Cookie Jar (Short Story by Esha Babla)

No one liked the grumpy old lady next door. There was always a frown on her very wrinkled face and her eyebrows would draw together when someone spoke to her. But each line on her forehead showed hardship and had a story to tell. But who would take the dare to go talk to this grumbly and crabby old lady? The adults had tried, but she would always shoo them away as if they were children. They kept away from her and also told their kids to stay away from her.

The old lady had the same routine every day. She would step out in the early mornings to water her garden and dry her clothes. The children would stop and stare as they skipped down the road towards their school. There was something very fascinating about her, which drew the children as she went about doing her chores. They even had her routine down to pat: she would fill her watering tool, and would walk from left to right as she watered her plants. They also knew what colour cloth pins were meant for what type of clothes.

They would try to catch her eye, something she would vehemently avoid. They would try to greet her, but she would hurry back inside. As children always know, they knew they wanted to get her to smile.

And so, they came up with a plan. The next morning, they headed out early. She wasn’t outside yet, her door firmly locked. The children picked up the newspaper lying at the main gate. One of them picked it up and headed inside. Just as he was dropping the newspaper at the door, it opened and out stepped the old lady. Taken aback, she froze. The child smiled widely at her as he ran back to his friends. They all started running down the road, only to glance back and greet her with a loud hello!

This became a routine which continued for weeks, each time with the old lady freezing as the children greeted her. There never was a reply, but they never stopped. 

A month passed, when one morning the old lady opened the door to see only 2 of the children. They stopped to greet her, but this time told her about how the rest of them were down with chicken pox. The old lady doesn’t react as the children wave goodbye. But the next morning, when the children stop to drop the newspaper at her main door, they notice something already lying there.

Curious, they head closer, only to see that it was a cookie jar. Next to it was a note that asked them to take one for their sick friends. And just like that, from that day onwards, the children always found a cookie jar at her door as they all went about following their routines.