The Field of Fireflies

Its funny how the most trivial things unfurl such magnificent stories

          

           

                                   

           

            The Field of Fireflies

 

 

                        The cold wind combed through the branches and rustled the leaves of the trees which stood by the lake, causing a few of them to softly plummet down to the surface on the crystal water below and some to be carried away by it. Whistling along the blades of grass, the wind mixed them with dry velvet petals, creating a whirlwind in a magnificent array of colors. 

            Amidst all this, the breeze now carelessly ruffled dark brown locks of a seven year olds wavy hair, causing her to ruthlessly calm them down and throw them into a messy bun behind her head.

            This seven year old girl, continued to stare thoughtlessly into space as she sat on the edge of the lake, completely oblivious to the beauty around her. Her gray, misty eyes were dotted with tears waiting to be shed and her toes were unconsciously caressing the black opal water beneath her, as one pale knee supported the weight of her face, covered with signs of a pensive nature.

            As if on cue, her fingers entwined themselves with the lace sewn on the corners of her white cotton dress. Her freckled nose wrinkled, her lips twitched and one by one, clear droplets of tears trickled down her cheeks. Her vision began to blur and soft sobs escaped her lips. So without a single human soul in sight, she decided to voice out the reason of her solemn outburst.

            “Mommy and Daddy always fight,” she whispered, as her tears continued to fall on her dress, fading into wet patches on her lap. “Mommy and Daddy hate each other,” she continued, “They shout at me...they hate me too...”

            Now she propped up both her knees and slowly fell backwards creating a soft thud on the grass. Her palms were facing the sky, enveloped with dense clouds outlined in silver.

            Kayla gasped as a thought crossed her mind. Mommy always used to say Kayla was strong and she never used to cry for more than a few seconds. Not for bruises, never for cuts or anything of that sort. If Kayla would stop crying and show Mommy how strong she still is, maybe Mommy would praise her. And will Daddy too. They will be happy, and maybe they would stop arguing....

           

            Lost in her small assumptions, Kayla jumped as something blue, swiftly flew over her. She sat up, blinked the remaining tears away and looked around. Her eyes found a sky blue kite that had landed on the ground near her. It was a pretty thing; hand made, with slender branches tied tightly with white woolen strings and covered with blue paper. Kayla reached for it, but the wind stole it further away and now it was dangerously perched over the edge of a rock, close to the water.

            Without thinking where it came from, she crawled to where it was and reached out for it once more, wincing as she grazed her arm over the sharp surface of the rock. Once in her firm grasp, she lifted the kite and sat back to wonder who it belonged to. But before she could, a boy’s voice bellowed behind her.

            “That's mine!” he said, loud enough for nearby squirrels to run away.

            Clearly confused, Kayla stood up with the kite between her hands. She watched the boy as he angrily marched towards her, readying himself to fight for the kite if he had to.

            “I said that's mine so give it ba-” before the boy could finish, Kayla threw the kite before him and turned away. Just looking at how the boy was yelling at her, made her mad. No more yelling, no more shouting. That's what made her run away from her home in the first place. The noises of her parent’s loud voices were still ringing in her ears.

            “You don’t hav’ta be so mean about it.” The boy made a face, as he picked up the kite to speculate it of any damage the girl might have caused it.

            As he did this, Kayla’s nose began to twitch again. No. She was not going to cry. She was not going to...

           

 

The boy, satisfied of obtaining his prize, turned around to leave. But something stopped him. He furrowed his eyebrows together as his ears caught faint sounds of someone sobbing. Curious, he turned around and approached the girl to find her...crying.

            Alarmed and unaware of the fact that she had been doing the same thing before, the boy figured that his rude behavior must have triggered the girl to cry. His Ma said girls were very sensitive and they were prone to cry for the smallest of things. Ma also said that the right thing to do would be to apologize if one were to make a girl cry.

            “I didn’t mean it,” the boy raised his hands defenselessly. “I am sorry, please don’t cry.” He touched Kayla’s shoulder and she turned around.

            Immediately Kayla rubbed her eyes and tried to wipe away any signs of weeping. She wasn’t supposed to cry. She didn’t know how her eyes filled themselves with more tears. And it was most certainly stupid to so in front of someone she hardly knew.

When she dropped her hands, she got her first look at the boy standing before her.

            He was seemingly tall for his age and looked to be about a year or two older than her. His hair was dark blonde with wisps of light brown strands, resembling the color of honey. His face looked reflective as his blue eyes looked back at her.

           

To break the silence of the moment which seemed to stretch on, Kayla shook her head, releasing her ringlets to fall around her shoulders. “Your kite was about to fall into the lake,” she began to explain. “I pulled it away from there” she pointed to the side of the rock.

             The boy did not reply. He just looked at her as if contemplating on a matter. There was something in the way her regarded her that made Kayla automatically self conscious.

            “You’re hurt” he told her, heedless of everything she had just said to him.

            Kayla looked down at her arm. It was wounded, she knew that, but only when the boy pointed it out to her that she noticed the searing pain. No, she wasn’t going to cry anymore. This time she promised herself she wouldn’t. Also, there was nothing left to shed.

            “Umm...” Kayla shook her arm dismissively to prove to herself that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. But she ended up cringing instead.

            “I’ll take you to Ma” the boy said instinctively, smiling at the thought. “She’ll know how to fix it up”

            Surprising Kayla, the boy took her by the hand and wordlessly steered her away from the lake. And strangely enough, Kayla let him.

           

           

             Boys aren’t usually that talkative, but this one was. As they walked through the forest, under thick canopies with rare glimpses of sunlight, the boy was constantly creating one form of entertainment or the other. He would either show Kayla all the tricks he could do, or he’d be telling her about the mechanics of the kite he made. When tired of everything else, he would cheerfully whistle to himself.

Kayla would patiently listen to him as he would tell her why he and his mother were now living in the forest all by themselves. At some points in their conversation, Kayla would slip in a question or two about the forest which the boy claimed to know so much about.

            He would happily tell her why bears were in hibernation, or how the seeds of oak trees can fly with the current of the wind. Also how delicate dandelions were that if you were to blow on one, the cottony bits would drift away. She would ponder on them for a few moments and then come up with a few more questions.

            His words seemed to wrap her in wonder. This was not the first time she had visited this forest, but this was certainly the first time she found out about the wonderful things it held. The boy said so many things, fascinating her timid mind, revealing small mysteries of nature she never knew.

            But often than most times, despite the slight enthusiasm, the boy would mark how the girl used to smile and then lapse into gloom. His innocent mind still considered it his mistake for the way he had acted before. But how were he to know the true cause?

            He tried to lift her spirits. It was something Ma said he was good at, to make people’s lips curve into a smile of their own.

So he showed her more things to try and make her happy again. Such as the beauty resting in a nest of snowy white little creatures; birds yet to learn the true meaning of freedom. He made her laugh by resting a yellow-green butterfly on the tip of her nose and presenting her with a bouquet of wild, radiant flowers. He made her realize the joy in discovering a small field of violet morning glories, inhaling the sweet air surrounding them.

            Unconsciously, he was trying to teach her how to live the like the child she was. Leaving heavy worries behind her and reserving them for the future years of her life. Her years now, were to be comprised with reasons to live life through the sight of a wandering imagination, to be free as the sunlight enveloping them, to feel as alive as the forest they were in, and most importantly, to learn how be happy.

           

           

            Soon, they found themselves before a cabin bordered with an iron rusted gate. The boy picked up the latch of the gate and led them through the small garden. Kayla saw many exotic flowers, much like the ones they saw in the forest, but these ones were neatly padded into the ground. There were also orchards of fruits of different kind and in a display of colors, each ripe enough to pick.  She smiled as her surroundings made her think of a fairy tale her maid once told her...

            “It was a small, beautiful house with a garden filled with many rainbow colored flowers and delicious fruits. Everyday, the girl would pick some flowers to bring to the sick old lady as she knew the old lady loved them....”

           

Just like her tale, this house was small and yet it had every sensation of it being called a home. When she entered the house, a rich fragrance of oranges and cinnamon filled the air around her. She looked around to find nothing much materialistically, but there was a captivating charm to it she couldn’t fight.

            “I’ll go find Ma” the boy told Kayla and disappeared with a smile, enabling her to look around the house.

            There were books and patch-quilts strewn every where. Some neatly stacked in the corner and some left wide open with pressed flowers as bookmarks. There were freshly baked goods on the counter, near the kitchen. And by the steam emitting from them, they were still fresh. Kayla wanted to pick up the chocolate bun that seemed to be calling out to her famished stomach, but she hesitated as she knew it to be bad manners to touch something in someone else’s house, without their permission.

            To get her mind away from the noises her stomach made, she walked around to find dainty pictures hung up on the walls. Nearing them, she could see that each one was oil painted into a faded canvas and carefully framed along the edges.

            One of them caught Kayla’s eye as she tipped on her toes to look up at the picture. In it was a small child, perhaps two years old, grinning at her. He was nestled in the arms of a lady with fiery red hair bunched in a ponytail and small tendrils of red curls snaking around her temples and the base of her neck. She had bright blue colored eyes, just like the child in her arm. The lady was standing close to another tall man, who possessed the same blonde hair as the child, and starling green eyes to match his strong face.

            All three of them were standing in front of the house she was in now, smiling a carefree smile to the person painting the picture. All three of them looked so happy, making Kayla wonder how come her parents never held her in their arms that way?

           

Despite all the things she saw, nothing was more alluring that the small fireplace burning a lazy hue of orange. The day’s exhaustion and weariness took its toll on her and as if in a trace, she found herself settling on the thick, fur rug that lay before it. Curled up and content, Kayla began to wonder if this is what a home is suppose to feel like. A place that makes you want to stay and not run away like she just did.

            The warmth of the air, the spell of a peaceful surrounding took Kayla somewhere far, as the reflection of the fire sparkled in her eyes. Soon, the sounds of crackling flames, happily dancing into the space of the chimney above, lulled the child to blissful sleep.   

           

           

            When Kayla awoke, she found herself exactly where she had fallen asleep. Making her grateful that the atmosphere she was in wasn’t a dream. She shifted the red quilt which had mysteriously appeared over her to discover her wounded arm professionally bandaged in a beige cloth.

            “Aha, she awakes” Kayla stood up and turned around to see a woman holding a plate. She had deep red hair just like the lady in the picture. The young woman walked to the small table and set the plate down before the boy.

            This must be his mother, Kayla concluded.

            “She saved my kite, Ma” the boy told his mother, settling his mug on the table and wiping his lips across the edge of his sleeve.

            “Did she now?” the mother lovingly smiled at Kayla and sat down next to her son. “What’s your name, love?” she beckoned Kayla to come closer.

            “Kayla” she whispered in reply.

            “How’s your arm? Does it still hurt?”

            Kayla looked down and slightly shook her arm more carefully this time. “No, it doesn’t” she replied. Mother smiled in return.

“What were you doing in the forest all alone?” she suddenly asked her. And as she said those words Kayla looked up at her face. She saw something in the lady’s blue eyes. Was it concern? She then looked at the boy, who had now inclined his head to hear what Kayla had to say. In their entire time together, the boy never knew what she was doing near the lake in the first place.

            Kayla pursed her lips. She did not want to tell them. She did not want to say a word, just incase they might tell her to go home...

            To go back home.

            No. Not home. It did not deserve to be called that.

            Mother noticed Kayla hesitate and decided to not push the small girl for answers. She gently pulled Kayla close to her and said, “‘tis not the matter” she smiled again, tucking a loose strand of Kayla’s hair behind her ear. “You don't have to tell”

            Kayla looked into the lady’s eyes once more. They were a more mesmerizing hue of blue than her son’s eyes. They also seemed to carry a sense of warmth, just like what the fire gave her but something much better. Traces of concern and abundant amounts of love seemed to sparkle in them. And they were for her, for someone who wasn't even her baby. How queer, and yet oddly comforting.

            How she wished her mother’s eyes would shine this way.

            “Ma,” the boy interrupted, scarfing down a chocolate bun Kayla was eyeing earlier. “We saw a dove’s nest today”

            Forgetting her earlier discomfort, Kayla nodded in excitement causing the mother to laugh.

            “You did?” she looked at her son and then at Kayla. Passing her a chocolate bun, she made Kayla sit down beside her, “What else did you see today?”

            Kayla was surprised at the question. This lady wanted to listen to me. She wasn’t busy, or upset or indulging in any sort of distraction like how her mother usually was. She wanted to hear what I had to say. The though of claiming an adults attention without having to do anything, made Kayla actually want to tell her.

            So she did.

            Mother clearly amused, rested her chin on her palm and watched this little girl describe everything she and the boy did on their way to the cabin. Things Kayla claimed to have never seen before.

            Her hands gestured the rapid flow of the water in the nearby creek, to the soaring height of sweet smelling pine trees. Her eyes widened with talks of birds, butterflies and the roses with the color of the sun.

Mother patiently listened, nodding and smiling in encouragement. Of course the things Kayla found so fascinating weren’t anything new to her, but the way Kayla explained it all seemed very enticing for someone her age.

            Mother liked this girl. She was beautiful, clever and seemed to be wise way beyond her years. But like always, mother knew, that with all the cheery tales the girl had to offer, this young ones had saddening ones to share are well.

           

            Time passed quickly and it was almost close to sundown as the stories the children had, never seemed to end. But nevertheless when they did, mother playfully touched Kayla’s nose and whispered, “Well my love, why don’t I show you one more thing to top you wonderful day?”

            The boy gasped in surprise “Ma, are we going to take her to-”

            “Shh...” Mother put a slender finger to her lips and winked mischievously at him.

            “Yes, we are.”

           

            In the next few moments, Kayla found her self walking with both her hands clasped between the boy and his mother, as they sauntered through the small path behind the cabin, leading to the fields.

            Kayla looked up at the crimson shades of light covering the sky above them. The sun was tauntingly close to the edge of the horizon, as they continued to make their way down a gentle sloping hill.

            Occasionally, she would steal glances at the boy’s mother from time to time, reflecting on the vivid comparison between this lady and her own mother. How she wished the differences would narrow down. But as sad as it may be, this lady and her own mother were no where near alike.

            Kayla sighed to herself.

           

           

Finally, they reached the foot of the clearing, rimmed with the trees they had just emerged from. The sky was now completely dark and the meadow looked beautiful under the silver curtain of the moon.

            Suddenly they stopped.

            “Why are we-” Kayla began to ask, but the boy’s mother quietly shushed her.

            “Listen,” she said quietly.

 Kayla continued to hold mother’s hand and closed her eyes. All she could hear was the wind, which made the grass and clusters of flowers dance around her. She took in a deep breath of the cold night’s air. She couldn’t hear anything.

Kayla shuffled closer to the mother’s side and a shiver ran down her back, despite the oversized coat she made Kayla wear.

            “Open you eyes, my love” she heard mother’s voice gently whisper in her ears.

            Kayla opened her eyes and expected to see the field under layers of pale moonlight. But what she saw, indeed took her breath away.

            There atop what might have been each and every single blade of grass was a small luminous firefly.

            Kayla took a step forward. Absentmindedly letting go of the mother’s hand and twirled around the field which was supposedly empty just a few moments ago.

            There were millions of them, flying everywhere. Some fireflies settled on the grass, near her feet, as some fearlessly rooted in the deep curls of Kayla’s hair, creating a halo of light around her. She giggled as one lightly touched her nose and flew away in fright. Kayla looked up in awe to see the fireflies were also compensating for the empty, starless sky. Radiating everything the little creatures touched, embellishing everything in sight.

            She turned to look at the boy who was catching some fireflies in his palms and letting them go. Then she saw his mother, who was just standing there in wonder. Mother caught her gaze and smiled. Kayla’s lips parted as if to say something to her, but what would she say? No amount of words could describe how that moment felt.

            The boy’s mother winked in response. Amused, she watched the little girl open her palms to the sky, trying to catch the flying drops of light. Kayla indeed had never seen such a thing before, she thought to herself.

           

 Finally, without the right words, Kayla fell to her knees. Still dazzled, as more fireflies gathered near her toes and hovered around her head.

            Mother went to her and quietly sat down next to her.

            “Do you like it?” she asked Kayla in a hushed tone, attributing to the current atmosphere of raining light. Kayla slowly nodded and before the boy’s mother could say a word, Kayla wrapped her arms around the lady waist. Surprised at the sudden show of emotion, mother gently hugged the child back.

            Automatically Kayla’s vision began to blur. Was she crying again?

            No... She mustn’t. Otherwise her mother wouldn’t be proud of her. Kayla should not cry anymore...

           

“Its okay, my love,” mother whispered quietly as she stroked Kayla’s hair. “Its okay to not be strong all the time” the boy’s mother reached down and planted a soft kiss on Kayla’s forehead.

            “It’s okay to cry” she breathed.

            And for the second time that day, Kayla cried in the arms of the only person she could. She hugged the boy’s mother tighter as carelessly her tears soaked the front of the lady’s dress.

            Kayla knew that she wasn’t crying for something sad, but for the first time in her life, Kayla’s tears were because she was so happy, and she could express it in any other way.

            Kayla also knew that in due time, she would have to go home, leaving the lady who showed her how much love a mother can posses, leaving the magical atmosphere of her cabin and the captivating adventures of the forest. Kayla would be forced to break away from all this and return to her world of shouting and contempt. But this moment, just this moment, Kayla let go of all her inhibitions.

            For just this moment Kayla tried to live it all through that one hug.

            So with a smile no one could see, Kayla let herself bask into mother’s reassuring arms beneath the luminescent shower, and into the comforting smell of oranges and cinnamon. 

 

Author's Note

This is the newer version of the story. Pretty much tried to cover all the errors. Would love to know what you think of it. =]
Thank you.

Reviews

[SR Urie]

Hello WriterMe,
Or should I say 'Grace' as this is one of the better works I've seen on this site for some time. The little girl is weary of crying, of falling short to living up to expectations of her parents and being a human child that cries on occasion. She finds herself in the woods, finds herself a handmade kite, and she finds herself the friendship of a young boy whom owns the kite. When he retrieves his property and starts to walk away her painful memories of her parents' arguements get the better of her and her humanity pours through in her tears, giving the boy the wrong impression, and unbelieveably he appologizes to her; something she isn't accustomed to. He ultimately takes her to his home where his mom can bandage her hurt arm, where she discovers a family home that is completely contrary to the one she has had all her life. The 'mother' that she meets is loving, unselfish and generous emotionally, and beautiful in every way that young Kayla is amazed at because she is unfortunately the daughter of who her real mother is. The story ends after the 'mother' and the boy take Kayla to a field, showing her the wonder of a swarm of fireflies, and Kayla is left with the dilemma of having to leave the wonderful 'mother' and go back to her own home, her own shelfish, unsupportive family. And another unfamiliar occurance happens to her; she weeps out of happiness of being in the wonderful 'mother's' arms instead of feeling the moral pains of listening to the anger of her own family. BRILLIANT!!!!
If I may, there are a couple of suggestions I would like to offer. First when Kayla cuts her arm on a rock you might want to clue me (the reader) in on what kind of rock it is; is it a boulder she's leaning on, an outcropping she trips on, a pepple that flies out of thin air to give you (the writer) a reason to get a bandage from the wonderful 'mother?'' Second, you may want to reread your text or have a second set of eyes go over it with a red pencil as there are a few type-o errors to fix. Third, look at your sentence structure as you've made some partial sentences where a mere comma would've sufficed. Plus you may want to look at your use of those commas; more commas don't necessarily make the text better and in some places it too many commas makes the text more difficult to read.
I am Very impressed with this story. Please don't change a thing (except some of the grammatical dilemmas) in it, it is very, very good; beautiful, well written, and excellent characters explanation and setting does not measure up to the writing. You have the gift, my dear. I intend to read more of your work.

BZ

[Sonife]

BEAUTIFUL. Although you made some error in some words, it's brilliant! I felt like flying while reading this. Your story reflects the emotions of a child, a child that felt abandoned and unloved. And I love the firefly part, it's like behind the sadness in her heart there always be a light to shine amidst the darkness.

I hope to read more of your works! :D

[Dearth-15]

'as if in a trance'
it says trace
instead of trance

[Justin D]

Absolutely stunning. The emotion that is built into such a small moment of relief from a life of pain is incredible. Through our journey we look upon everything in the world as either good or bad. Most people choose to look at the bad even if they are surrounded by a world of good. Just to be in such a world of serenity capable of making someone open up the way the little girl did.... it was incredible. This story was truthfully captivating and made me realize that the hardships of reality can be found in even such a young life..... I commend you on this work. It truthfully made me stop and think how hard things can be for those who don't deserve it at all. Keep up the good work. You are definitely placing in my contest for this amazing work.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Very nice work. Your descriptions were vivid.

[Raef C. Boylan]

Ok, I'm going to put grammar suggestions etc in either brackets or uppercase; if uppercase, it's not shouty, merely so you can distinguish it easier from the main text.

[already shown you suggestions for the first paragraph]

"Amidst all this, the breeze now carelessly ruffled dark brown locks of wavy hair, causing the seven year old to ruthlessly calm them down and throw them into a messy [?] behind her head."

['THE' seven year-old seems wrong, as this is our first introduction to her - maybe
"the breeze now carelessly ruffled the dark brown locks of a seven-year old's wavy hair, causing her to..." ?]

[seems like it should be 'a messy something?]

"This seven year old girl, continued to stare thoughtlessly into space as she sat on the edge of the lake, completely oblivious to the beauty around her. Her gray, misty eyes were dotted with tears waiting to be shed. Her toes were unconsciously caressing the black opal water beneath her, as one pale knee supported the weight of her face, covered with signs of a pensive nature."

[suggestion: tears waiting to be shed and her toes were...]

"As if on cue, her fingers entwined themselves with the lace sown on the corners of her white cotton dress. Her freckled nose wrinkled, her lips twitched and one by one, clear droplets of tears trickled down her cheeks. Her vision began to blur and soft sobs escaped her lips. So without a single human soul in sight, she decided to voice out the reason of her solemn outburst."

[lace sown = sewn]

"Mommy and Daddy always fight" she whispered, as her tears continued to fall on her dress, fading into wet patches on her lap. "Mommy and Daddy hate each other," she continued to say, "They shout at me...they hate me too..."

["Mommy and Daddy always fight[,]" she whispered]
[suggestion: "she continued to say" - drop 'to say']

"Now she propped up both her knees and slowly fell backwards creating a soft thud on the grass behind her. Her palms were facing the sky, now enveloped with dense clouds outlined in silver."

[no criticism here, very nice description]

"Kayla gasped as a thought crossed her mind. Mommy always used to say Kayla was strong and she never use to cry for more than a few seconds. Not for bruises, never for cuts or anything of that sort. If Kayla would stop crying and show Mommy how strong she still is, maybe Mommy would praise her. And Daddy too. They will be happy, and maybe they would stop arguing...."

["never use to cry for more than" - use = used]

["show Mommy how strong she still is" - is = was because there's a tense inconsistency. Alternatively, make it Kayla's own thought: s'how Mummy how strong I still am' etc.]

"Lost in her small assumptions, Kayla jumped as something blue[,] swiftly flew over her head. She sat up and blinked the remaining tears away and looked around. Her eyes found a sky blue kite that had landed on the ground near her. It was a pretty thing. Hand made. With slender branches tied tightly with white woolen strings and covered with blue paper. Kayla reached for it, but the wind stole it further away and now it was dangerously perched over the edge of a rock and close to the water."

[suggestion: lose the comma after blue]
["She sat up and blinked" - suggest replacing 'and' with a comma here]
["It was a pretty thing. Hand made. With slender branches"
suggest: It was a pretty thing; hand made, with slender branches]
[woolen = woollen]


I'll be back in a bit.

[Raef C. Boylan]

The language of that first paragraph is good, so perhaps it's the delivery that's bothering you?

Suggestion:
"The cold wind combed through the branches and rustled the leaves of the trees which stood by the lake, causing a few of them to softly plummet down to the surface on the crystal water below; some were carried away by it. Whistling along the blades of grass, the wind mixed them with dry velvet petals, creating a whirlwind in a magnificent array of colors."

- changed the second sentence so that it doesn't begin with 'The' as well
- changed the pace slightly through punctuation and sentence structure

Be back in a bit to read the actual story.

[Liverpoolfan]

Your description... has improved considerably!
This is very good. Yet, I still find that your trying to force your descriptions in quite a few places - The words should, quite literally, write themselves. To be honest, I found the story... good... yet I actually just wanted it to end! It didn't keep me gripped to the page. I should be able to empathsise with the girl, but I can't. Possibly more emotions are needed. More, emotive language and etc. I understand what you mean about something being missing. Unfortunately, I can't help you. I have no idea. And, besides, I think that's for the writer to discover themselves. Also, as a writer, it's hard to be truely satisified with ANY piece of writing that you write. At least, that's what I find. I look at someone else's work... and I think "wow".
Last thing, fix your grammer! Mines rubbish as well...but you should at least get the basics right.
When a person speaks... quotation marks are used (you know this already). But there should also be a comma. E.g.

"It's okay to cry," she breathed.

Hope this helps. Also, it's wonderful reading some of your writing again, I must say. Especially after such a long while. I've actually just realised how much I've missed it. Keep up the great work.

[Ingrid]

I am decades older than you, but your knew me and told my story. Just lovely.

[Marie Anzalone]

I know your little girl. I know her like I know my own heart. How many of us, I wonder, went through our childhoods as the stoics who held it together because Mommy and Daddy could not? Never felt we were entitled to have someone listen to us? How many of us still cry in joy when someone shows us a simple act of human kindness- such as calling to ask, "How are you feeling today?" and actually *listening* to the answer?

I feel like you gave your little girl a place where she felt warm and loved... like you wove a place of love and protection and gave her a friend where she had none. I did the exact thing in one of my stories, "Salix babylonica". I bet you never walk through the woods without a sense of wonder when you hear the song of a wood thrush, or examine an oriole nest in the orchard. I bet you have a cinnamon scented candle you burn when company comes over. I bet you visit that field of fireflies when you need guidance in your life... don't you?

This was a very powerful and life-affirming piece. The only suggestion I would make would be to check your grammar and tenses... there were a few errors.

[Nautili]

truly delightful.Wonderful work.