Mother's Day Morning
Copyright 2013 by Heather Rose Brown

A little girl 's past crosses paths with her present when she tries to create something special for Mother's Day.
(This story was written for the bestest mommy in the world, Holly H Hart. ^.^)
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Golden beams of sunlight peeked through two matching sets of tastefully draped curtains, heralding the start of a new day. The door on the other side of the bedroom creaked open, leaving just enough room for a slender girl with long, auburn hair to slip through. The ruffled hem of her pink, cotton nightgown fluttered around her knees as she tiptoed towards a figure curled up under a fluffy comforter.

The girl was standing at the side of the bed, trying to figure out which side the figure's head was, when the covers flew into the air, and a very awake woman grinned as she grabbed the girl's arm and said, "Gotcha!"

The girl squealed with surprise as she was pulled onto the bed, then said, "You was fakin', Mommy!"

"And you were sneaking into my room at the crack of dawn," the young mother replied as she reached for her daughter's tummy. The girl began giggling even before her mother started tickling her.

The mother finally relented, still grinning as she said, "Shhh, not so loud."

The daughter quieted as she cuddled up against her mother's side, then said, "Think we woke anybody?"

The mother slid an arm behind her daughter and pulled her close. They lay there together for a few seconds, both listening for the sounds of anyone else stirring, but all they heard were a couple of birds chirping in the tree outside the nearest window.

"Sounds like they're still sleepin'," the daughter whispered.

The mother stroked the side of her daughter's head as she asked, "What are you doing up so early?"

The daughter smiled at her mother and said, “ ‘Cause I wanted to be first to say, Happy Mother’s Day!”

The mother kissed the top of her daughter’s head, then said, “Thank you honey.”

The daughter kissed her mother’s cheek and said, “You’re welcome.” She sat up and added, “I got a present for ya too!”

“Oh! What is it?”

“Well, I started out makin’ ya breakfast--"

“On, the stove?” asked the mother, sounding worried. Even though she knew her daughter retained memories of her past as an adult, the girl still mostly thought and acted like an eight-year-old, which was why the mother had limited her daughter's use of the stove to only when an adult was present.

The daughter shook head and said , “No, but I did use the mic. Ya said I could use it, right?”

“Yeeees ... I did say you're allowed to use the microwave,” the mother answered, wondering where this was leading.

“Well, I’d tried makin’ bacon an' eggs, but I couldn't find the bacon, an' the eggs kinda …” the daughter bit her bottom lip for a moment, then said, “they ‘sploded. Sorry.”

The mother sat up and gave her daughter’s shoulders a comforting squeeze as she said, “That’s okay. It’s the thought that’s important.”

The daughter's worried expression turned into a huge smile. “I did make ya somethin’ else, though.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! I made a story for ya.”

“That sounds wonderful! Did you write it down?”

“No, I still got it in my head. I was gonna tell it to ya first, then write it later. Is that okay?”

“Of course, dear. Whether I've read or heard your stories, I’ve always enjoyed them.”

The daughter blushed as she said, “Thank you, Mommy. Ummm … I ain’t thought of a name for the story yet, but this is how it goes.”

The daughter sat up a little straighter and said, “Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived a long time ago in a place far, far away. She was pretty much like other little girls, 'cept for one thing: everybody thought she was a boy. For a while she tried tellin’ people she was a girl, but they either thought she was playin' around or just bein' weird.”

“After a while, she stopped tellin’ people she was a girl an’ did her best to pretend she was a boy. It was hard for her, 'cause she felt like she was in a play where everyone laughed or got mad at her ‘cause she didn’t know how to play her part.”

“As she got older, she got better at actin' like a boy, but it was really hard to do, so one day she just stopped. Bein' herself was wonderful 'cept for one thing. She was in a grown-up body now, an’ people 'spected to act like a lady instead of a girl.”

“It wasn’t easy, but she made it work by dressin' an’ acting younger when she could get away with it. For a long time, she though that'd be the best she could hope for, 'til one day somethin' magical happened. The little girl became a part of a magic family that was able to make her outside match what she really was inside.”

The daughter’s shape began shifting, growing taller and broader. Her hair thinned a little, and a few grey strands became visible. There was still a roundness to her face, but stubble had started dotting her tender skin. The only thing that didn't change were her sky blue eyes, which burned brightly with the soul of the girl behind them.

The transformed child spoke in a deeper, yet still feminine voice as she said, “What was more magical than havin' her outside changed, was findin' a mommy who could see the girl for herself, even when her outside looked like a grown-up.”

The mother reached out and took the hand of someone she hadn’t seen for ages, then finally found her voice and asked, “What happened? Did someone reverse the transformation spell on you?”

“Nobody did it to me. I kinda did it myself.”

“You did magic? Like your cousin?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like ... I can shift between shapes. I think it’s part of how the spell was changed for me so I could hold onto memories and stuff from before.”

The mother blinked a few times, looking baffled. “So, do you not want to be a little girl anymore?”

“Oh no! I’m happy bein’ little. I just wanted to change for a minute, ‘cause I wanted to tell ya somethin' as the old me.”

The mother squeezed the hand she had been holding and said, “You know you can tell me anything. What did you want to say?”

“I just wanted to say, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have you for a mommy." The oversized child began sniffling as she said, "I also wanted to tell ya that I love ya, Mommy ... more'n I know how to say.”

Even though the mother was looking at someone who was the shape and size of an adult, she saw it was still her child sitting beside her. Without a second thought, she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace as she said, “I love you too.”

For a brief moment, the mother felt two arms around her neck, then there was only one smaller set of arms.

When the hug finally ended, the daughter was back to her younger shape again. She was wiping tears from her face as she smiled her brightest smile and said, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.”