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Description
God Loves You. That was all it said. No name, date of birth, or death. Just God Loves You. It was set on the west side of the cemetery, under an old birch tree. The tree was still alive, but barely. Maybe that was she was buried there. Every year one less leaf sprouts, until one day it will die. Most of the time the grave marker was bare, but once a year when all the trees were burning up in flames, a single bright red rose lay. They say she was found in fall, when all but one leaf remained green.
***
In the middle of a forest a small, old Victorian house was occupied by a couple, Lisa and Tom. Tom loved to hunt, which was the main reason they lived there. The only two things Lisa liked about the place were the crimson, gold, and orange leaves delicately drifting down in the fall. Lisa loved the fall. The crunch of leaves under your feet, the sight of bare trees, all of it. The other thing she liked was the translucent fog that covered the ground after rain storms in October. It had this certain smell, like cold water slowly transforming into fog and then melting away.
On their third Autumn in the forest after such a rainstorm, Tom went out hunting and Lisa took a slow-paced stroll amongst the thinning fog. When she came to an eroding bolder something  rather peculiar crossed her line of vision, for what seemed to be a girl was wandering toward a pond that Lisa had never noticed before. She had long, rich blonde hair with a slight wave and one white stripe going down the back of her hair. Her hair went down to the bottom of her back and was in a loose, but effective, braid. Her skin was very, very pale and she had the occasional freckle. Although she was seemingly unremarkable, Lisa felt intrigued by her. The girl seemed to have this glow about her that made her look older than she was.
Noticing she hadn’t seen Lisa yet, Lisa walked forward trying very hard to be casual. “Excuse me?” Lisa asked. No answer. She tried again. Still nothing. Suddenly the mystery girl turned her head so abruptly that Lisa stumbled backwards and almost fell down. Her eyes were blue, cold and icy but with a fire of their own.
“What do you want?” the girl snapped. “Why are you following me?”
“I wasn’t,” Lisa stammered. “You look freezing. Do you want to come inside?”
All of a sudden the girl’s face softened, but just for a fleeting second. But nonetheless she replied, “If you insist,” and followed Lisa back through the dimly lit woods.
When the two walked in the door, instead of asking if she was okay or why she was home so late Tom burst out with, “Who the heck is this?!”
At these words the girl answered just as forcefully, if not more so, “Ana Greg, thirteen years old, orphaned at the age of five, left in an orphanage at the age of six.” And with that she stormed upstairs.
“Well, thank-you for that!” Lisa shouted. But before Tom could bark back, Lisa ran up the stairs looking for Ana. She soon found her in the spare bedroom looking through drawers. As soon as Lisa came in, she quickly put everything back and tried to pretend nothing happened.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Lisa said. Ana didn’t look up. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“You really think I’m going to stay and have dinner with that freak you call your husband?”
“Please? Do you have any place to stay? You could spend the night.” Lisa had always wanted a child. That was one of the things they disagreed about. She gave Ana a sympathetic look.
“You’re a good person,” Ana said warmly. “God loves you.” She smiled. It completely restructured her face. It made her beautiful, and persuasive.
“So, do you want to come down and eat something?” Lisa asked hopefully. That remark Ana made confused her and she thought getting to know her might explain it.
Ana smiled. “Okay,” she said, and they walked down together.
After dinner Lisa gave sheets and a blanket to their guest and saw her off to bed.
“If there’s anything you need, just call, okay?” Lisa told Ana. Ana nodded. As Lisa walked out of the spare room, she noticed a picture frame had fallen over. When she turned it right side up, she noticed something curious as she quickly observed the woman in the picture. Lisa pocketed it and turned off the lights.
Lisa hurrying into their bedroom swiftly took out the picture. Her heart racing, Lisa studied the face, hair, clothes, and radiant glow that softened her. Although she had never seen the picture before, she knew this glow. She had seen it on the girl in her house. But this was not Ana Greg. She was much too old to be Ana Greg.
Tom was finishing up the dishes when Lisa walked in the kitchen. It was a rather traditional kitchen, small but cozy. Lisa’s prized dishes inherited from her mother hung on the wall. Her mother had died when Lisa was twenty-four, so a little more then ten years ago. All around the kitchen there were traces of family members, dead or alive. Lisa picked up one of the pitcher from her mother’s collection. It had a painted grapevine growing around it. It had always been her favorite.
“Dear,” she carefully stated, “What did you think of that girl, Ana, who’s staying with us for the night?”
“She was polite, pleasant enough, why?” He grunted.
“I was just wondering if you caught where she lives,” said Lisa rather quickly.
“No, I didn’t. Why might you care?” replied Tom curiously.
“Oh, no reason. Just curious, that’s all. I’m gonna go to bed, ‘k?” She kissed him good night and went to her room. She took out the picture from Ana’s room. and gave it one last look before setting it on the table and putting on her pinstripe pajamas. Without any further thought about Ana or the woman in the photo, Lisa fell into a deep sleep.
At one o’clock she calmly woke up to find what seemed to be an angel, or something a lot like it. The angel floated above her, and took a red rose out of her hair and gave it to Lisa. It felt velvety soft between Lisa’s fingers. The spikes did not hurt her when she pricked her finger. The rose was beautiful, and Lisa experienced a sensation of grace and joy. The angel muttered something too soft for Lisa to hear, made a swift movement with her hands Lisa had never seen before, but took as a blessing. In the morning she had no memory of the dream, but found a red rose under her pillow.
Ana stayed with them for three days and three nights. Since she didn’t have a spare change of clothes, Lisa let Ana borrow her own, since they were about the same size. During the day she either helped Lisa around the house or went hunting with Tom. She had remarkably good aim for a beginner and shot two foxes and one rabbit. Ana was always very polite and courteous, but she seemed to keep her distance. It was as if she didn’t want to get attached to these people, or vise versa.
Every night Ana stayed there Lisa had the dream. And every night she received a red rose.  On her last night Ana hardly talked at all. She only conversed when she needed to, and even then they were short sentences. When Lisa went to bed that night she was visited once again by the  mysterious angel and was again given a rose, this time very light pink. And like before, she couldn’t understand what the angel was saying, although it was a blessing and she didn’t remember anything in the morning. But the rose was there.
When she got up that morning and went in to check on Ana, she wasn’t there. But she found a note on the bed. It only had one thing written on it: God loves you. Astonished, Lisa went into her room again and sat down on the bed alone, because Tom was out hunting. She fished around for that picture that looked so much like Ana. It wasn’t in her pocket. It wasn’t on her desk. She went in what used to be Ana’s room and still couldn’t find it. She looked all around the house, but it was nowhere to be found. Lisa spent the whole morning looking, under beds, in the kitchen, inside the refrigerator even, but it wasn’t there.
Tom got home about noon, and the couple went to the Great Haven Cemetery to visit Lisa’s mother, who had died three years ago that day. Ironically, that was about the same month Tom and Lisa had moved into the Victorian house. Emily Hanson she had died at the age of sixty-seven due to bone marrow disease. She was cremated and buried under a grave with two angels, one on either side. Her epitaph said  “All that is gold melts the heart”.
Tom started the car and they left the woods in silence. Lisa was too preoccupied looking out the window and admiring the fall. Every single tree was bare with a skirt made of a mixture of reds, yellows, and browns. Tom was too busy thinking about how he almost caught a deer, but it leaped away and narrowly missed the bullet. If he had only been a little more patient, or acted a little quicker, then he and his wife might be having an elegant dinner in honor of her mother. That was how Lisa learned how to cook deer, from her mother. It was her specialty. Every Christmas Tom would catch a deer and Lisa and Emily would cook it.
When they finally reached the cemetery it was about two o’clock and the flowers had almost wilted. Except for the three roses Lisa had received every night. They were still in the peak of bloom. She still didn’t remember any of it and most likely never will.  They silently stepped out of the old pickup truck and walked solemnly up to Emily’s grave. Silent tears were gushing down her rosy face and traces of mascara followed. Lisa bent down slowly and placed the bouquet on the yellowing grass. All except for one rose. She kept the red rose she received on the first night. For some reason it didn’t seem right to put that one there. It was as if the mystery of the rose would put strain on her mother’s memory, or Emily herself.
Instead, Lisa went looking around the cemetery, watching the graves, occasionally reading the epitaph and blessing the corpse if he or she was a child. She listened to the rustling leaves and imagined something other than wind was moving them. Lisa heard the whistling wind blowing through the naked trees. Until she spotted something. Something very bizarre. For, lying next to a grave Lisa must have overlookd was a picture positioned very carefully facing the marker. The one Lisa had been searching for all morning. She snatched it up and, gripping it tightly by the edges, turned it over. One word was written on it, “Mama.” No explanation, no nothing, except “Mama” in the same arched handwriting Ana had. Lisa looked up to see where she had found it. Her heart skipped a beat. Her stomach jumped. Pigs started flying. A sudden struck of horror overpowered Lisa. It couldn’t be. She looked around, hoping to find Tom and have him prove her wrong, for the name on the grave was one she knew. Surrounded by swans and bellow an etched in rose it read God Loves You.

Description
God Loves You. That was all it said. No name, date of birth, or death. Just God Loves You. It was set on the west side of the cemetery, under an old birch tree. The tree was still alive, but barely. Maybe that was she was buried there. Every year one less leaf sprouts, until one day it will die. Most of the time the grave marker was bare, but once a year when all the trees were burning up in flames, a single bright red rose lay. They say she was found in fall, when all but one leaf remained green.
***
In the middle of a forest a small, old Victorian house was occupied by a couple, Lisa and Tom. Tom loved to hunt, which was the main reason they lived there. The only two things Lisa liked about the place were the crimson, gold, and orange leaves delicately drifting down in the fall. Lisa loved the fall. The crunch of leaves under your feet, the sight of bare trees, all of it. The other thing she liked was the translucent fog that covered the ground after rain storms in October. It had this certain smell, like cold water slowly transforming into fog and then melting away.
On their third Autumn in the forest after such a rainstorm, Tom went out hunting and Lisa took a slow-paced stroll amongst the thinning fog. When she came to an eroding bolder something  rather peculiar crossed her line of vision, for what seemed to be a girl was wandering toward a pond that Lisa had never noticed before. She had long, rich blonde hair with a slight wave and one white stripe going down the back of her hair. Her hair went down to the bottom of her back and was in a loose, but effective, braid. Her skin was very, very pale and she had the occasional freckle. Although she was seemingly unremarkable, Lisa felt intrigued by her. The girl seemed to have this glow about her that made her look older than she was.
Noticing she hadn’t seen Lisa yet, Lisa walked forward trying very hard to be casual. “Excuse me?” Lisa asked. No answer. She tried again. Still nothing. Suddenly the mystery girl turned her head so abruptly that Lisa stumbled backwards and almost fell down. Her eyes were blue, cold and icy but with a fire of their own.
“What do you want?” the girl snapped. “Why are you following me?”
“I wasn’t,” Lisa stammered. “You look freezing. Do you want to come inside?”
All of a sudden the girl’s face softened, but just for a fleeting second. But nonetheless she replied, “If you insist,” and followed Lisa back through the dimly lit woods.
When the two walked in the door, instead of asking if she was okay or why she was home so late Tom burst out with, “Who the heck is this?!”
At these words the girl answered just as forcefully, if not more so, “Ana Greg, thirteen years old, orphaned at the age of five, left in an orphanage at the age of six.” And with that she stormed upstairs.
“Well, thank-you for that!” Lisa shouted. But before Tom could bark back, Lisa ran up the stairs looking for Ana. She soon found her in the spare bedroom looking through drawers. As soon as Lisa came in, she quickly put everything back and tried to pretend nothing happened.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Lisa said. Ana didn’t look up. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“You really think I’m going to stay and have dinner with that freak you call your husband?”
“Please? Do you have any place to stay? You could spend the night.” Lisa had always wanted a child. That was one of the things they disagreed about. She gave Ana a sympathetic look.
“You’re a good person,” Ana said warmly. “God loves you.” She smiled. It completely restructured her face. It made her beautiful, and persuasive.
“So, do you want to come down and eat something?” Lisa asked hopefully. That remark Ana made confused her and she thought getting to know her might explain it.
Ana smiled. “Okay,” she said, and they walked down together.
After dinner Lisa gave sheets and a blanket to their guest and saw her off to bed.
“If there’s anything you need, just call, okay?” Lisa told Ana. Ana nodded. As Lisa walked out of the spare room, she noticed a picture frame had fallen over. When she turned it right side up, she noticed something curious as she quickly observed the woman in the picture. Lisa pocketed it and turned off the lights.
Lisa hurrying into their bedroom swiftly took out the picture. Her heart racing, Lisa studied the face, hair, clothes, and radiant glow that softened her. Although she had never seen the picture before, she knew this glow. She had seen it on the girl in her house. But this was not Ana Greg. She was much too old to be Ana Greg.
Tom was finishing up the dishes when Lisa walked in the kitchen. It was a rather traditional kitchen, small but cozy. Lisa’s prized dishes inherited from her mother hung on the wall. Her mother had died when Lisa was twenty-four, so a little more then ten years ago. All around the kitchen there were traces of family members, dead or alive. Lisa picked up one of the pitcher from her mother’s collection. It had a painted grapevine growing around it. It had always been her favorite.
“Dear,” she carefully stated, “What did you think of that girl, Ana, who’s staying with us for the night?”
“She was polite, pleasant enough, why?” He grunted.
“I was just wondering if you caught where she lives,” said Lisa rather quickly.
“No, I didn’t. Why might you care?” replied Tom curiously.
“Oh, no reason. Just curious, that’s all. I’m gonna go to bed, ‘k?” She kissed him good night and went to her room. She took out the picture from Ana’s room. and gave it one last look before setting it on the table and putting on her pinstripe pajamas. Without any further thought about Ana or the woman in the photo, Lisa fell into a deep sleep.
At one o’clock she calmly woke up to find what seemed to be an angel, or something a lot like it. The angel floated above her, and took a red rose out of her hair and gave it to Lisa. It felt velvety soft between Lisa’s fingers. The spikes did not hurt her when she pricked her finger. The rose was beautiful, and Lisa experienced a sensation of grace and joy. The angel muttered something too soft for Lisa to hear, made a swift movement with her hands Lisa had never seen before, but took as a blessing. In the morning she had no memory of the dream, but found a red rose under her pillow.
Ana stayed with them for three days and three nights. Since she didn’t have a spare change of clothes, Lisa let Ana borrow her own, since they were about the same size. During the day she either helped Lisa around the house or went hunting with Tom. She had remarkably good aim for a beginner and shot two foxes and one rabbit. Ana was always very polite and courteous, but she seemed to keep her distance. It was as if she didn’t want to get attached to these people, or vise versa.
Every night Ana stayed there Lisa had the dream. And every night she received a red rose.  On her last night Ana hardly talked at all. She only conversed when she needed to, and even then they were short sentences. When Lisa went to bed that night she was visited once again by the  mysterious angel and was again given a rose, this time very light pink. And like before, she couldn’t understand what the angel was saying, although it was a blessing and she didn’t remember anything in the morning. But the rose was there.
When she got up that morning and went in to check on Ana, she wasn’t there. But she found a note on the bed. It only had one thing written on it: God loves you. Astonished, Lisa went into her room again and sat down on the bed alone, because Tom was out hunting. She fished around for that picture that looked so much like Ana. It wasn’t in her pocket. It wasn’t on her desk. She went in what used to be Ana’s room and still couldn’t find it. She looked all around the house, but it was nowhere to be found. Lisa spent the whole morning looking, under beds, in the kitchen, inside the refrigerator even, but it wasn’t there.
Tom got home about noon, and the couple went to the Great Haven Cemetery to visit Lisa’s mother, who had died three years ago that day. Ironically, that was about the same month Tom and Lisa had moved into the Victorian house. Emily Hanson she had died at the age of sixty-seven due to bone marrow disease. She was cremated and buried under a grave with two angels, one on either side. Her epitaph said  “All that is gold melts the heart”.
Tom started the car and they left the woods in silence. Lisa was too preoccupied looking out the window and admiring the fall. Every single tree was bare with a skirt made of a mixture of reds, yellows, and browns. Tom was too busy thinking about how he almost caught a deer, but it leaped away and narrowly missed the bullet. If he had only been a little more patient, or acted a little quicker, then he and his wife might be having an elegant dinner in honor of her mother. That was how Lisa learned how to cook deer, from her mother. It was her specialty. Every Christmas Tom would catch a deer and Lisa and Emily would cook it.
When they finally reached the cemetery it was about two o’clock and the flowers had almost wilted. Except for the three roses Lisa had received every night. They were still in the peak of bloom. She still didn’t remember any of it and most likely never will.  They silently stepped out of the old pickup truck and walked solemnly up to Emily’s grave. Silent tears were gushing down her rosy face and traces of mascara followed. Lisa bent down slowly and placed the bouquet on the yellowing grass. All except for one rose. She kept the red rose she received on the first night. For some reason it didn’t seem right to put that one there. It was as if the mystery of the rose would put strain on her mother’s memory, or Emily herself.
Instead, Lisa went looking around the cemetery, watching the graves, occasionally reading the epitaph and blessing the corpse if he or she was a child. She listened to the rustling leaves and imagined something other than wind was moving them. Lisa heard the whistling wind blowing through the naked trees. Until she spotted something. Something very bizarre. For, lying next to a grave Lisa must have overlookd was a picture positioned very carefully facing the marker. The one Lisa had been searching for all morning. She snatched it up and, gripping it tightly by the edges, turned it over. One word was written on it, “Mama.” No explanation, no nothing, except “Mama” in the same arched handwriting Ana had. Lisa looked up to see where she had found it. Her heart skipped a beat. Her stomach jumped. Pigs started flying. A sudden struck of horror overpowered Lisa. It couldn’t be. She looked around, hoping to find Tom and have him prove her wrong, for the name on the grave was one she knew. Surrounded by swans and bellow an etched in rose it read God Loves You.