Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Comfort and Ray (youngsters:fairy tales, 1500 words)
Author: Maureen StirsmanAdded: May 09 2004Views/Reads: 5056/2874Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A Fable, When things seem so hard you think you cannot go on, remember you only have to go one step at a time. Let someone help you and you will make it.
 



Comfort and Ray A FABLE 

Once upon a time there was a man who lived in a nice house in a nice
town with a fairly nice family. He lived his life with the ordinary ups 
and downs that are common to man, going blithely along his way. But now 
his children were grown and his wife was gone 

One day it began to rain, a light rain at first, the kind you say, ‘the
grass needs it.' But it didn't stop raining and it rained harder and 
harder. The thunder was so loud the house shook and the lightening lit 
the sky like a million light bulbs. Then came the announcement over the 
radio, “Evacuate! All residents evacuate!” The man did not want to 
leave the house, but he began to pack his toothbrush, razor, two suits 
of underwear and waited. Then the rain down came in earnest. 

Soon the street in front of his house was flooded. Still he hesitated.
His son called, “Dad, there are evacuation orders. You better get out 
now.” 

“But, son, I like it here. It's a cozy house. Besides maybe the car
won't start.” Then the floodwaters came up to his front step. Still he 
didn't leave but he did watch until the water came into the kitchen. 
Then he got his keys and waded to the car. He was right, his car 
wouldn't start, so he went back into the house and climbed to the 
second floor. By the time the waters got upstairs he could no longer 
use the telephone. Then he made a hole in the roof and wrapped his pack 
of necessities in plastic, which he tied around his waist. He put on 
his bathing suit and pulled himself up through the roof. 

The waters covered everything but the rooftops and there was no one else
in sight. He stood on the top of his house in the very nice 
neighborhood and watched the water come up to his ankles. Then out of 
nowhere he saw a white dove, and strangely enough, for he had never 
heard of such a thing, the dove spoke to him. “Swim, Ray!” 

“Swim, are you crazy? I am not a good swimmer. I don't even like the
water very much.” 

“Swim!” 

“But how far do I have to swim, dove? I don't see anyplace to swim to.
You can fly. I can barely swim.” 

“Swim, I said. I will tell you how far. Can you swim to the corner of
this street?” the dove asked. 

“Maybe. I can try.” 

“That's all I ask. Try. I will fly next to you all the way.” 

Then Ray took a deep breath and dived into the water and began to swim
following the unusual white bird. The end of the block was not that far 
away. He could probably do that. The bird flew ahead and Ray put his 
face into the water, one arm after the other stroking the floodwaters 
and before he knew it he was swimming. He could surely make it to the 
end of the block, following the dove. But then what? “Don't think about 
that,” said the dove. “Just trust me!” 

Ray was frightened in the water. It was cold at first, and dark. He
couldn't see the tops of the chimneys or very many trees. “Wait, dove, 
what if I get caught in a tree top?” he asked. 

“Don't worry, Ray, I can see where the trees are and the rooftops, too.
I won't let you get caught on them. All you have to do is keep your 
eyes on me.” Then Ray did just that. He stopped looking at the water 
and the darkness of the approaching night. He followed the dove. 
Suddenly, before he knew it he was at the corner of his street. Which 
direction should he go? Ahead he could see the white wings flying 
through the growing darkness and he took more strokes in the water, 
swimming faster to keep up. It what might have been twenty minutes or 
three hours, Ray couldn't be sure how long, but he felt very tired. The 
dove flew back toward him and said, “Come on, Ray, you can do it.” 

“I can't. I'm just too exhausted. I can't even think about it any more,”
he said, with a weary wave of his arm. 


Click here to read the rest of this story (82 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Maureen Stirsman has 21 active stories on this site.
Profile for Maureen Stirsman, incl. all stories
Email: tstirs@highstream.net

stories in "fairy tales"   |   all stories by "Maureen Stirsman"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy