Leonard stubbornly refused to believe that Isla was his daughter. His wife, Vera, worked at the local shop. People would gossip, saying she often locked herself in the storeroom with men who werent her husband. That was why Leonard doubted that the petite Isla was his child and took a dislike to her from the start. Only Islas grandfather ever showed her kindnesshe was the one who left her his house.
Grandad was the only one who loved little Isla
As a child, Isla was unwell quite often. She was fragile and small for her age. No one in your family, nor mine, has ever been that tiny, Leonard used to remark. This child is no taller than a milk bottle. Over time, his indifference toward his daughter spread to her mother as well.
The only person who truly loved Isla was her granddad, Matthew. His cottage stood on the very edge of the village, beside the woods. Matthew had spent his whole life as a forester, and even after retiring, he still went to the woods nearly every day, gathering berries and medicinal herbs. In winter, hed go out to feed the animals. People thought he was a bit odd, perhaps even slightly mysterioushed say something out of the blue and it would come true. Nonetheless, people still visited him for his healing teas and herbal remedies.
Matthew had buried his wife long ago. His comfort had become the woods and his granddaughter. When Isla started school, she spent more time at her grandfathers than at home. Matthew told her all about the healing powers of different plants. Isla was quick-witted and bright, and learning came naturally to her. When people asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, shed reply, I want to help people get well. Her mother insisted she had no money for Islas schooling. But Matthew reassured the little girl, saying he wasn’t poor and would helpand if it came to it, he could always sell the cow.
He left his home and happiness to his granddaughter
Vera, his daughter, rarely visited. Then one day, she suddenly appeared at his doorstep. She had come to ask for money because her son, Andrew, had lost badly in a card game in London and had been beaten when he couldnt pay. Theyd told him that he must find the cash, no matter what.
So you cross my threshold only when youre desperate? Matthew admonished sternly. Youve not bothered to visit me for years! He refused to bail out her son. Im not covering Andrews debts. My priority is Islas education.
Vera was furious. I want nothing to do with either of you. I have no father or daughter anymore! she shouted and stormed off. When Isla got into nursing college, her mother and father didnt give her so much as a penny. Only Matthew supported her. Her scholarship helped, since Isla achieved top marks.
Just before graduation, Matthew fell ill. Sensing his end was near, he told Isla hed left the cottage to her in his will. He encouraged her to find work in the city but made her promise not to neglect the house, for a home lives only while it feels the warmth of its people. Dont be afraid to stay here alone. Your destiny will find you in this cottage, he predicted. Youll be happy, my dear. It seemed he knew more than he let on.
Matthews prophecy came true
Matthew passed away in autumn. Isla began working as a nurse at the county hospital, spending weekends at her granddads cottage, lighting the fire on cold nights. Matthew had chopped enough firewood to last a long while. The forecast was miserable, but Isla had two days off and didnt want to spend them at her rented room in an elderly aunts flat.
She arrived at the village one evening, and that night a snowstorm began. By morning, the wind had eased, but the snow kept falling and blocked the road. The sound of knocking startled her. She answered the door and found a young man she didnt recognize. Afternoon. Im trying to dig out my car, but its stuck opposite your cottage. Have you got a shovel? he asked.
Its by the front porch, help yourself. Do you need a hand? she replied. The tall stranger smirked at the tiny nurse and replied, Best notdont want you getting buried in the snow, too.
He set to work with the shovel, managed to start his car but only made it a few yards before getting stuck again. Isla invited him in for a cup of hot tea. The snowstorm might let up soon, and the road would be clearedplenty of cars passed through here.
The visitor hesitated, then shrugged and followed Isla indoors. Arent you scared living alone by the woods? he asked. She explained she only came out on weekends, working in the city. She was a bit worried about getting back if the bus didnt run. The stranger, who introduced himself as Stanley, offered her a lift since he also needed to get to town. He lived there. Isla agreed.
After work one day, Isla decided to walk home, and bumped into Stanley unexpectedly. Must be your herbal tea thats enchanted me, he joked, I just had to see you again. Maybe I could persuade you to share another cup?
They never had a wedding ceremonyIsla didnt care for one. Stanley had wanted one at first but eventually let it go. What they had was real love. Isla learned that men really do cherish their wivesjust as the books say. When their first child was born, everyone at the hospital marvelled that such a strong boy had come from such a petite mother! Asked what theyd name their son, Isla answered, Hell be Matthew, after a truly special man.Stanley beamed at the answer, and the nurses all murmured their approval, their eyes shining. Isla swaddled her newborn and gazed down at his tiny face, thinking of winter nights by the cottage hearth, Matthews careful hands showing her the difference between feverfew and yarrow, and his gentle, unwavering love. She pressed a kiss to her sons forehead, promising silently to protect him from loneliness, and to fill his life with warmth and kindness as her granddad had done for her.
When spring came, Isla took baby Matthew for long walks through the woods, teaching him the names of wildflowers and singing the lullabies her grandfather had sung to her. Neighbors would wave to them, pausing to accept a pouch of Islas dried herbs or to ask for advice. Some even remarked, a little in awe, that it felt as if Matthew himself had returned, for Isla moved through the village with the wisdom and grace of someone beloved and rooted.
Years later, the old cottage still glowed with lifelaughter spilled from its tiny kitchen, friends dropped by for Islas healing teas, and the woods outside always seemed to shelter her family. And sometimes, on quiet evenings by the fire, Isla would tell her son stories about a kind grandfather who believed in impossible things, and how love, like the wildflowers in spring, could always find a way back to the light.
