Pleasant Trees

In 1937, a baby girl was brought into the world.

She was born with a tuft of curly, light brown hair on the top of her small head. Her delicate fingers were curled together into a fist. She was silent as she lay in the woman's arms with her head burrowed in the crook of her arm and her eyes shut. There was heavy breathing in the room and sound of boots shuffling around in the neighboring room was echoing through the small house. A shadow was cast upon the curtain that separated the area from the rest of the house. Eyes anxiously shifted to the baby, to the woman, to the person outside. Whispering ensued as the eyes stared down and tongues shot out to moisten dry and cracked pink lips. The heavy breathing turned shallow and shaky.

"What's wrong with her?" a woman cried.

The other woman in the room opened her mouth to speak but her lip quivered instead as her eyes watered. She pursed her lips and blinked the tears away before looking at the woman with a hard stare. The woman realized at once what the other was silently telling her. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of yet another baby lost. She clenched her eyes shut as she fell back on to the pillows of her flimsy bed, her tears falling down her face and into her long and damp brown hair. She let out a shaky sigh that hid a sob as she listened the man outside the curtain pace back and forth.

"What's going on?" he asked nervously in his gruff voice.

The woman standing looked towards the thin curtain and was about to speak when the softest and briefest of touches caught her attention. She blinked and slowly looked down at the miniature form in her arms. The small child yawned violently as she shifted in the woman's arm. The woman let out a surprised gasp as she stared down at the baby. She stared up at the woman on the bed with a wide smile and tears in her eyes. The tiny baby let out a small coo as her tiny arm shot out of her flimsy blanket. The woman on the bed immediately opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a small moment before shooting up to sit upright on her bed. She stared at the other woman with wide eyes before glancing down at the child in the blanket.

"Alive?" she whispered ever so quietly.

"Alive, baby. She's alive," the woman grinned.

"My baby is alive. She's alive," she cried joyously.

"Alive?" the man asked loudly as he threw the curtain back and stomped into the room.

"Your baby is alive," the woman smiled as she handed the baby to the woman on the bed.

"You did it, Sarah. You did it," the man whispered into the woman's hair as he sat by her on the bed.

Sarah stared down at the child in her arms in shock as her husband pushed her damp hair back and wiped away the tear stains on her face. She looked at her child with relief and joy. She grinned at the baby as her tears of happiness fell down on the baby's blanket. A tear fell on the child's face, making the baby squirm and raising a small fist to wipe the sensation away. And ever so slowly, the baby opened her eyes and stared up at the three people who were staring down at her.

"Look at her, Nora. She has your eyes," the man told the older woman.

"And she still looks like her daddy," Nora smiled at him.

"You're a granny now, Mama," Sarah whispered up at her mother.

"Are you two going to pick a name for my granddaughter or what?" Nora asked.

"I say we call her Roberta," the man said.

"Robert Henry Jones, you are not naming the poor child that," Nora said with her hands on her hips.

"My kid," Robert exclaimed.

"My grandchild," Nora shot back.

"Margaret," Sarah whispered.

Robert and Nora tore their gazes away from each other to look down at Sarah in surprise, as if they just remembered she was just in there.

"What was that, dear?" Robert asked his wife.

Sarah rubbed the small tuft of light brown hair that was on top of her child's head. She smiled softly down at her baby as the child reached out to place two small fingers on her mother's index finger. Sarah stroked the child's nose up and down, causing the baby to coo with happiness. Sarah held her child close to her chest, closing her eyes and slowly inhaling to take in her baby's smell. She opened her eyes so that her blue eyes stared straight into the baby's dark brown eyes.

"Her name is Margaret Marie," Sarah said to the silent room.

"It has a nice ring to it," Nora nodded as she took in the name. Sarah smiled down at her child before kissing the top of her head.

"She's so beautiful, Mama," Sarah whispered.

"Of course she is. You're her mama," Robert spoke up. Nora smiled down at the family before walking out of the room.

"I'm Mama now, Rob," Sarah said softly.

"Just like I'm Daddy now."

"I never thought one would survive. Maggie is our little survivor" Sarah said.

"She's our little miracle. Both of you are - my miracles. I don't know what I would do if anybody tried to take the two of you away from me."

"Nobody is taking us anywhere," Sarah said as she smiled up at her husband.

Robert grinned down at her before leaning down to kiss his darling wife on the lips. He lingered there for a moment before smiling against Sarah's lips. They both looked down at the same time to stare at Margaret, who was gazing up at her adoring parents with a slight twinkle in her eye.

"My baby is going to be a heart breaker," Robert smiled.

"Got your shotgun ready?" Sarah joked. He smiled at her before kneeling down to stare at the baby closely.

Robert placed a large hand on the top of Margaret's head before cupping her head on his hand. Sarah simultaneously stroked Margaret's pale and round face with a delicate finger. The two parents smiled affectionately down at their daughter, their survivor. Never in their lives had they ever believed one of their own would live. But there she was. She was alive. She was beautiful. She was their darling, baby girl. The Sunday sun shone in from the bedroom window and highlighted upon their new daughter. Sarah looked at her husband expectantly as he stared at their child.

"Love of mine, you will always remain the most important thing to me."

And Margaret smiled up at her daddy.