A Mother's Night Gift - S.J. Sanders Page 0,2

coat pocket, reassuring herself that her allotment of coins, a wrapped loaf of sweet bread, and honey candies were still tucked securely within it. She didn’t normally get many sweets in her rations, but with the upcoming Mother’s Night on the solstice, she’d been given delicacies to enjoy with her family. Unfortunately, Ava would be by sooner or later, hopefully giving Betani enough time to separate a portion of her package—a generous handful of candies, and the loaf of sweet bread—and hide it away. Out of the main portion, she knew that she would have to sacrifice some. The small cakes, a fifth of the coins, and most of the candy would go to Ava.

As much as she hated those small pleasures being taken from her children, Betani couldn’t find it within herself to be bitter about it. This would be the first year that her children would be able to enjoy the holiday merriment since they were babes. At seven, they were small compared to many other children their age, thin from years of near starvation. It broke her heart to see them that bad off. She was determined to make it a good Mother’s Night for them.

She thrilled a little in anticipation of the upcoming days, pushing all thoughts of Ava away. The wagon would be making rounds in the evening to deliver regular food goods, as well as special provisions for the holiday. They were even promised a roast goose that would be delivered on the solstice itself. For once, they would have a wonderful meal and her children’s tummies would be full. Not only that, but they would receive their first gifts. In her package, she carried home a pair of toys she had carefully selected from those that had been available. A small doll for Alis, and a painted horse for Nik.

It would be the best Mother’s Night for her family.

With a smile, she slid by a street musician playing a cheerful, ancient winter melody, practically dancing as she dropped a copper coin into his hat. He smiled and nodded his thanks as he continued to work the strings of his instrument, making them sing joyfully as she turned around the corner and dashed toward her building with a spring in her step.

The building was long gray structure lined with doors, each with a metal handrail and tiny porch leading to a narrow, two-story apartment. Many of the doors were decorated with simple green wreathes adorned with ribbon. Those who could not afford a wreath were left bare. Although Betani couldn’t afford a wreath, she had made up for the fact by gathering broken pine branches with her children which they had brought home and bound together with red ribbon. Even from the distance, she could see her door plainly with its simple decor. Even though it wasn’t much (not unlike their apartment itself) it made her smile every time she saw it because it was home.

She gave it a fond glance, but turned to walk up a set of steps leading to a door adorned with a tiny effigy of the Mother. The simple straw doll stirred slightly with the vibration as she knocked and waited for Cyntia, her elderly neighbor’s granddaughter, to open the door. Due to the neighbor’s advanced age and her granddaughter’s sickly state, Betani carried a note of permission to collect their rations for them. As they lived just a couple doors down from each other, it was only natural that they leaned on each other when they needed. This would be her last delivery, however, since the women were moving after the new year to live with relatives. She was going to miss them.

Within minutes, a very thin woman with large, dark eyes and a shy smile opened the door to admit her. Betani exchanged a quiet greeting as she stepped inside and followed Cyntia back to the kitchen where she dropped off their bundle on the worn countertop. Her task complete, she took some time to visit with the younger woman, who was always eager to hear recent gossip from the market, before departing for her own home

At Cyntia’s soft-spoken farewell, Betani descended the steps and walked further down the side of the building until she came to her own door and opened it with a loud greeting. Laughter escaped her as her children leapt up from whatever activity they had been engaged in and two pairs of thin arms flung around her. Leaning down, she kissed their