The Woman Who Tended the Sidewalk

V.

It was a long month. Every day, through the rest of May all the way to the beginning of July, I would walk to Mrs. Puckett's yard and get her tools ready, and tend to the sidewalk. The rest of the neighborhood slowly began watching me toil every day for hours on end, keeping the sidewalk watered and keeping the plants nice. The little plants grew from what was once caked dirt, waste dirt that fell between the cracks, and got taller and taller as the days rolled by.

It wasn't until the second day of June that I saw the first small flower poke its head up through the leaves. It was happy, and full of a light and joyful purple hue. A hue like that was a result I could only call inspiring. I tended to the sidewalk with even more care and even more gentleness as they all quickly grew their blooms and became gorgeous flowering plants. The neighborhood was in awe at what the little child, little old me, managed to grow in the cracks on the sidewalk, but every time they tried to congratulate me, I told them, "No, no, you have it wrong. These flowers weren't grown by me. They were grown with patience, and they were grown by Mrs. Puckett."