Saturday night, intense cold and fog all around. Electric poles lined the side of the road, shrouded further in the mist. Mr. Martin was at the door of Jeff's house, a simple but vintage home located in the middle of the town. His hands trembling from the cold, he rang the doorbell.
After a few minutes Jeff opened the door and said, “Mr. Martin, Why are you standing outside in such an intense cold? Please come quickly.” Mr. Martin and Jeff sat in front of the burning fire; they sighed with relief, and the firelight glowed on both their faces.
Jeff, a sensible man of 30, who was struggling with the problem of arrhythmia, had been living in this town for more than 15 years; a hardworking person who had been away from his family for many years, he was little anxious about his life, He has been going through a big loss for almost a year.
Worry could be clearly seen on his face, with deep marks under his eyes, a faded skin complexion, and messed-up hair, he didn't know but people used to call him the Troubled Man behind his back.”
Mr. Martin was in front of him, Jeff said while giving a cup of coffee to Mr. Martin, “So, how is life going?” Jeff asked.
Mr. Martin took the warm cup of coffee in his hands and started warming them with its heat. “Sometimes peaceful, sometimes troubled,” he said.
Jeff looked at him and smiled slightly, “So, what do you do these days?” he asked.
“Sometimes I sit and start watching my breath, try to meditate, but it doesn't have much of an effect,” Mr. Martin said with a smile.
Jeff shook his head and looked at the flower pot nearby, a pot that had only one flower, the edge of the pot was broken, he suddenly remembered. “By the way, how is our flower field? I haven't been there for a long time, I hope there are colorful flowers swaying there,” Jeff asked.
“The flower field truly shows God's grace. The flower field has become very adorable. I go there for a walk every evening. Everything is fine, but for some days” he fell silent and started to think.
“Jeff kept looking at his face. ‘What about for some days?' he said.
“A stranger has been coming to your flower field in the evening.”
Jeff, becoming a little thoughtful, moved his chair a little closer to the burning fire. “A stranger,” he said.
“How long has he been doing this? I hope he is not stealing the flowers, like a thief” Jeff asked.
Mr. Martin started laughing and told him, “A thief? No, he looks like a good gentleman, why would he steal something like flowers? But I remember he has been doing this for about a few days, he just comes and leaves, comes and leaves in his car. “I don't think it's a cause for concern, maybe he just likes being around nature and flowers,” said Mr. Martin.
Jeff was completely silent, Mr. Martin could see that Jeff's mind was contemplating some old event, and after a few moments a faint smile appeared on his face, “Perhaps I know who it could be,” he said.
Mr. Martin was a little surprised, “You know him,” he said.
“Maybe, I mean it could be him, Mr. Martin, I want us to go to the flower field tomorrow and find out who that stranger is,” Jeff said.
“Alright, whatever you think is fine, I'll go home, the cold is intense,” said Mr. Martin.
The next day “Mr. Martin and Jeff were standing some distance from the flower field, trying to keep watch, but time was not passing quickly, Jeff looked at his watch many times, he strained his neck all around, there was no one far and wide.”
After waiting about two hours, no one came, They both got very bored, Mr. Martin was looking at the clouds in the sky. Some stones lay beneath Jeff's feet. Jeff was kicking stones with his foot. After a while there were no stones left around them with which he could pass the time by kicking, “Is anyone coming or not,” he said loudly.
“Perhaps he won't even come today,” Mr. Martin said. A little while later, evening began to fall, the sky was orange, and there was a chill in the air.
Jeff's eyes fell upon the colorful flowers swaying in the wind, and he became completely still.
“Mr. Martin, well, our coming here wasn't a waste; I was missing this beautiful sight every day. It's good, I came here today,” Jeff said. Mr. Martin also agreed with a nod while looking at the flower field.
“It feels like home,” he said.
The sound of a car approaching was heard, which was gradually getting louder. Just then a car came on the path near the flower field, and stopped near an old tree right at the edge.
“Mr. Martin, is that the same car?” Jeff asked. “Yes, it is,” he said. Both of them were watching everything very carefully and slowly started walking towards the car. But he was absolutely quiet. The sound of the car door opening, and a gentleman came out of the car. He was well-dressed and looked energetic. He slowly closed the door and looked up at the sky, the golden-red evening sky filled with clouds. He started walking towards the flowers, and reached right into the middle of the flowers.
Come quickly Mr. Martin,” Jeff eagerly started running towards that stranger, and stopped some distance behind him. Mr. Martin also slowly came behind them and stopped,
Jeff said, “Who are you and why do you come here, this is my flower filed”
The stranger turned towards Jeff and remained silent for a few moments. “Do I know you?” he said. He was in deep thought
When Jeff saw his face, he became a little curious.
“Mr. Emerson, is that you?, oh my gosh really” Jeff asked.
The person tried to recognize his face. They were a little happy, “I know you, I know you,” he said.
“Jeff, I'm right , oh Jeff, what are you doing here, you have grown up so much.” He was so excited.
Jeff shook hands with Emerson, looked at Mr. Martin, and said, “Mr. Martin, meet him, this is Mr. George Emerson,
Mr. Martin shook hands with Emerson and said it was a pleasure to meet him. He looked at Jeff and asked, “Do you know him? He is this the one you were talking about last night?”
“Yes, the person I suspected last night, who that stranger coming to our flower field might be, Yeah is him. You know we used to live in the same city about 15 years ago, he is a very kind and intelligent person,” Jeff said.
“Mr. Emerson, you know I got news by Mr. Martin, that a stranger comes to our flower field every day, I didn't think this was a matter for much attention, but perhaps I had a slight feeling that it could be you, that's why I came here, but I wasn't completely sure it would be you i suspected it could be you, after so many years.” Jeff said with a simple smile.
“Really, it's pretty good” Mr. Emerson said. He was overjoyed to hear this, and he smiled, shaking Jeff's hand, “I was very pleased to meet you again,” he said.
“after all, you can't stay in one place forever,” Jeff said.
“Yes, that's just what I do,”Emerson smiled.
Mr. Martin and Jeff sat down near a tree and engaged in a wide-ranging conversation. They had met after so many years, and there were a lot of things they were eager to discuss.
“Mr. Emerson, I've known you for a long time, but one thing always puzzles me,” Jeff said. “What?,” Emerson asked.
“Why do you visit the flowers, or close to nature every few days or sometimes every day, no matter where you live?” Jeff asked with a little curiosity. “Mr Martin has told me you come here, and I also know, Is there any story about it? What draws you to this place?” he asked.
Emerson remained completely silent and, placing his hands on his knees, kept looking at the flowers.
“We all love nature, do you love nature so much?” Jeff asked.
Mr. Emerson He was looking at the sky and seemed very energetic. Mr. Martin asked, “Is there a deep reason behind this silence?”
“No sir, after saying this much, he went silent, he looked towards Jeff, “it's a little bit complicated.” He said.
“Complicated? You always increase my curiosity even more. I want to know” Jeff said.
Mr. Martin shook his head and said, “Nah, We want to know.”
“WelI, I can try to explain it to you,” Emerson smiled and said.
The sun was about to set, darkness was slowly descending, and a profound silence was spreading all around.
Mr. Emerson looked at the watch on his wrist. “Okay, I'll give you the answer tomorrow,” he said.
“He shook hands with Mr. Martin and Jeff went towards his car, “He turned and looked towards Jeff and Mr. Martin, waved bye with his hand, he sat in the car, and departed towards his home.
“Mr. Martin sighed with relief, he seemed a little unconcerned. “So the mystery is solved, after all this stranger turned out to be someone you know,” Mr. Martin said.
“Yeah, Mr. Martin, we should go to our homes now. You know how intense this cold can be,” Jeff said, rubbing his hands together.
Sunday evening, the chill had increased slightly, there weren't many clouds in the sky, and the wind was strong. Emerson arrived at the flower field. He parked his car near the tree located at the edge and was looking all around. Wind was blowing, then his gaze fell on the tree located at the edge of the flower field.
Emerson tried to look a little further and he saw Mr. Martin and Jeff slowly walking towards them. He waved his hand. Jeff and Mr. Martin were walking near the corner of the road. They came to Emerson.
He shook hands with Emerson. “Sir, your hair is all messed up by the wind,” said Mr. Martin with a simple smile.
“My hair is just like that,” he said, running a hand over his hair and trying to fix it a little. “I know they won't get fixed, they are just like this,” Emerson said with a smile.
They sat down near the tree at the edge, just like yesterday. Emerson had a slightly old diary in his hand, which he had also brought with him.
“Jeff, yes I come here sometimes, and sometimes everyday. It's about nature. The truth is my gratitude brings me here. He handed Jeff a worn yellowish diary, “This is my Diary. You want to read it? and maybe you'll find your answer within,” Emerson said.
Jeff and Mr Martin sat together in more comfortable silence, surrounded by the vibrant, swaying flowers that danced gently in the breeze.
Jeff opened that diary, which contained handwritten notes by Mr. Emerson. Jeff's eyes were immersed in the pages of the diary, devouring every word, Emerson's past began to unfold.
“Stop gentleman, what about me sir, what I'm doing here,”Mr Martin said.
Jeff looked towards Emerson and said, “my opinion is, we would like to listen.” “That's the point,” said Mr. Martin with a simple smile.
“Yes sir… As you wish,” Mr. Emerson starts telling a story about himself.
11 September, Tuesdays
A pleasant day, slight rain and a slight chill in the weather. In a town near so many meters away from A city, full of natural beauty, in which there is a house near a big flower field, Mr. George Emerson who has just been transferred has come to live there. The house where Mr. Emerson is staying has a very natural view. Trees planted around the house, a two-story house with a balcony which faces the east.
He almost shifted all the belongings of his house. He was panting with tiredness. After all, he had been trying to put the house things in their right place for two hours, yet there was still a lot of work left. he suddenly appeared in the balcony
He went up the stairs to the upper floor and opened the balcony door. When Mr. Emerson reached the balcony for the first time. He saw a big flower field in which colorful flowers were swaying; even with so much sunlight, they were shining quite brightly. Clear sky, with light raindrops falling along with the sun, which were shining like pearls falling from the sky due to the sunlight.
There was a very beautiful scene in front of him, he felt the fragrance of many flowers, Suddenly in this moment, he found himself still, all the thoughts in his mind had stopped
His eyes were not moving away from those flowers and shining rain drops.
Seeing all this, he could not stop himself and quickly went downstairs and started heading outside the house. But some people were walking around outside his house, so he stopped himself from getting wet in the rain and went to meet them. He met a few people who were his neighbors, and he liked their kind behaviour very much.
Everything was going well, He was spending most of his time enjoying peace and with his neighbors.
He woke up at 6:00 AM, his mind was peaceful. Remembering God, he went towards the balcony, He slowly opened the room door and stepped out onto the balcony.
rested his hands on the balcony railing, stood there, and looked at the sky — the sun was about to rise and there was a slight light all around. As he caught sight of the flowers and inhaled their sweet fragrance, joy filled his heart.
A child, who looked about eleven years old, was walking towards the flower field. Emerson noticed him. He came near the field, walking along the edge, picked some flowers, and then started to leave, walking back along the edge. Emerson was smiling as he watched him.
Looking a little closer,
He saw that a person was standing in the distance whose face was not visible. That child went up to them, gave them one, and kept the rest for himself, and both of them started walking back
Then that child did not appear to Emerson for a few days, and after about one week, he saw the same child again in the morning, carrying flowers that he had plucked from the edge. This time, a white dog was with him, which was jumping and playing merrily around him.
In a few weeks, Emerson understood that this child sometimes comes, sometimes doesn't, sometimes comes with someone, and sometimes alone, and sometimes with his dog.
Sunday evening, Emerson was also on a two-day holiday, and was almost free from his work. He thought that he knew all the people around him, but he did not know the owner of the flower field. He felt that he should meet the owner of the field.
He inquired with many people that day, but no one could provide a precise location or any specific information, and this felt a bit strange. They tried hard to find the owner of the flower farm. No one could provide the owner's name or any information about him.
It is very strange that no one knows about its owner. Annoyed by all this, he simply went for a walk a short distance from his house. He wandered like this and covered some distance. He was walking all alone along the side of the road, with trees swaying in the wind on both sides.
Then he saw a beautiful house, because it had different trees and plants around it.
In the distance, he was passing by his house, and his eyes fell upon an elderly person who was sitting in his house's garden. Suddenly the old man looked at Emerson and asked, “Gentleman, are you new here? I've never seen you before.” He asked them, shouting from the garden.
Emerson smiled and walked a little closer to their graden.
“Yes sir, I'm George Emerson. I'm new here. I've been here for a few weeks,” Mr. Emerson said in a loud voice.
“What, I didn't understand what you said?”
The old man gestured with his hand to come in, “My name is Mr. White. Please, come in.” The old man said.
Emerson went inside the house and sat down near Mr. White in his garden. “What did you say, what's your name s,” the old man asked.
“My name is George Emerson. I've come for work. I've been here for a few weeks,” he said.
“Do you like to play chess?,” Mr. White asked simply. “Yes, Ofcourse” Emerson smiled. and soon they started a game of chess.
“Can I ask you a question,” Emerson asked.
“I tried, but I could not find any information. You have seen that beautiful flowers field, do you know who its owner is,”
“ I want to meet him,” he said.
Hearing this he started laughing. “I don't think you'll ever find out about them,” Mr white said. Emerson was very confused. “Why?” he said
“It's not difficult to meet him, but we don't know who he is. In fact the owner of that farm has forbidden everyone to tell anyone about them, I don't know why,” Mr. White said.
In the course of conversation, Mr. White won, and he said, ‘See, defeating you was easy.
“Emerson. Nice to meet you, You can come to meet me anytime you'd like,” Mr. White said.
“Sure, I'd be glad to, but next time, I will win.” Emerson replied. Emerson thought that searching for the owner of that flower field would only be a waste of time.
The next day, when Emerson woke up and came to the balcony in the morning, the child was again plucking flowers. He kept watching all this silently.
After a few weeks Emerson was on holiday and feeling bored, he remembered Mr. White. He started walking towards Mr. White's house to meet him. Mr. White was sitting peacefully in the garden, when Emerson came to Mr. White's house and started a long conversation with him. After talking for about 1 hour
Then the child who used to pick flowers came to Mr. White. He had some beautiful flowers in his hand. and he lovingly gave some flowers to Mr. White. There was a lot of innocence in his eyes.
“Thank you,” the child said.
And he went away. Emerson looked at that child carefully. Today Emerson saw this child closely for the first time. He was about to ask something about the child But the children's behavior had made him thoughtful for a few moments
“Who is this child?” Mr. Emerson asked with excitement.
“He is my son,” Mr. White said.
Emerson was very surprised.
“But why does he not look like you, he is so beautiful and innocent” Emerson said
“ I adopted,” Mr. White said.
Mr. White stood up and walked towards the back of the house, carrying the flowers. Emerson followed closely behind. They both reached the back side of the house
Emerson felt a slight fragrance of flowers and he was a little astonished at what he saw.
There were some fresh and many, many withered flowers there.
Mr. White kindly placed the same flowers that the child gave to them, with the pile of flowers and returned to the garden.
Seeing all this, Emerson was stunned. Emerson said surprisely “What's all this, Mr. White,”
“Actually my son gives me some flowers sometimes, and I always keep them. My child has been doing this thing for about long time,
Emerson became completely silent and seriously considered, “ohh, I saw him, he comes sometimes and plucks flowers,” said Emerson
“Yes, he loves doing it; when he does this, I see a lot of happiness in his eyes. Well, he does it for his own joy,” M.r white said with a simple smile.
“So it means he thanks you by giving me flowers every day,” Emerson said looking towards Mr. Write's eyes.
“Yeah, it's something like that, for joy,
I told him that there is no need for thanks, I am very happy with you. But he loves doing it,”
“It makes him happy, so I don't stop him, I just want to see him happy like this,” Mr White said.
For Mr. White, this was a common thing, but Emerson became a little thoughtful; perhaps this movement awakened some feeling within him. He was not blinking, his eyes were open continuously for a few moments, it seemed as if he had perhaps found the answer to some question.
after all this, and his respect for that child increases. After a few hours of conversation, and after losing five consecutive times in chess, He shook hands with Mr. White and said that he should go home, it was getting late, after all, he had to go to work the next day as well. Emerson returned in the evening. Sometimes some things point us towards something, something similar happened with Emerson
Over time, his friendship with his nearby neighbors and Mr. White grew deeper. He would spend most of his time — whenever he had a holiday, joking, talking, and playing Chess with him.
When he used to go to Mr. White's house, Now this happens many times in front of Emerson. Sometimes the child would joyfully bring a lot of flowers and give one of them to Mr. White and he feels very good.
One day, the child was giving flowers to Mr. White. Emerson called the child to him. The child now knew Mr. Emerson, so he came to Emerson without hesitation and stood near his ear; he was sitting in a chair, in front of Mr. White.
His face was very innocent, there was a sparkle in his eyes, But he was smiling at them, seeing this Mr. Emerson and Mr. White could not stop themselves from laughing; they were also laughing at him.
Emerson whispered in the child's ear, ‘Why do you thank Mr. White?'”
The child came close to Emerson's ear and whispered in a low voice, ‘What does thanks mean?'”
Emerson couldn't stop laughing at his innocence; he really didn't know what it meant. Emerson was happy and laughing then the child came close to his ear again and whispered.”
“If I thank him every day and throughout my life, it is still less,” The child said.
Emerson suddenly stopped laughing, and seeing the sudden seriousness on his face, Mr. White looked towards him and asked “what happened”, he was silent and just simply said, ‘Nothing.'”
But this thing touched Emerson's soul.
And Mr. White, like every time, took those flowers and kept them there, he keeps them there always
He never throws away those flowers, even if they wither completely,
Four Months later, Emerson was in the kitchen. He was sitting alone at the table and eating, when his phone rang. He went to the phone and picked up this call to inform him that he would have to relocate to another city.
He said okay, put the phone back, and went to his kitchen and sat down at the dinner table. He was peacefully thinking that
Emerson thought, “Well, one task is done, It was the joy of one of his tasks being completed, but when he remembered Mr. White and all those friends with whom he had become quite familiar in a few months, he felt a little pang of sadness.
He slowly came to the balcony. The view was just as beautiful in front of his eyes today as he had felt on the first day — the moonlight of the night and the large flower field right in front of the house. He propped his hands and stood on the balcony just as he used to. He could hear the faint chirping of crickets in his ears, and he could feel the cold of the night's silence. Emerson thought, ‘I will always remember this flower field.' He thought.
“Oh, I remember, I must tell Mr. White that I am going to leave this city in a few days, but it is very late at night now, so perhaps he should wait and tell Mr. White about it tomorrow.
On the evening of the second day, in the orange cloudy sky, Emerson came out of his house and stood alone at the edge of the flower field with his hands behind his back, he was just looking at the flowers swaying in the wind.
He knew that he had no attachment to this place, but one thing was clear to him that what he had learned from all of this, it matters to him.
The flowers were quite tall, their stems were also quite long, and they could be held in hand like a stick. He loved flowers, so he usually never plucked them. But maybe he plucked only one flower for the first time.
Emerson reached Mr. White's house as night fell, he was very happy and Mr White was very happy to see Emerson, “Emerson, let's have a one game of chess,” he said. You will see that I will win And the moment the chess began, Emerson looked carefully at Mr. White's wounds.
Seeing the very very fine marks from which one a little blood was coming out,
“These marks have not yet healed.” I'm worried it's rising, aren't you feeling pain, Mr. White?” Mr. Emerson said.
“Look, you are going to lose, and hearing this Emerson became engrossed in chess. Mr White won and then
“Mr. White, I want to tell you that I am leaving from here after a few days,” Emerson said. “Oh, now your work is done, what have you been hiding?” Mr. White said.
Emerson gave flowers to Mr. White and said happily, “Thank you Mr.White, you and your son gave me a great lesson. Mr. White shook Emerson's hand.
Mr. White took the flowers and little emotion was visible in his eyes, after some time Emerson came back to his home.
When Emerson washed his hands before dinner at night, he felt something, there was very mild fine cut in his hands, but not burning or pain, he looked at his hands carefully, Emerson's right hand had fine scratch marks just like Mr. White.
Seeing this, Emerson thought that perhaps Mr. White had some infection which had spread to his hands also.
He lay down in his bedroom to sleep, thinking that this was his last night in this town. But he could not sleep for many hours late at night. He got up and came to the balcony to look at the flowers and kept looking at them. The sky was dark blue. The flowers were swaying in the wind, which was giving peace to Emerson's mind.
He saw then an old man came there and started sowing new flowers in that field, Mr. Emerson saw him and Emerson thought that he was the owner of this field.
Seeing this, Emerson immediately reached the field, he silently started looking at the old man, that old man was Mr. White. Mr. White was sowing new flowers, and removing forks (thorn) from the flowers field.
Emerson understood that the pain and injury in his hands today was due to the bites of flowers.
And the scratch marks that Mr. White has also because he comes sometimes at night and removes the thorns from the flower field, he does this so that the child who plucks these flowers never gets stung.
Emerson approached Mr. White, “What are you doing here?” Mr. White said.
“So the bruises and wounds on your hands are because of this,” Emerson said with a simple smile.
Emerson also helped Mr. White, while helping he jokingly said “Why don't you plant uncut flowers.”
“The flowers that have thorns are mostly beautiful and delicate, don't pay attention to the thorns.”
Next evening when Mr. Emerson is leaving, he goes to Mr. White's house for the last time, and plays chess with him, then as usual the child comes to Mr. White with flowers,
Emerson and White looked at each other and just smiled. Emerson said goodbye to Mr. White and came home.
All of Emerson's belongings have been shifted from the house to the car, everything was ready to go,
Emerson said to the driver, “I will be back in a little while.” He came back slowly walking to the many flowers in front of their house. Very comfortably he went into the middle of the flower field and stood on his knees and said
“ Thank you”.