Okay, applying gluttony to areas other than just food, I can count it …
"Good things come in small packages," her mother prompted Eloise, for Eloise was little for her age but smart. She understood her mother’s love, she knew that she would grow someday, but still she ordered cake instead of tart.
And all the smaller she remained, all the larger her eyes grew. A horse and not a pony; a pumpkin, not a pear; she always headed first to pet the elephants at the zoo.
Each night at evening meal Eloise heaped on the mashed potatoes, great slabs of beef and boats of gravy on her plate. Of course, she’d grow, but oh, so slow, and as with all else in life, of slices out of time she wanted more.
Her little brother Heath was more than four years younger, and yet he towered above her in quite no time at all. She sanded down his shoe-soles, tied him to a tree, and yet despite her best attempts he grew so tall.
One Christmas Eve she heard the sound of sleighbells on the roof; rose and ran downstairs to find St. Nick himself with satchel black with char. With blue eyes wide and anxious, she asked him for a prize. “The biggest, bestest, heaviest and most,” she did demand. But he reached out and showed a tiny gold wrapped box within his fuzzy mittened hand.
“No, no!” she cried, “I want much more than that small golden gift. I want the stars, the moon and all the sky that they are in!”
Santa frowned, but nodded, pulled a present from his sack; it was so big it nearly knocked Heath’s Lionel off its track. It bent the boughs of the Christmas tree, it reached the kitchen door, it made the wood floor creak; but Eloise smiled and nodded, with a promise not to peek.
So early Christmas morning, Eloise snuck right down to see, what Santa could have left that wouldn’t fit beneath the Christmas tree. She tore the ribboned wrappings, stood to reach upon a chair. But when she got it open, the box was filled with sky and empty air.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I can’t stop smiling. This was so wonderfully fun to see, and thanks for expending the effort to create such a thing.
I especially loved this: “Her little brother Heath was more than four years younger, and yet he towered above her in quite no time at all. She sanded down his shoe-soles, tied him to a tree, and yet despite her best attempts he grew so tall.”
This was perfect, and perfect doesn’t come so easily. I loved the entire thing, every rhyming morsel, and every smiling space. Just perfect.
Oh, I’m so glad someone appreciated and enjoyed it. All of these were such fun to write, and reminded me of the good times when words flowed easily and ideas were exciting. Thank you for letting me know that my work went further than just an exercise in story line!