Elizabeth Melton Parsons

This is a re-post of a story from a few years ago. I’m sure many of you have never seen it and with Father’s Day tomorrow I’m posting it in memory of my dad.

morning glories

A Father’s Gift

Straightening, I stretched my back and wiped the sweat from my brow. The seemingly endless rows of corn offered shade, but blocked any breeze that might offer relief from the sweltering mid summer heat. I longed for the shaded coolness of the creek bank—could almost feel the cold rush of water flowing over my feet, as I delved into the fantasy world of the book I’d began reading the night before. The image lasted no more than a moment before reality reasserted itself.

Grumbling, I once again bent to the task of removing the morning glory vines from the fully mature stalks. As I contemplated the insanity of the chore, anger moved over…

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