Thank You, Mama!

I dedicate this story to my friends who are overcoming huge challenges and tremendous grief and fear. -E.H.

THANK YOU, MAMA!
A Story About A Little Girl’s Grief and Her Victory Over Fear
By Elisabeth Hurley

Georgia had been spending almost all of her free time at her mother’s grave. She talked to her constantly, sometimes angrily. “Mama, why did you leave me? Why couldn’t we stay together here in our little village? Why do I have to go away and live with people I don’t know. Mama, tell me! Why, oh why?”
There had been no answer from her mother who had died six weeks ago, just two days after Georgia’s eleventh birthday. Anna Schreck, an immigrant from Germany and her mother’s best friend, would invite her for dinner every night. If only “Mrs. Anna” knew how she hated to eat, or, for that matter, do anything at all.

It was Mrs. Anna who had broken the news to Georgia  that her Uncle Nik and Aunt Mary wanted her to live with them in New York.

“No, No, No! I don’t want to leave.”

“Georgia, your uncle and aunt love you. They want to take care of you.”

“How can you say that? They hardly know me. And my cousin Rita hates me already. She doesn’t like the way I speak or dress; they do things differently in New York.  No – I won’t go!”

Frau Anna had tried to calm her down, tried to reassure her. It didn’t help. Georgia felt colder and lonelier than ever.

This morning, in her room, she took out the suitcase her mother had given her for their first vacation trip together last year. Memories overwhelmed her. She cried as if the heavens would break. Her sobs could have softened the giant rock down at the riverbank.

When Georgia felt she was going to die from isolation and fear, she remembered to pray: “Dear God, please help me. I don’t know what to do. I am so scared.”

Praying silently for a while longer, her head on the pillow, Georgia could almost hear her mother’s soft whisper of, “I love you.”

She jumped when the bell rang. The cheerful voice outside tore at her heart. “Your train ticket to New York, Georgia!”

Georgia froze. She dropped the large envelope that had been pushed toward her. The tiny kerchief of calmness from a few moments ago had fallen off her. She shivered. Her mouth felt the burn of a thousand icicles.

The mailman never got an answer. Georgia’s unconscious thought was of a miracle. Then darkness took her in its arms and pushed her down the stairs and through the open door.

Georgia realized she was lost. She didn’t know where she was. She was frightened. She was sitting on the edge of a glittering black lake, telling a wrinkly old woman how terribly frightened she was. She pleaded for help.

“I cannot help you, Georgia. This is a road you must walk alone. Just get up and stay on this forest path. If you do so, you will arrive in safety where you belong.”

Georgia cried and begged again.

“You must go, Georgia,” her friend insisted. “There is no other way.”

Finally, Georgia started to walk. When she looked behind her, the woman was gone. Instead, there was the chattering of creatures she couldn’t understand. Wolves were howling. A giant with tree-like arms grabbed her and pulled her toward him. Goblins and witches danced around a bonfire, singing a terrifying song: “We’ll get you, you cannot escape us. Ha, ha, ha!”

For a moment, Georgia couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Then fear made her run. It didn’t do any good. Big creepers were climbing up her body and hugging her in spider-web fashion. A big, ugly bird beat its wings against her face. Little nasty root children screamed at her, “Coward! Coward! You will never make it!”

Georgia, clammy with cold sweat and stiff with fear, tried to get away from them. Their Rumpelstiltskin-like voices followed her all the way to a huge, dark cave. The forest path led right into it.

Completely exhausted, Georgia fell down. “I can’t go on. I just can’t go on. If only I could die.”
She looked behind her, still hoping to go back to the old woman. She was aching to speak to the only friend she had encountered in this nasty world.

The path had now totally closed behind her. Georgia realized that there was no way back. She would have to go on or be lost forever. For a moment, she thought of her mother. Ignoring the still-piercing cries of the root children, she then took a big step into the cave. A low chuckle followed her into it. “I always knew you would make it.”

Later, when Georgia awoke in the dandelion-strewn meadow in front of her house, the sun was high in the sky. A small smile was around her eyes. She bent down, picked one of the early spring flowers and held it against her chest.

Slowly she walked toward her house. Even more slowly, she climbed the stairs to her room. The train ticket was still where she had dropped it earlier. She picked it up and, together with the single flower from the meadow, put it on top of her suitcase. Then she looked out the window toward her mother’s grave.

“Thank you, Mama. I’ll tell you all about New York in a few days.”

Elisabeth Hurley
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