Roses for Minnie
Dedication
To Angie’s niece who wanted a story for her red fish.
Four-year-old Minnie sat in dismal heap at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t want to play with Ronnie when he started to build a farm for their toy animals. She wasn’t interested in listening to Lacey reading stories to little Willow. She wasn’t even interested in helping Mom make muffins for supper.
Daddy paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at the forlorn little heap. He wondered what was making his little girl so sad. “What’s the matter, Minnie Joy?”
“Oh, Daddy, I want one too, but Uncle Dale said it might die over here.”
Daddy sat down on the stairs and patted the step beside him. “Come tell me all about it.”
With a sigh, Minnie got up and sat down beside Daddy. She leaned against him and thought he was the nicest Daddy ever. He listened to her troubles. Her friend Jaina said her daddy was too busy.
“What has Uncle Dale got that you want?”
“A fish, Daddy. A beautiful red fish that swims in the water. Uncle Dale has one and he showed it to me. But he said I couldn’t hold it. I would have been very careful.”
Daddy gave a little cough. “Fish can’t live out of water, Minnie,” he explained. “They die if they can’t be in water. That’s how they breath. God made fish to breath in water and people and other animals to breath air.”
A little frown puckered Minnie’s forehead. “I could hold him in the water then, couldn’t I?”
“Probably not. They have to swim and would get scared if you held them still. They aren’t like kittens or puppies.”
“But I would be gentle and wouldn’t let Willow or even Robbie hold him. Can’t I have a fish, Daddy? A red one like Uncle Dale’s?”
Daddy shook his head slowly. “Fish have to be fed, and their tanks have to be cleaned out just right or they will get sick. And we don’t have any place to keep a fish that wouldn’t be in danger of getting knocked over. No, Minnie, I’m sorry but I don’t think a real fish would be good. But--” He looked down at the sad face of his little girl. “Perhaps you can still have a fish.”
“A red one, Daddy? With two tails?”
“Two tails?”
“Yes! Uncle Dale’s fish has two tails.” Minnie looked up into her daddy’s face. “What kind of fish could I have? Would it have to live in water? Could I take it to show Grandma?”
“Hang on just a minute.” Daddy pulled his phone out and send a message on it. “This kind of fish I’m think about,” he said as he rested his phone on his knee, “is the kind of fish you could take to Grandma’s, you wouldn’t have to feed it or let it live in water. You could name it and--”
“Could I tell it stories, Daddy? Would it listen to me tell it stories?”
“Yes, Minnie, you could tell it stories.” Daddy’s phone buzzed and Daddy picked it up, looked at the screen and then typed something on it. He stood up. “All right, Minnie Joy, do you want to wait there while I make your fish, or do you want to come watch me?”
Minnie’s eyes grew wide. Daddy was going to make her a fish? “I want to watch!”
She scrambled to her feet and seized her daddy’s hand. Together they went up stairs to his office.
Daddy got out a nice, white sheet of paper. It wasn’t just one from the printer like Mommy sometimes gave Minnie and Ronnie to use. This was a from a package in Daddy’s desk. Then Daddy got out a black marker and a red one from his special set that he used for making pictures for people who wrote books.
Minnie’s eyes grew wider.
Daddy sat down at his desk. “Hmm. A red fish with two tails.” He looked at his phone again, and this time Minnie saw a picture of Uncle Dale’s fish.
Was Daddy going to make a fish like that? For her?
A few quick lines with the black marker, and then some quick but careful lines with the red and there it was! A red fish with two tails just like Uncle Dale’s! Only this one was for her! It didn’t have to live in the water! She didn’t have to feed it, and she could hold it!
“What do you think, Minnie?” Daddy held up the picture. “Do you think that would be a good fish to have?”
“Oh, yes, Daddy! Is he for me? For my very, very own? Can I name him?”
“Yes, Minnie, he’s yours. And I think he needs a name.” Daddy handed Minnie the picture.
For several seconds Minnie just gazed in wonder at the fish that was all hers. What would she name it? It had to be a good name. Her forehead wrinkled a little as she thought hard.
Daddy put his markers away. “Did you think of a name yet?”
Minnie nodded slowly, her eyes still on the picture. “I think his name should be Roses.”
“Roses?” Daddy blinked. “Why that name?”
“Because, he’s the same color of the roses you got Mommy and she loved them as much as I love my fish! Oh, thank you, Daddy!” She flung her arms around her daddy’s legs because she couldn’t reach any higher, and hugged him. “Thank you for making Roses for me. We’re going to be best of friends!”
And they were. Roses went everywhere with Minnie for several years. She told her secrets to Roses, and sang to him. She shared him with Willow, and carefully placed him on her dresser each night at bedtime. And even though the paper grew some was dirty and torn around the edges, Minnie still loved the fish. When she grew older, she tucked him into a safe place where he wouldn’t get lost and many, many years later, she found him again, and smiled at the memory of her Daddy making a special fish just for her because he loved her.
The End
