Trust
The City
Mommy
Sarah carefully aligned her new masterpiece on the refrigerator door, snapping the fruit-shaped magnet on top to hold it in place. Stepping back, she eyed her work carefully. It was the first picture she had colored of her family. Around it, dozens of pictures of cats, dogs, rainbows, and anything a six year old might draw, littered the metallic surface of the fridge. The new composition, depicting a young girl and her parents, fit in well.
Heavy footsteps fell behind her. Sarah looked around and smiled up at her dad. He wore a crisp, clean suit without a speck of dust in sight.
"A new one? pretty soon you'll color us out of the house," he said. Sarah laughed.
"But- Sarah - Who is this?" He leaned forward and tapped a large figure in a pink trangle dress on the right of the small girl.
"That's mommy," answered Sarah.
"You don't have a mommy. You never did."
"Yes I do!" Sarah countered. her lower lip stuck out as it always did when she was stubborn. "All my friends at school have a mommy, and they said everyone does." Her father took a deep breath.
"You're not like everyone at school. Most people have mommies, but you don't. It's nothing to be ashamed of." Slowly, he tore off the right side of the picture, taking care only to remove the woman.
"But I do!" Sarah insisted. "I remember her! She used to tell me stories, before you took her away."
"You remember that?"
"Yes."
Sarah's father considered her carefully. Sarah stared back. She had won.
"Alright," her father said finally. "How would you like to see your mommy?" Sarah's face brightened.
"Yes!"
" Would you like to see her right now?"
"Yes!" Sarah jumped up eagerly. Her father reached into his coat.
_______
He wiped the serrated blade, staining the clean, crisp handkerchief scarlett. Carefully, he cut the drawing of the small child from the picture.
