Summary
When I was little, Mrs. Malina lived next door to us in a little, yellow cottage-style house. There was a row of prickly bushes that ran on the property line between our houses, but that didn't keep my sister and me from venturing over to her back yard. We simply dug a trench and created a hole in the bush-fence, and shimmied on through whenever we wanted to.
Mrs. Malina was a widow with gray hair and a perfect flower bed. We used to sneak over and pick her flowers to give to our mom back home. We were so proud of ourselves, until, that is, our mom figured out where the daffodils came from. Then we heard about it all right.See the full content of this document
Extract
Time Out the People You Know
Mom always made us go back over and apologize. Mrs. Malina always forgave us, and invited us in. I think she was kind of lonely ...
See the full content of this document
Sponsored links
