My Little Darling

*Author’s note: This blog post was inspired by the discussion that we had on childhood innocence after reading the poem in class.*

We sat looking out of the window, her and I. Wonder illuminated her face as we watched the sun die. She turned and held my face gently in her little hands.

“Mummy,” she said, “why does the sky turn red when the sun sets?”

I took her soft hands in mine. The sunset cast a hazy gold halo around the room and I watched her face glow in the ebbing light; her blue eyes shining bright enough to dazzle stars; her perfectly formed lips all plump and rosy; the delicacy with which she spoke, as if every word was a gift under the tree at Christmas time. A love for this little girl, my daughter, swelled in my chest. A pride. A longing for her, even though she was sitting right next to me.

“Because the sun is bleeding, sweet heart.”

A look of confusion settled itself on her angelic little face. Her brow creased and I could see her trying to put the pieces together in her head. This confusion quickly faded into concern.

“Well, is he hurt?”

I couldn’t help but smile even wider at this.

“No, baby. He isn’t hurt at all–he bleeds for the moon. You see, the sun and the moon are in love with each other, but they can never be together; a long time ago, long before you were born, the moon was queen of the sky. It was her kingdom, and all of the stars where her subjects. The stars loved the moon, but so did the sun. He was always there, watching her from afar. He loved her more than he loved himself, loved her so much that every night when it was time for him to set, he would put on a show of lights and colours for her so that when she rose, the first thing she would see would be something beautiful. He bleeds crimson, and lilac and gold–every colour you could think of.”

Her eyes widened at this, and a beautiful smile enchanted her face. She leaned closer to me, as if she was going to tell me a secret.

“Every colour?” She whispered.

“Every colour,” I whispered back.

She grinned more widely at this. To her, every word that left my mouth was magic. Not the kind of magic where a rabbit is pulled out of a hat–the kind of magic that can only be seen and felt by those who truly believe in it. She leaned closer still, looking from side to side before she spoke again.

“Even pink?” Her voice was filled with a shy kind of hope, like she was afraid to even wish for it incase it was too good to be true.

“Even pink,” I told her.

She turned to look out of the window once more. Sure enough, and to her great excitement, the sky was blushing a gentle shade of magenta as the sun set further still. I watched her watching the play of lights and colours unfold before her. I have never felt a love greater than the one I felt then. A love that caused my breath to catch in my lungs, my heart aching from the warm happiness that lived in it.

“That’s amazing,” she breathed.

I pulled her into me then. A strange nostalgia floated about the room and settled like ashes in my hair. I wanted her to stay that way forever–filled with wonder and hope. But I knew that eventually she would lose the magic. I breathed in the smell of her hair, and stroked the back of her dimpled hand. She leaned into me heavily, her head resting on my shoulder, and I could feel her playing with the sleeve of my shirt absently. I placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, my little darling. Yes it is.”

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3 thoughts on “My Little Darling

  1. Dear Hope,

    Wow. You honestly encompassed your whole thought process towards innocence and childhood flawlessly. I loved the way you conveyed the obvious dependency of the girl on the mom and vice-versa. Your piece touched my heart and made me miss the days I was beautiful in my innocence.

    There is nothing I can find to suggest for improvement; your balance of syntax, diction, and ethos was exceptional. You really made the characters seem relatable, and I admire the way you built in a little fable into your story to enhance that effect. I felt as if the little girl and the mother were sitting right here beside me, and I was able to experience one of the most significant moments in their lives.

    I am grateful to you for that.


  2. Dearest Hope,

    That was a beautiful piece. It moved me. Truly, it did. My heart still seems to be recovering from its crying fit.

    You have such a strong yet elegant voice in your writing. It is as fierce as fire, with a muted beauty. The beauty of snow as it glistens under a silver-gray sky.

    What I loved about your piece the most, however, was the fear. The hidden fear that seems to be lurking behind the words of the mother. You created this innocence through the child, and the story of the moon and the sun, while simultaneously supporting the fear of losing that innocence through the mother’s character. I loved the interplay between innocence and fear within your piece. Its beauty is beyond words.

    Offering improvement seems to be the most difficult task of all for all of the blogs on this sight, and so, all I have to offer are some diction choices. For instance, in your blog you stated, “and a beautiful smile enchanted her face,” and I feel as though the word “enchanted” seems out of place. Perhaps utilizing the term “transformed” instead would create a better flow.

    I loved, loved, loved this piece, and I am sincerely grateful to you for posting it.

    Yours truly,

  3. Dear Hope,

    You gave forth a flawless representation of childhood innocence and of the fables that are spun around us. Your diction is incredibly eloquent, and after reading this the first time I went back and read it over several more times because I wasn’t ready to let go of the hold your words had over me.
    I found that for me, at least, this piece was incredibly moving because I can relate to it. I always used to ask my mother things such as, why is the sky blue, or why do leaves turn yellow in the fall? But unlike your character of the mother, my mum would give me scientific, logical answers that did nothing but stifle my imagination. I used to long for these sweet, timeless explanations of how the world worked, and because I didn’t get them from my family, I made them up myself. Because of this, it made quite an emotional for me- to read your fable and to experience the depth and love of this mother-daughter relationship.
    That is another thing I want to draw attention to- love. We had a powerful conversation on the value of and concept of unconditional love, and then had an even more insightful discussion regarding love in English class. I have to say, I am not sure if I believe in unconditional love. But I have been swayed by your writing. The love between the mother and daughter, solidified by the mother’s desire to preserve her daughter’s innocence, truly stuck me. And I found that I could understand unconditional love after reading what you wrote and having had that conversation with you about love. It is such an incredibly strong portrayal of love, and I could feel it causing my heart to pound faster, my soul to flutter in my chest.
    The interplay of innocence and desire from the mother to preserve that innocence was absolutely amazing. This is a very in-depth piece with hundreds of layers that I still am trying to sort through. I have tried to write this comment several times but I had found I had no words to describe how beautiful yet simple this piece is. Now that I am finally writing this comment, I hope that you can see through my eyes how inspirational of a read this was for me.
    As well, I found that you used pathos and ethos to such a degree that it was truly transformational for me in my beliefs about love, and you also snuck in the right amount of logos, too.
    I was having trouble finding things for you to improve upon, but as a nitpicky item for you, I think that you may have needed to build up to your climax a bit more. I understand if that was a stylistic choice, but I think that it could be a good way to engage your readers more.
    All in all, the flow, diction, syntax, tone, imagery, mood and your altogether style was incredible! Thank you. 
    Infinite Love and Gratitude,

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