How Emmy Sees Frog
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It
didn’t really, really look like a frog, but once named, the name stuck. Emmy’s Golden Frog.
As it was a gift from her father’s hand into her own, she prized it above all others, at the same time having no idea of the worth of something like ten ounces of gold. Not that monetary value was anything that crossed her mind.
Here’s a picture for you. Imagine a black haired, four year old girl child playing with a nugget of gold as other girls play with Barbies or whatever faux creature they might possess. You know the things they do, right? They use their toys like experimental lab equipment. They literally dig in the dirt with Barbies. I have seen this. Some little girls are impelled to improve their dolls also, but Emmy was a bit young for that urge.
Frog must go wherever she goes at all times. Mostly he rode in her pockets, to be brought out when required.
He met the hens mornings when Emmy went with Beth or Jessie to feed the girls. Sometimes he jumped right into the chicken feed and buried himself, just to reappear as the chickens ate the level down. Sometimes he dove into their water.
He helped in the garden also. When Emmy pulled a weed, Frog was in her hand helping. He got dirty, but he still shone in her little mitts. He was easy to find, shiny as he was.
One day Emmy and Beth decided to go play at the side of the little stream running nearby. It was a warm day. Emmy wore only some shorts and a t shirt striped, green, black, and white. Frog rode in her shorts pocket as usual.
Beth stood smiling watching the child wade just ankle deep in the moving water. Emmy bent to pick up various colored pebbles. Then she would toss them into the water to see the splash. They must have played there for an hour or so. At last Emmy decided to show Frog the river. But Frog was gone. Where could he have gone? There were tears as mother and child searched up and down where they had been, but he remained hidden somewhere, presumably in the water. At last, they had to return to the house.
It was a solemn, tear stained walk. The father and the old one were informed. They tried to comfort her. Later they had dinner, and everyone went to bed. Emmy had her plush Puma to help her sleep.
They say that into every life some rain must fall, also it must be said that into every life there are unaccountable mysteries, miracles, if you will it.
You remember Honda, the pup found behind the mobile home one day? He had grown into a large, quite fuzzy, wise dog with great powers of observation and pointy ears. Dogs have nothing much to do but keep an eye on things, after all.
The next morning after the disaster, Jessie and Emmy went out to feed the hens their ration of chicken feed and to water them together. Honda came along as he usually did, even if he is not always mentioned. As the father and daughter were finishing up the pleasant little chore, Honda went tearing down the path to the river. In a couple of moments, he came running back, nearly laughing, as dogs do. He had something shiny in his mouth. Yes, it was Emmy’s Golden Frog! We shall never know where it was or how he knew or whether he just sniffed it out, smelling of Emmy as it must.
After the joyful reunion, and a little judicious cleanup of the Frog, Jessie told Emmy, “we must make him a little frog house, so that he can stay on your dresser top and never hide again!”
So, that is exactly what he did. He made a little frog house and painted it green and Frog lived there, unless Emmy was playing with him in the house, since he had become a house frog.
As it was a gift from her father’s hand into her own, she prized it above all others, at the same time having no idea of the worth of something like ten ounces of gold. Not that monetary value was anything that crossed her mind.
Here’s a picture for you. Imagine a black haired, four year old girl child playing with a nugget of gold as other girls play with Barbies or whatever faux creature they might possess. You know the things they do, right? They use their toys like experimental lab equipment. They literally dig in the dirt with Barbies. I have seen this. Some little girls are impelled to improve their dolls also, but Emmy was a bit young for that urge.
Frog must go wherever she goes at all times. Mostly he rode in her pockets, to be brought out when required.
He met the hens mornings when Emmy went with Beth or Jessie to feed the girls. Sometimes he jumped right into the chicken feed and buried himself, just to reappear as the chickens ate the level down. Sometimes he dove into their water.
He helped in the garden also. When Emmy pulled a weed, Frog was in her hand helping. He got dirty, but he still shone in her little mitts. He was easy to find, shiny as he was.
One day Emmy and Beth decided to go play at the side of the little stream running nearby. It was a warm day. Emmy wore only some shorts and a t shirt striped, green, black, and white. Frog rode in her shorts pocket as usual.
Beth stood smiling watching the child wade just ankle deep in the moving water. Emmy bent to pick up various colored pebbles. Then she would toss them into the water to see the splash. They must have played there for an hour or so. At last Emmy decided to show Frog the river. But Frog was gone. Where could he have gone? There were tears as mother and child searched up and down where they had been, but he remained hidden somewhere, presumably in the water. At last, they had to return to the house.
It was a solemn, tear stained walk. The father and the old one were informed. They tried to comfort her. Later they had dinner, and everyone went to bed. Emmy had her plush Puma to help her sleep.
They say that into every life some rain must fall, also it must be said that into every life there are unaccountable mysteries, miracles, if you will it.
You remember Honda, the pup found behind the mobile home one day? He had grown into a large, quite fuzzy, wise dog with great powers of observation and pointy ears. Dogs have nothing much to do but keep an eye on things, after all.
The next morning after the disaster, Jessie and Emmy went out to feed the hens their ration of chicken feed and to water them together. Honda came along as he usually did, even if he is not always mentioned. As the father and daughter were finishing up the pleasant little chore, Honda went tearing down the path to the river. In a couple of moments, he came running back, nearly laughing, as dogs do. He had something shiny in his mouth. Yes, it was Emmy’s Golden Frog! We shall never know where it was or how he knew or whether he just sniffed it out, smelling of Emmy as it must.
After the joyful reunion, and a little judicious cleanup of the Frog, Jessie told Emmy, “we must make him a little frog house, so that he can stay on your dresser top and never hide again!”
So, that is exactly what he did. He made a little frog house and painted it green and Frog lived there, unless Emmy was playing with him in the house, since he had become a house frog.
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