Choices and the Four Seasons:  A Short Story in Four Parts

1984 

Part 1.  Spring and Beginning

“Mike, look at these will you, aren’t they beautiful?”  Said nine year-old Peter to his closest friend.  “Only a few days ago, Mike, these were not here, and now they are so high, and there are so many colors, and so many different shapes, and are all over.”

Mike and Peter continued to closely look at and touch the flowers that were now blooming around the playground between the two buildings in which the boys lived.  The boys come out to the playground almost every day to play with each other and the other kids from the buildings.   And now it was well into spring and all the flowers’ buds had opened up into a rainbow that encircled the playground that contained a slide, a swing, a playhouse, and a sandbox all immersed in a field.  Mike and Peter and their friends went on playing for close to an hour when Peter's father appeared.

“Peter, dinner is ready” the father yelled across the field to the sandbox.  But, as usual, Peter hardly noticed his father and certainly ignored his request to come.  “Peter come now, Mother is putting dinner on the table and you must come now, do you understand!”  This time Peter looked up and listened, and as his father started across the yard, Peter grudgingly decided that he must go.  “Say goodbye to Mike and your other friends and tell them you’ll see them tomorrow” the father said as Peter picked up his truck and walked towards his father.  Together they entered their building and went up on the elevator to their floor.

Mashed potatoes, gravy, and roast beef were sitting on the table as they sat down.  The mother called from the kitchen “What do you want to drink Peter?” Peter answered “apple juice, please.”  What about you Roger?” and the father answered apple juice for me too.”  They were all sitting around the table eating when Peter said “There are so many pretty flowers down at the playground now.  You should see them all.  Dad, what kind of flowers are they?”  Dad answered “It seems to me that there are tulips down there and daffodils, and what are those others called, Donna, aren’t they violets?”  “Well, yes they are a type of violet, they are called pansies” the mother said.  Peter continued to talk about the flowers and to ask questions about them.

“How do flowers know what they are supposed to be, Daddy, and why do they become the colors that they do?  Suppose they don’t like it by the wall between the playground and the next building but would rather be by the corner of our building?  Do they know what size they will grow up to be?  Why some tall and straight and standout and others are are short and droop over and hard to see?  And Daddy suppose they are not happy as tulips but would rather be daffodils?  Can they change?”

“Son, no, they can’t change, but you see, they come up being what little things inside their seeds, from which they grow from, tell them to be.  These little things, called genes, tell the flowers what colors they will be, how tall and straight, or short and droopy, and whether they are tulips, daffodils, or pansies.  And as to where they grow up and whether they can be daffodils if they don’t like being tulips, son, they can’t change these things either.  They grow where the seeds come to rest in the earth and, once they are a tulip, they always have to remain a tulip.”

“Daddy, we are just like that aren’t we.  I mean we have brown eyes that won’t be blue and brown hair that will always be brown.  And we will be short or tall regardless of how much we eat?”

“Yes, son, there are many things about us, like flowers, that we cannot change.  But there is a difference.  We have been given an ability to change our minds and we can change where we live and who we want to play with.  But you see, son, all of this is up to us to determine and we must identify those changes that we can and do want to make.”

Part 2.  Summer and Desire

It was a bright summer Saturday and the bees were buzzing all about the garden as Peter’s mother and father picked the plums that had ripened since last Thursday, the last time they had picked from the tree.  The strawberries were fat and red, sitting on their leafy stems ready to be plucked up.  The blackberries, hanging in the hot sun’s rays, were bunched together ready to be pulled from their branches.  Peaches glistened amongst the tree’s leaves.  The garden was at its summer’s fullest.  The straight rows of vegetables laid side by side like ruled lines on a draftsman’s sheet.  There were broccoli, spinach, carrots, cauliflower, and many more.  The tomato, squash, and cucumber plants had long overgrown their boundaries.  The father stepped down off the ladder and he and Peter’s mother, carrying a pill of plums, walked to the garden’s table.

“Peter should be getting here pretty soon.   Ginny’s parents wanted her home by three, didn’t they Donna?” the father ask as he sat at the table.   The mother continued on with the plums towards the garden house as she answered “That’s right.  He should be here anytime.  In fact, Roger, I think I hear his car now.”   She entered the garden house, opened the refrigerator, and sat the plums on one of the shelves.  The garden house had, in addition to the small refrigerator, a sink, a hot plate, and cabinets.  Off to the other half of the house was a sofa that could become a bed.  In the refrigerator were strawberry and blackberry pies and plum cake.

As the mother left the house, Peter was entering the garden through the gate.  “Hi Mom, hi Dad, boy am I starved.  Ginny and I had such a great time at the swimming pool.  The water felt so good.  I kept going back in to cool off and swam and swam.  Nothing builds up my appetite more than swimming.”  Peter went over and sat at the table with his father.  His mother approached the table and said “well then, we have strawberry and blackberry pies and a plum cake and plenty of whipped crème.  What would you like?”  “I don’t know Mother, they all are so good, it’s really tough having to choose one over the other.  But, I think I’ll take some of the blackberry pie with lots of whipped crème, please.”

“Dad, I need to talk to you and Mother about Ginny and me.  Next year, I’ll be finishing with college and I’m thinking about what to do then.  You know that I have been thinking about going on to graduate school.  I’m also thinking about asking Ginny to marry me.  I really like her a lot and feel like I love her.  But Dad how can I be sure that she is the right girl for me and that there is not somebody else who would be better and who I could love more?”  The mother returned to the table with the pie, sat down, and Peter began to eat as his father started to talk.

“Son, these are very difficult questions to answer.  You know, as we sit here in the garden, we see a lot of different kinds of fruits and vegetables.  Some people don’t like the taste of one kind at all and others don’t like some other kinds.  Why?  I don’t really know but I guess it’s because of taste senses and smell senses, and the way we grow up liking and not liking the way things are fixed.  There are so many different factors that enter into it.  And then we can grow to like something, and you know once we’ve come to like something we usually continue to like it.  Well any way, whether Ginny is right for you, and whether you love her, and whether you will be able to live a life with her, son, only you and she can determine.”

Part 3.  Fall and Limitation

“Listen to that breeze crackling the leaves as it flows past them” Peter said, as he and Ginny walked down the trail that wound through the woods.   It was a beautiful, golden fall Saturday afternoon and they were all alone walking and talking.  They had gone away for the weekend to be alone and to have some fun.  They left their two children, John and Mary, age twelve and nine, with their friends Paul and Jan and their children.  The bright yellow, gold and red leaves that had shined so gloriously just a few days earlier were now beginning to fade and to snap off from their branches and to fall to the ground.  A smattering of leaves laid about the trail as Peter and Ginny continued to walk down it.  A slight chill began settling about them giving that sensation of fall in the air and winter approaching.

Peter would soon be forty-two and was finishing his fifteenth year with the government after getting his PhD in Public Administration.  He had been recognized by those senior to him for his outstanding contributions to the office and to the government.  Peter was dedicated to his work and to his family.  He worked hard but he also paid attention to his family.  Peter was a religious man, a strong believer in the truth of the Bible and in the life of Christ.  Peter and Ginny and their children went to church regularly and gave money and time to it.  Peter cared about things, both within and those about him.

Ginny, after working for eight years while Peter was in school and until the birth of John, settled into seeing after the children, the house, and their friends.  She and Peter had been relatively happy together.  All the money they had was what Peter earned and what they had saved during the twenty years of their marriage.  Ginny has simple tastes, like Peter, was not an exorbitant spender, and was unencumbered with worrying about the problems of the world.

“What a beautiful day this has been” Peter continued as they walked and looked around.  “The sound of that breeze against the remaining dying leaves and the sounds of the dropping leaves are relaxing.”

“Yes, I know.” Ginny answered.  “And the rays of the sun peeking past the trunks and the shadows that they make are so intriguing.  This is such a great time of the year.  I like it so much.  It’s so peaceful, such a pleasant period between summer and winter.  Peter, there’s something I need to say to you.  Lately, you seem to be really preoccupied, worrying about something.  It seems as if your mind is always off at work or somewhere.  I don’t know if you realize it but I certainly have noticed it.”

Peter thought for a few moments and then answered.  “Yes, I guess your right Ginny.  I have been worrying a lot recently and I’ve been very tired.  I’ve been thinking a lot about all the hard study and work that I’ve done over the past twenty or so years and wandering what the meaning of it all is.  I have also been thinking about whether my work is really what I want to be doing and what is best for me.  I know I’ve received recognition at work but I worry about what the real impact of it all is and whether it really means anything, and whether I will ever have any long-lasting and meaningful accomplishments.”

Ginny listened intensively and reflected as Peter spoke.  When Peter was finished, Ginny responded.  “In a way I guess it’s like these trees here.  Each tree adds to the beauty of the others and each has its place.  Together, all of them give us such a beautiful area to come to that means so much.  But I guess, if one of them was to be taken away, the overall effect wouldn’t change but with them all together they do ad up to mean so much.   And each tree has a function and certainly each tree is limited in growth and size and what it can add to the beauty of the woods.  I guess the type of tree that it is, its location, and the richness of the soil that it is in predetermines what it adds to the forest.  I would say that the important thing is not to worry that you are just one of the trees of the forest but as long as you decide that the group of trees that you belong to has beauty and you are growing to the heights you are able to then you should be contended.”

Part 4.  Winter and Ending

It was a cold, crisp-clear December night four days after Christmas that Peter was walking in on his way to his son’s house.  Peter had finally finished the book that John had lent him and was returning it that evening.  There was a full moon, the temperature was hovering just below the freezing mark, and thousands of stars sparkled deep in the sky.  Clearly seen, as Peter looked into the far away white clusters of unknowns, were the Sagittarius and Capricorn Constellations.  It had been a loving and happy Christmas with both John and Mary and their families visiting Peter and Ginny.  As Peter was walking, he was thinking of Christmas Day, Ginny and his children, and grandchildren.  It was a pleasant few moments for Peter and along with the beautiful night made him feel very good.

Peter reached the end of the street, rounded the corner, and walked up the walk to his son’s house.  As he entered, he handed the book to John and said “It was a marvelous book, John.  I’m so glad you recommended it and I was able to borrow it from you.  Thanks.”  “Don’t mention it Dad.  Come on in and have some hot chocolate and warm up a bit.”

Peter and John sat sipping their hot chocolate and staring into the fires and hot coals from the wood that was burning in the fireplace.   After a few moments, Peter spoke.  “John, as I was walking over here tonight, I noticed just how many stars you can see at this time of the year and how their brightness and sparkle seems to be so much greater now than at other times of the year.  Oh, what a glorious night it is for star gazing.”

When his Dad had finished, John asked “Dad, was the church decorated nicely for the Christmas service?”  “It was lovely, John.  You should have been there, and the service was so nice.  Father Thomas did such a nice job.”

John reflected for a moment and said “Dad, you noticed I that I wasn’t at church.  You know, I have missed quite a few Sundays over the past year.  I have been wondering quite a bit about the time that I have spent at church and doing things there and the meaning of it all.  I know you and Mom brought me up attending church and Sunday School on a regular basis. But now I really don’t know if I’m into continuing my activity with the church.  It’s not that I started disbelieving any more, but maybe it’s more that I was never really that much of a believer and I can’t see the point of it all.”

“Well, John, let me tell you how I feel about it.  The mysteriousness of religion and God is no less to me than probably to most other people.  In a sense my understanding of God and faith in him is like my understanding and faith in the stars that are so bright on a night like tonight.  As I was walking over here tonight, I was thinking about what was out there around all of those thousands of sparkling lights and how mysterious they are.  And as I think about it, my comprehension of their existence and their origins is like my comprehension of God’s existence and origin.  I have faith that they are there, I can see some of their results, I have faith that they serve a purpose just as I believe that God is there and has a purpose.  Through experience, I have come to have faith in the stars and their existence and through astronomy we have learned quite a lot about their physical properties. Likewise, through our experiences we gain faith in the purpose of God and through other people’s associations with God, recorded in the Bible and other works, as well as through God himself in Jesus, we have come to learn quite a lot about God.  But much mysteriousness about God as well as of the stars will always be there and only you can decide what their meanings are for you.”