The Purpose of Irises- Chapter 1: New Beginnings

CHAPTER 1

New Beginnings

Tresses of the long, wavy dark brown hair streaked with young, faded blonde streaks unfolded from the intricate yet loose braided bun, flowing with the wind that was sweeping it away from the young woman’s face. The wind felt freeing, enlightening.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as some might call her, the bearer of this freely flowing hair had a passion for life. She loved it and she lived it.

With one look at her, you could tell she was a dreamer. With one look at her, one could easily fall in love with her as those soul-devouring eyes bewitched many men that she passed. That, however, was unknown to her as she had no experience in detecting or having feelings of romantic love.

The flower crown that had once been placed on the straw hat in Elizabeth’s hand as a farewell gift and made by the loving hands of her younger sister Jenevieve had started to wilt but not her courage and willpower to go on this new adventure.

The crown’s collection of lilies, dandelions, irises, daisies, daffodils and other wildflowers had their share of beauty, wonder and admiration as she stepped on the train to Hartford. Many wondered who this unique young woman was.

Lizzie wished that the flowers didn’t look so sad though as she got farther and farther away from home. She opened the train’s window enough to toss the dead flower crown out into the mountain range's valley and the river below speeding by with the help of the train’s illusion. She considered the act a testimony of being ready to start her new life, to let go of the past and embrace the present.

“Get down, Miss Miller. For heaven’s sake, what are you doing? You'll fall out and God knows what happens next," Mrs. Gordon scolded viciously as the train traveled over a bridge crossing a large river.

Lizzie’s traveling companion was one of her college instructors that had come along to see that she got to Hartford before she would go to her cousin’s residence in another town. Mrs. Gordon did not like to talk about death or the tragic events leading up to such a thing.

“I'm sorry for the fright, Mrs. Gordon,” Lizzie said cheerfully, sitting down again to face her. “It’s just that I haven’t seen the world go by this fast in a long time. It’s quite enlightening and invigorating, don’t you think?”

“Quite alright, dear. I suppose it’s been a while since you’ve seen anything but books and words. You’ll have plenty of time to frolic in Hartford.”

“Mrs. Gordon, are there any amusements there?”

“Quite enough, yes. In fact, I believe the county fair is about two weeks away.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“It sure is.”

The pretty youth sat, fixing her hair up to society’s approval and stared out the window, dreaming about what Hartford would be like and what people would think about her, especially the children. Elizabeth was still a child herself, especially at heart, as she was only nineteen. She had graduated top of her class, taking many scholarships and awards. She was an accomplished young woman but never vain. She hoped that she was liked well enough, as normal society does.

She loved to teach, children especially. Their minds were so full of dreams and hopes, some greater than her own. She marveled at their little blooming minds. But as much as she loved people, she would rather read a book and dream of the characters or be in Nature’s beautiful and awe-inspiring arms.

She decided, after watching the passing scenery for a while, to read one of her books that she had brought along. It was one of her favorites since her school days when she used to read in the dark by candlelight late into the night. To some extent, she still did that. She could hardly put down a good book. With that, she dedicated the rest of the train ride to trying to get through at least most of the book.

A young man across the aisle, coming home from a business matter out of town, watched the scene across from him in interest as he was trying to read the newspaper. He had never seen someone like her before. Her eyes caught his attention even though she did not look his way the whole train ride. She was different. He saw the immense amount of imagination in her.

She got off the train, received her small trunk and parted with her traveling companion, Mrs. Gordon, before looking for a ride to White Oaks. It was still quite a ways. She asked for directions from the man at the ticket booth. He pointed in the direction of a path, winding into the forest. She thanked him and started walking, picking flowers along the way. She did not mind walking. She would get the fresh air and take in the scenery at a better pace.

The same young man from the train, going the same path home in his wagon with his two magnificent light brown horses, made his way to introduce himself to her.