The self-made treat for a lonely child

By LUELLA DOW

Contributor

“Luella, get that cat out of the house. I told you three times!” That was Mrs. Borgrim, my mother’s friend making my ears ring. She was keeping our home organized while my parents were at a meeting in another town. I sighed. There were two more days until Mrs. Borgrim could leave. She told all the neighbors she was “managing” the place. I guessed my name was on the list she had to manage. When she thought I couldn’t hear she told everybody, “That Mrs. Dow’s 6-year-old daughter is a real challenge.”

Before my parents left, I had complained to my mother that Mrs. Borgrim talked too loud. In fact, sometimes she screamed. Mother calmly said, “Mrs. Borgrim has a hearing problem. She can’t hear herself talking.” I ran into my room and made a crazy face in the mirror. I had a different idea about Mrs. Borgrim and her hearing problems.

The next day I tried to be good. Another woman came to talk to Mrs. Borgrim. The two of them sat on the lounge in the shade behind our house. They both started at once to talk about my mother. Since I was hiding behind a tree, I listened in. They hadn’t paid any attention to me. I heard Mrs. Borgrim say, very loud, of course, “She spoils that child something awful.”

I popped up behind the tree to hear every word. Mrs. Borgrim saw me and dashed over to grab me by the collar. “Young lady, you are to get into your room and stay there until I tell you otherwise.” She gave me a shove. I broke away from her, taking a shredded piece of my collar with me. “But, Mrs. Borgrim, I want to know. What’s my Mom doing? What’s” — Mrs. Borgrim gave me another shove. “A child like you has no business listening to what others are saying.”

Again, I tried to explain. Mrs. Borgrim’s final shove landed me inside the house, up the stairs and into my room with a lock on the door. I waited until I could calm down. That’s how my mother taught me. Then I reached for the hidden key, opened the door and stood in the kitchen holding a nice bowl of ice cream in my hand.

The kitten I had neglected earlier followed me to my room. She purred and sat cozily beside me while I enjoyed my self-made treat. I reached into my pocket and gave the kitten what I had saved for her. Then, I cried. Tears ran down my cheeks while I sobbed, “Mom, I miss you.”

Friday, the last day with Mrs. Borgrim, I sighed with relief while I took the empty ice cream bowl to the kitchen. My kitten followed me all the way. As I rinsed the bowl and reached to put it in the cupboard a roar came from behind me. “So you’re the culprit! You’re the one stealing the food. Just wait until I tell your mother, you little thief.”

I whirled around and faced Mrs. Borgrim. I was shaking all over, but I held my place. “I wasn’t stealing. My mom always leaves ice cream in the fridge for me when she’s away.”

Mrs. Borgrim’s voice rose again, “You expect me to believe that?”

Suddenly, another voice cut through her rumbling. My dad stood inside the door.

“Mrs. Borgrim, thank you for your work while we were away. I have your car ready for you.” My dad turned toward me. I saw the sparkle in his eyes. He held his arm out for me. “Come on, Luella, mom’s waiting for us.”

Luella Dow is a Cheney-area author. She can be reached by contacting the Cheney Free Press at [email protected].