The Pity of Dell-Meadow
As I entered the gleaming golden gates of Dell-Meadow Creek, I saw the radiating field of peonies to the left of the town square. Enormous mountains were shrouded by a cloak of mist, far behind the sugar pine and white fir trees that stood in the backyard of the village. I saw tiny colorful cottages in a circle almost so close to one another they looked connected. The heart of the province was the town square, which held the pride that the village carried for centuries. When someone saw the square I felt proud to say “ Yes, this is my town.” The square was made of old, cracked, stone that wasn’t the slightest bit morbid. The fountain held the town together, it didn’t look a day old and seemed to have the glow that could only be found in a storybook. In the settlement of Dell-Meadow, there was nothing to be of harm, no pollution, no war, only peace and harmony for all. The people in Dell-Meadow were almost as picturesque as the town itself. I saw the citizens talking to one another with a glimmer of serenity in their eyes and only speaking in the kindest of manner to everyone. Every Sunday afternoon, I saw the children playing by the peonies and braiding the magnificent pink flowers into one another’s hair. While the children played their parents sat at the coffee shop talking about things that have started to bring pleasure to them.
The thought of living in a town so lovely and peaceful may seem perfect, but in time the people of Dell-Meadow began to realize how boring it was to live in such peace. Nothing ever happened, their happiness was mundane. All the people began to realize this and wished for something to happen. Something out of the ordinary. Of course, nothing did, and their wishing always brought them farther into sadness. But, the happiness of the town returned, and the people of Dell-Meadow carried on with their dull lives.
Dell-Meadow was an unseen village, what goes on there stays there. Not many entered, and even fewer left. The town was a plea for help.
In time, some travelers from a big city came to the tiny town of Dell-Meadow. They were astounded by the beauty that it had to offer. So in awe, they decided to stay and help with the town. By this the folk of Dell-Meadow were delighted, thinking that these explorers may help make their home a lively place.
The travelers thought of how serene and enchanting the town was and how every town should be just like this one.
From weeks to months the citizens of Dell-Meadow brought the newcomers into their lives, only thinking about how the town will be wonderful at last. The newcomers still thought otherwise about the town, thinking about how ideal the town was.
Months turned into years and the townsfolk started to lose hope of the travelers being any more than people wanting a “perfect” life.
As the town started going back to normal, the explorers started seeing its true colors, soon it became tiresome and dull to live in. They missed the city they came from but were too good for people to leave this town in the dust.
Just as the people’s lives got duller, the travelers left to go to the city. As they left the citizens of Dell-Meadow began to give up. Their sorrows stayed but got better every day that the explorers were gone, only leaving behind a minor scar.
Two months later on the first Sunday of the month, there was a sound, a sound that the people of Dell-Meadow had never heard. It was horrific, and a smell wafted through the air, a smell incapable of describing. It was dirty, artificial. The smell was NOT the happiness the town had gained.
Everyone rushed into their cottages in hope of safety, as quickly as possible. I could hear the children crying and the parents rushing into their houses about to scream.
The noises went on for twelve full days. Everyone was too terrified to sleep. I couldn’t even hear my siblings talk when they were one foot away from me.
On the thirteenth day, the beeping, screeching, and loud noises of who knows what stopped. After two hours the people of Dell-Meadow finally decided it was time to leave their cottages and see what had happened to their town.
Dell-Meadow was no longer the place of happiness and serenity. The sky was a dark grey, the color was presented by an old, grey, slate statue. The peonies were withered, with absolutely no emotion to radiate out. The sugar pine and white fir trees were gone! Only huge machines the size of four houses stacked together remained in the trees’ places. The fountain was nothing, a pile of rubble and dust. The mountains had buildings as tall as the sky to stand next to. The smell in the air was almost as bitter as the town.
The visitors looked at the perplexed townspeople with a smile and said,“I’m sorry but all of us together needed your town to be rid of its miserable elements so we brought in some materials and began working.”
“You should be sorry.” The oldest, wisest member of the people cried,“ This is our home, our home is how we want it, and this, this is NOT our home. Yes, at times our home seemed dull, but at times it was the best place to be. You ruined it.”
“I clearly understand,” the adventurer said with pity in his voice. “But what is done can’t be changed.” And the adventurers left the little town of Dell-Meadow.
In time, nothing got better for the people of Dell-Meadow. They soon had to sit in their houses only hoping, hoping for a change.
Soon, we began to realize this is our fault, we wished this upon ourselves.
Now we know to be careful what you wish for.