The Prodigal Brother

"The Prodigal Brother" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a poignant short story that explores themes of family, forgiveness, and redemption. It follows the tale of a troubled young man who returns home after years of estrangement and reckless behavior. His homecoming forces his family to confront deep-seated emotions and unresolved conflicts. Through a blend of heartwarming and heart-wrenching moments, Montgomery delves into the complexities of sibling relationships and the possibility of reconciliation, showcasing her trademark style of rich character development and the beauty of human connection.

• Short story

								
Miss Hannah was cutting asters in her garden. It was a very small
garden, for nothing would grow beyond the shelter of the little, grey,
low-eaved house which alone kept the northeast winds from blighting
everything with salt spray; but small as it was, it was a miracle of
blossoms and a marvel of neatness. The trim brown paths were swept
clean of every leaf or fallen petal, each of the little square beds
had its border of big white quahog clamshells, and not even a
sweet-pea vine would have dared to straggle from its appointed course
under Miss Hannah's eye.

Miss Hannah had always lived in the little grey house down by the
shore, so far away from all the other houses in Prospect and so shut
away from them by a circle of hills that it had a seeming isolation.
Not another house could Miss Hannah see from her own doorstone; she
often declared she could not have borne it if it had not been for the
lighthouse beacon at night flaming over the northwest hill behind the
house like a great unwinking, friendly star that never failed even on
the darkest night. Behind the house a little tongue of the St.
Lawrence gulf ran up between the headlands until the wavelets of its
tip almost lapped against Miss Hannah's kitchen doorstep. Beyond, to
the north, was the great crescent of the gulf, whose murmur had been
Miss Hannah's lullaby all her life. When people wondered to her how
she could endure living in such a lonely place, she retorted that the
loneliness was what she loved it for, and that the lighthouse star and
the far-away call of the gulf had always been company enough for her
and always would be ... until Ralph came back. When Ralph came home,
of course, he might like a livelier place and they might move to town
or up-country as he wished.

"Of course," said Miss Hannah with a proud smile, "a rich man mightn't
fancy living away down here in a little grey house by the shore. He'll
be for building me a mansion, I expect, and I'd like it fine. But
until he comes I must be contented with things as they are."

People always smiled to each other when Miss Hannah talked like this.
But they took care not to let her see the smile.

Miss Hannah snipped her white and purple asters off ungrudgingly and
sang, as she snipped, an old-fashioned song she had learned long ago
in her youth. The day was one of October's rarest, and Miss Hannah
loved fine days. The air was clear as golden-hued crystal, and all the
slopes around her were mellow and hazy in the autumn sunshine. She
knew that beyond those sunny slopes were woods glorying in crimson and
gold, and she would have the delight of a walk through them later on
when she went to carry the asters to sick Millie Starr at the Bridge.
Flowers were all Miss Hannah had to give, for she was very poor, but
she gave them with a great wealth of friendliness and goodwill.

Presently a wagon drove down her lane and pulled up outside of her
white garden paling. Jacob Delancey was in it, with a pretty young
niece of his who was a visitor from the city, and Miss Hannah, her
sheaf of asters in her arms, went over to the paling with a sparkle of
interest in her faded blue eyes. She had heard a great deal of the
beauty of this strange girl. Prospect people had been talking of
nothing else for a week, and Miss Hannah was filled with a harmless
curiosity concerning her. She always liked to look at pretty people,
she said; they did her as much good as her flowers.

"Good afternoon, Miss Hannah," said Jacob Delancey. "Busy with your
flowers, as usual, I see."

"Oh, yes," said Miss Hannah, managing to stare with unobtrusive
delight at the girl while she talked. "The frost will soon be coming
now, you know; so I want to live among them as much as I can while
they're here."

"That's right," assented Jacob, who made a profession of cordial
agreement with everybody and would have said the same words in the
same tone had Miss Hannah announced a predilection for living in the
cellar. "Well, Miss Hannah, it's flowers I'm after myself just now.
We're having a bit of a party at our house tonight, for the young
folks, and my wife told me to call and ask you if you could let us
have a few for decoration."

"Of course," said Miss Hannah, "you can have these. I meant them for
Millie, but I can cut the west bed for her."

She opened the gate and carried the asters over to the buggy. Miss
Delancey took them with a smile that made Miss Hannah remember the
date forever.

"Lovely day," commented Jacob genially.

"Yes," said Miss Hannah dreamily. "It reminds me of the day Ralph went
away twenty years ago. It doesn't seem so long. Don't you think he'll
be coming back soon, Jacob?"

"Oh, sure," said Jacob, who thought the very opposite.

"I have a feeling that he's coming very soon," said Miss Hannah
brightly. "It will be a great day for me, won't it, Jacob? I've been
poor all my life, but when Ralph comes back everything will be so
different. He will be a rich man and he will give me everything I've
always wanted. He said he would. A fine house and a carriage and a
silk dress. Oh, and we will travel and see the world. You don't know
how I look forward to it all. I've got it all planned out, all I'm
going to do and have. And I believe he will be here very soon. A man
ought to be able to make a fortune in twenty years, don't you think,
Jacob?"

"Oh, sure," said Jacob. But he said it a little uncomfortably. He did
not like the job of throwing cold water, but it seemed to him that he
ought not to encourage Miss Hannah's hopes. "Of course, you shouldn't
think too much about it, Miss Hannah. He mightn't ever come back, or
he might be poor."

"How can you say such things, Jacob?" interrupted Miss Hannah
indignantly, with a little crimson spot flaming out in each of her
pale cheeks. "You know quite well he will come back. I'm as sure of it
as that I'm standing here. And he will be rich, too. People are always
trying to hint just as you've done to me, but I don't mind them. I
know."

She turned and went back into her garden with her head held high. But
her sudden anger floated away in a whiff of sweet-pea perfume that
struck her in the face; she waved her hand in farewell to her callers
and watched the buggy down the lane with a smile.

"Of course, Jacob doesn't know, and I shouldn't have snapped him up so
quick. It'll be my turn to crow when Ralph does come. My, but isn't
that girl pretty. I feel as if I'd been looking at some lovely
picture. It just makes a good day of this. Something pleasant happens
to me most every day and that girl is today's pleasant thing. I just
feel real happy and thankful that there are such beautiful creatures
in the world and that we can look at them."

"Well, of all the queer delusions!" Jacob Delancey was ejaculating as
he and his niece drove down the lane.

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