louder than the children's noise. All around our dirge the lively celebration continued. My eyes were swollen, and my lips quivered, but I didn't cry. Silently, Mother and I dug a shallow grave and put the box in it. And I pushed the first dirt in. Even now, after years, sometimes I think I can still hear the dreadful thud of clods hitting that box. We had no more than walked into the house than there came a knocking at the door. It was the actor and actress. I had forgotten. "No! No!" I screamed. "Not Tobit's chair!" I ran to the back room and latched onto the faded chair. "You can't take it. You can't take it now." -24-
Format image/jpeg
Identifier 034_The Gift - A Moment in Reflection, Autumn, 1920.jpg
Source Saga of the Sanpitch Vol 8
Setname snowc_sts
Date Created 2005-02-19
Date Modified 2005-02-19
ID 325585
Reference URL https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6rr1wdf/325585