Poor Mountain Sister was sitting outside on the porch when she saw a bush of wild roses beside the fence. They looked so beautiful.
“I want to give Poor Mountain Mother some roses for Mother’s Day,” said Poor Mountain Sister to herself.
Poor Mountain Sister got down from the porch and went over to the fence to see the wild roses. She knelt down and put her nose right up to them. They smelled heavenly. She knew that Poor Mountain Mother would just love them.
Poor Mountain Sister ran inside the house as quickly as could. She carefully got a pair of scissors out of the junk drawer in the kitchen. She carried them very carefully outside. She did not run over to the rose bush, instead, she walked. She was very careful not to injure herself.
Poor Mountain Sister kneeled down in front of the rose bush. She brought the scissors up to snip off one of the roses but she stopped partway.
“These roses are just so beautiful,” said Poor Mountain Sister to herself. “I can’t cut them. I just can’t do it.”
Poor Mountain Sister took the scissors into the house and put them back where she got them. She just happened to glance over at the door of the fridge. She saw a lot of drawings that she had made for Poor Mountain Mother.
“That is how I can still give Poor Mountain Mother some roses for Mother’s Day,” said Poor Mountain Sister.
Poor Mountain Sister went up to her bedroom and got her sketch pad and pencils. She took them outside with her. She sat right down on the grass in front of the rosebush and sketched the roses. She took her time and she put in as much effort as she could to draw every detail of the wild roses.
Poor Mountain Sister finished the sketch. She was very pleased with how it turned out. She took the sketch book up to her bedroom. Poor Mountain Sister got out her box of pencil crayons and coloured her sketch.
Once it was finished Poor Mountain Sister put the sketch under her bed. She didn’t want Poor Mountain Mother to see it until Mother’s Day which was two days away.
After supper that night, there was a knock at Poor Mountain Sister’s bedroom door.
“Mother’s Day is in two days,” said Poor Mountain Brother, when Poor Mountain Sister told him to come into her room.
“Yes I know,” said Poor Mountain Sister, smiling.
“I take it by that smile on your face that you already have something for Poor Mountain Mother,” said Poor Mountain Brother.
Poor Mountain Sister proudly showed her brother her artwork. He was very impressed.
“Wow!” Poor Mountain Brother exclaimed. “That is really nice.”
“Thank you,” said Poor Mountain Sister.
“You know what it needs,” said Poor Mountain Brother. “It needs a really nice picture frame.”
“Yes,” said Poor Mountain Sister. “That would be perfect.”
“I will build one for it,” said Poor Mountain Brother, who was learning how to use Poor Mountain Father’s power tools, with his supervision, of course.
The next night Poor Mountain Brother brought a picture frame that he had just finished making, up to Poor Mountain Sister’s room. The two children put the sketch inside the frame.
“That looks awesome!” they both exclaimed, looking at their finished handiwork.
The two Poor Mountain children were so excited that they could barely sleep that night. The next morning, they both wrapped up the picture frame and then took it into the kitchen where Poor Mountain Mother was drinking a cup of tea.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” the two children said happily, placing the gift on the table.
Poor Mountain Mother opened up the gift and when she realized the work the two children had put into it, tears poured down her face.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Poor Mountain Father, coming into the kitchen. “What is going on?”
“Look what these two children made for me for Mother’s Day,” sobbed Poor Mountain Mother.
Poor Mountain Father was very impressed at what the two children did. He went right away and got his hammer and he hung the picture frame proudly on the kitchen wall.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” said Poor Mountain Father, when he was finished hanging up the picture frame.
Poor Mountain Father handed Poor Mountain Mother a dozen roses.
Moral of this Story: