Keke’s Kindness: A Children’s Story

In a city nestled in a suburb, and catacorner to a valley below a mountain, lived a little girl named Keke, with her mother, father, brother, dog and her grandmother, Ma Kindness.

Keke was a wild, dazzling thing of a girl.  Her Ma Kindness called her Sapphire. It was because sapphires were precious and pretty, just like her Keke. Keke loved many things, but there was one thing she loved the most- her Ma Kindness’s honey biscuits.

Ma Kindness made her honey biscuits on rainy days, and snowy days. On hot days, and cold days. On special days, and regular days. If there was a thunderstorm, there were honey biscuits. When Keke made honor roll, there were honey biscuits. On Thanksgiving, next to the pies, there were honey biscuits.

Honey biscuits fixed all of your problems. Honey biscuits helped you have fun when you were bored. One hot, sweltering day, Keke came home from school feeling defeated.  She zoomed pass her mother. She rushed pass her father. She flew pass her brother. She zipped pass the dog and sprinted pass Ma Kindness.

The poor dog didn’t know from which way the wind came, she went so fast. Keke went up the stairs, down the hall, and into her room. Mom looked at dad, dad looked at brother, brother looked at dog. And believe it or not, dog looked at Ma Kindness. Everyone knew Ma Kindness knew what to do. So, she got to it.

Clouds of flour and swirls of butter got married. Baking powder became friends with salt and milk. And once they all became one happy family, into the oven they went. When the fluffy pillows of goodness exited the oven, Ma Kindness graced the tops of them with hot butter and honey. She never spoke to anyone when she did this.

She placed three, warm, honey biscuits on an orange, square dish. Ma Kindness marched pass Keke’s mother. She trolled pass Keke’s father. She moseyed pass Keke’s brother, and sauntered pass the dog. She went up the stairs, down the hall and knocked on Keke’s door. Then she sang. “Sapphire, Sapphire let me in.” Click, clack, screech went the door as Keke opened it.

“What’s wrong baby? Grab a biscuit.” Whenever Ma Kindness asked a question, you answered it. Whenever Ma Kindness told you to grab a biscuit, you not only grabbed it, you ate it, too. In between chews and tears, Keke admitted to losing her lucky pen. “The one with the sparkly purple water inside,” she said.

 Ma Kindness understood how losing something you loved can be painful. She also understood that some things can or can’t be replaced. “Sapphire, you can get another beautiful pen anytime, but always remember the luck comes from the goodness in your heart and the love you give out to the world.”

Keke didn’t understand what these words meant now. But she would later.  “Split the last honey biscuit with me Ma Kindness?” “Absolutely baby, absolutely,” Ma Kindness proudly proclaimed. And that’s what they did. There wasn’t a crumb or a drop of honey in sight.