A Bouquet of Pinks

Prompt: brush the summer by

They had a festival for each season. In winter, they celebrated the birth of the Savior. In spring, they celebrated his resurrection. In the autumn, they celebrated the bountiful world that God had given them.

Each of those festivals meant that the young people were given gifts of some sort. In the winter, they got toys to play with. In the spring, they got sweets to enjoy. In the autumn, they got pretty, new clothing.

The summer festival was different. It was more solemn. They remembered the loved ones who’d died. They laid flowers on their graves and said prayers. It wasn’t a fun holiday. It was a sad one. Morgan didn’t like the summer festival. She wished it would come and go quickly each year.

“Morgan,” a soft voice said.

She glanced over her shoulder at her older brother. Sighing, she gathered the flowers that she’d tied together with ribbon. “Let’s go then,” she said, hurrying past him. “We want to get there and back before it gets dark.”

Aidan nodded. “Pinks,” he said, falling into step beside her. “They were Mom’s favorites.”

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