| CULVER'S TREASURE |
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As Grandma Culver sat in her old, worn out
rocker, with a colorful blanket across her lap, she
smiled at all her grandchildren, watching them
absorb what she was telling them. “Now children,
if you’re ready, I’ll continue.” She told all of them,
and watched them nod their heads. “Very well.
Legend has it that this family you were born into
comes from a long line of witches, with special
powers. But…” She paused, held up her old,
wrinkled finger before she continued talking. “The
jewels that made us special, had the magical
powers, which were stolen, then hidden long ago
by a man named Samuel Peters. You see my
children, Samuel was afraid of the magic
bestowed upon our family. He was afraid and
jealous of what our ancestors were able to do.
One night, he broke into my great grandmothers
Dory’s house. Took the entire treasure chest,
then, selfishly hid it somewhere. It wasn’t long
after that, our family got word that Samuel hung
himself.” She paused again long enough to hear
the collected sighs of her grandchildren. “Now
mind you, the witches in our family, as they were
called back then, were soon singled out, then put
to death.”
“Why grandma Culver?” Eight-year-old Kimmy
asked.
“Because sweet Kimmy, back then if you were
different or had special powers, or stood out from
what was normal, the punishment back then was
death. No one believed as we do now, in magic.”
“So who killed them?” Kimmy asked sadly.
“The town folk. Of course, they waited for
darkness to fall. Then people in town would
sneak, like thieves in the night, find the so-called
witches, then, kill them. They left their dead
bodies in the street, in the middle of town, to set
an example of what would happen to others, with
magical powers.”
“Did they ever find the magic treasure Grandma
Culver?” Kimmy waited impatiently for the answer.
“No child. They never found it. So our family
remains normal, without the excitement of magic.”
“But it has to be around here somewhere,”
Kimmy blurted, looked at her grandma, then her
cousins, and waited.
“I believe that too, my child. But to find it would be
close to impossible.” Grandma Culver told her
gently.
“What powers did they have?” Kimmy wanted to
know.
“Many, my child. Too many to tell in this short
visit.” Grandma Culver sighed. “Now I must rest.
I’m a hundred years old, and two days, I need to
sleep.”
The children watched their grandmother Culver
close her eyes, and then they noticed a slight
smile playing on her lips, making her look
content, and Grandma Culver never awoke
again.
rocker, with a colorful blanket across her lap, she
smiled at all her grandchildren, watching them
absorb what she was telling them. “Now children,
if you’re ready, I’ll continue.” She told all of them,
and watched them nod their heads. “Very well.
Legend has it that this family you were born into
comes from a long line of witches, with special
powers. But…” She paused, held up her old,
wrinkled finger before she continued talking. “The
jewels that made us special, had the magical
powers, which were stolen, then hidden long ago
by a man named Samuel Peters. You see my
children, Samuel was afraid of the magic
bestowed upon our family. He was afraid and
jealous of what our ancestors were able to do.
One night, he broke into my great grandmothers
Dory’s house. Took the entire treasure chest,
then, selfishly hid it somewhere. It wasn’t long
after that, our family got word that Samuel hung
himself.” She paused again long enough to hear
the collected sighs of her grandchildren. “Now
mind you, the witches in our family, as they were
called back then, were soon singled out, then put
to death.”
“Why grandma Culver?” Eight-year-old Kimmy
asked.
“Because sweet Kimmy, back then if you were
different or had special powers, or stood out from
what was normal, the punishment back then was
death. No one believed as we do now, in magic.”
“So who killed them?” Kimmy asked sadly.
“The town folk. Of course, they waited for
darkness to fall. Then people in town would
sneak, like thieves in the night, find the so-called
witches, then, kill them. They left their dead
bodies in the street, in the middle of town, to set
an example of what would happen to others, with
magical powers.”
“Did they ever find the magic treasure Grandma
Culver?” Kimmy waited impatiently for the answer.
“No child. They never found it. So our family
remains normal, without the excitement of magic.”
“But it has to be around here somewhere,”
Kimmy blurted, looked at her grandma, then her
cousins, and waited.
“I believe that too, my child. But to find it would be
close to impossible.” Grandma Culver told her
gently.
“What powers did they have?” Kimmy wanted to
know.
“Many, my child. Too many to tell in this short
visit.” Grandma Culver sighed. “Now I must rest.
I’m a hundred years old, and two days, I need to
sleep.”
The children watched their grandmother Culver
close her eyes, and then they noticed a slight
smile playing on her lips, making her look
content, and Grandma Culver never awoke
again.