Esmeralda Grunch and the Red Tulip
by Debbie Manber Kupfer
Esmeralda
Grunch opened her eyes and stretched. She reached up and tugged apart
the crimson petals above her head and gazed out at the sunrise.
“Ouch,”
screeched the Tulip, “what did you have to do that for? I’ll open up in
a little if you just wait for the sun to come out.”
But
Esmerelda couldn’t wait. She pushed her way up through the deep red
petals and out into the cool morning air. She breathed deeply and let
the first rays of the sun touch her tiny gossamer wings. She flew down
to the pond, where she gazed at her reflection, satisfied. She was a
very fetching flower sprite even if she said so herself, with deep red
hair that matched her tulip and a scarlet dress that sparkled in the
early morning rays.
The Tulip rearranged its petals and
settled down for the day, grumbling to itself. It knew it was supposed
to be an honor to be chosen by a flower sprite, but still she could be a
bit more grateful; after all the Tulip was unique - she was the only
red Tulip in the flower patch.
She gazed haughtily at the
other flowers. Such vulgar shades. Only she was the purest red. Her bulb
had been a ruby set in the soil, a promise of a fragrant future. Yes,
the garden was truly hers, despite what Esmeralda believed.
But
still as the day progressed the Tulip became restless. Where was the
sprite? She would need to close her petals soon and rest for the night.
There in the distance, a fluttering of wings, and Esmeralda landed with
the plop in the middle of the Tulip.
“Where have you been?”
scolded the Tulip, but Esmeralda didn’t answer. She was already fast
asleep. The Tulip sighed as she enfolded Esmeralda in her petals and
joined her in peaceful slumber.
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