A woman gave away her newborn grandson to strangers. This is what happened next.
Life goes on. The Sower
Her cottage has long been avoided by the sowers. The village children now run to places where theyll be given a coin rather than a dry biscuit. Marthas homemade gin isnt exactly top-shelf eitherjust rough, homemade stuff. Only Fred, her neighbour, ever stops by when hes had a few too many and can barely stand.
“Bless this house, for health, for luck, for the new year pour us a drink, Martha, love!” hed slur, reciting the old saying by rote.
Shed pour him one, then take a sip herselfit helped her sleep. If only Fred had the sense to watch his words, but no, he always managed to hit a nerve.
“This is it, Martha, love just living out our days. Me and my old womanlike two rotten stumps in the woods! At least weve got no one to miss. But you? Youve got a daughter!”
“Drink your gin and stop yapping like that mangy dog of yours! I do have a daughter, even if shes God knows where! Now off you go, before I throw you out myself!” she snapped, shoving him towards the door.
Fred didnt hurry, even as she pushed.
“I know why youre angry I know. The whole village knows you gave your grandson away. Tell me its not true. Go on!” He smirked, leaning closer. “The old women say the boy haunts your dreams. Thats why your house glows at nightyoure afraid. Arent you? Heh”
“Listen, you drunk foolget out! And dont you dare come back!” Martha grabbed him by the collar of his grubby jumper and dragged him to the doorstep like a stray cat.
“Youve lost it, Martha! Let go!” he wheezed, struggling.
“Never again! You hear me? Never!” she shouted after him as he stumbled away, laughing.
He never returnednot for a drink, not for a chat. Maybe out of shame, maybe fear. She wouldve forgiven him, if only hed come back. It was tradition, after all. No one had heard what hed said but it was the truth. And truth stings.
She did dream of the boy. She could never make out his faceonly his eyes, glowing like embers. He stood on the threshold, asking to come in but never crossed it. Shed seen the dream countless times. Or maybe it wasnt a dream at all.
* * *
The sun was high when Martha accepted Fred wouldnt be visiting today. She remembered last years argument and the greasy feel of his jumper under her fingers. Sitting alone at the table, she poured herself a drink. It was a holiday, after all.
Outside, the dog barked wildly, then the porch door creaked. Someone was coming.
“Happy holidays! Mind if I bring a blessing?” A handsome young man stood at the door.
Martha shot up, stiff as a board.
“Come in, if youre here to bless”
“For health, for happiness” He scattered wheat grains.
Martha studied him. He glanced around the room as if searching for something. Was he here to rob her? If only Fred would walk in
“Did you want something, or just to bless the house? Who are you?” she asked uneasily.
“Its custom to offer the sower a bite, isnt it? But Ive brought my own.” He stepped forward, pulling wine, sausages, and cakes from his bag.
Martha, stunned, pulled a cast-iron pot of potatoes and roasted bacon from the oven and sat opposite the stranger, whod somehow helped set the table.
*”Must be one of Lucys lads but he looks too young. Why would she send him?”* she thought, dishing out the food.
The guest poured wine into glasses. She didnt know what to say.
“Youre not from around here. Looking for someone?”
“I am. Are you Martha Jones?”
“I am.”
“Was your husband Peter Jones?”
“He was. Passed now.”
“And your daughterLucy Jones?”
“Yes yes”
“If thats all true then Im your grandson. Victor.” He stood and offered his hand across the table. “Pleased to meet you.”
The room spun. The boy from her dreamsthe one who stood at the thresholdhad this mans eyes.
Martha gasped, swaying. Strong hands caught her, guiding her back to the bench.
“Dont be afraid. Im not here to blame you. I just wanted to see you. This house. My real mother died recently. Before she went, she told me everything. So I came.”
Martha sobbed, pouring out the story for the first time in her life. Victor watched her intently. When she finished, he stood, sighed, and glanced around.
“God be with you,” he said at the door. “Hell judge younot me.”
By the time she rushed outside, his car was already kicking up snow. She didnt catch the number, the makedidnt even think to ask where he lived.
* * *
Lucy had been an obedient girl.
“Youll be a teacher,” her father decided. “No marrying until youve finished school!”
She wasnt thinking of marriage anyway, though her parents had already picked a suitorAndrew, a soldier.
“Marry him, and youll want for nothing,” her mother insisted. “No village boys for you!”
Andrew was older, charming. When home on leave, girls flocked to himLucy included. Before he left, he made her promise to wait. She swore she would.
But being engaged wasnt so simple. Her mother warned her:
“If you must fool around, do it quietly. But hold onto Andrewmen like him dont come often.”
Lucy agreed.
*”I wont sit weeping by the window. Andrews far awayhell never know.”*
Then there was Jakeeasy, reckless. No promises, just fun. Until she slipped, mentioning Andrew. Jake turned vicious, beating her badly.
She hid the bruises, avoided home. Her mother sensed trouble and came to the dorm. One look, and she knewLucy was pregnant.
Jake apologised, offered marriage. Martha refused outright.
“Dont set foot in the village,” she ordered. “Andrews family cant know.”
Before rumours spread, Lucys father transferred her to another university. She obeyed, too afraid to argue.
Near her due date, Lucy “fell ill.” Her parents took her to a private hospital. Locked away, she read, watched TV. Alone.
When the baby came, she refused to hold him. The young doctor urged her to reconsider, but Lucy shook her head.
*”Mother knows best. What can Jake give me? A peasant who beats me? Andrew will never know.”*
She wrote to Andrew dutifully, sending letters to her village address. When he returned, they married in a grand celebration. Martha beamed with pride.
The couple moved to the city. On visits, Lucy boasted of their flat, their possessions. Martha swelled with pridebut her husband scowled.
One night, drunk and furious, he grabbed her.
“Youre no mother! You threw away a grandchild like trash!”
Martha wiped blood from her lip.
“Quiet, you fool! The neighbours will hear!”
Years passed. Lucy and Andrew visited less. Their marriage grew cold.
“Andrew wants children,” Lucy confessed. “But I cant have any morenot after you know. If he finds out hell make me confess.”
After her fathers sudden death, Lucy came alone. She and Andrew had split. She refused to explain.
“None of your business,” she snapped.
Andrew stormed in later, furious.
“Youre not human! How could you abandon a child? Even animals care for their young!” He spat at Marthas feet and slammed the door.
Lucy drifted in and out with various men. Martha scolded her until she stopped visiting altogether.
*”You ruined my life. Now Ill live as I please.”*
Where she was nowor if she was aliveMartha didnt know. If only shed had an address to give Victor.
* * *
Victor felt light, unburdened. Finally, he knew the truth that had gnawed at him for months.
When his fathera surgeondied of a heart attack, Victor took his place at the clinic. Colleagues said hed inherited his fathers skill and kindness. He adored his parents, loved hearing how much he resembled them.
His fathers death and his mothers illness shook him. He begged her to have surgery, but she refused. One night, reviewing her old medical records, he froze.
*How could I have been born after this operation?*
His heart shattered. *Who am I? Who are my real parents?*
