Lillypad was five years old today, and it was her birthday!

Her mum had made her a cake! It was a sponge cake, with buttercream and jam in the middle! She had wrapped it carefully in paper and put it carefully into her little pram, next to Frogsplash, her doll. She shared a name with her doll, they were sisters.

She was going to go down the stream today and have a picnic, all by herself. She was five now, and that meant she was much more grown-up than yesterday!

In the pram next to Frogsplash were some sandwiches, some little teacups, and a glass bottle full of lemonade. The lemonade was a special birthday treat, and she would have to ask one of the older kids to open it for her, and to break the bottle so she could keep the marble.

Her mum said she wasn’t supposed to go down the stream, but it was the best place to play! The frogs who lived in the shallow water fascinated her, with the way they hopped and jumped, only partly because she shared a name with them. If she didn’t break the bottle, then she could catch tadpoles in it and take them home.

Her dad had made her a little pond in the yard behind their house, out of an old sink and some pondweed, and she dutifully tipped the tadpoles into it every time she came back. Her mum said she couldn’t have them in the house!

It was going to be a good day.

Lillypad gently patted Frogsplash on the head, making sure she was safe and warm, all tucked into her blankets, and then they set off.

Frogsplash was her best doll, and had been a present for her last birthday! That was forever ago, and as far as she was concerned, they had been together forever. The doll had long straight hair and blue eyes that closed when you lay her down, as if she was sleeping. She had three whole outfits, and their mum had made a brand new one for her birthday this year. She was dressed in it now, a dress of blue silk, with little white bloomers underneath. She had her hair in ribbons, and she was quite the most beautiful thing in the world.

Lillypad was very fond of her.

It was a short walk across the meadow, to the stream on the edge of their village, and the air was hazy in the summer sun, the breeze blowing gently through her hair.

There was a line of trees between the meadow and the stream, but the other side of the brook had been recently cleared, making it a warm and bright place to play, out of the sight of the adults.

All the local kids went there to paddle and swim, especially in the summer, and they looked out for each other.

The grass in the meadow came up past her shoulders, but many others had carved out a path, and it wasn’t too difficult to push her little pram through, even if she did have to lift it up occasionally to get it over bumps. (That was cheating, real prams were heavy and you couldn’t lift them! But nobody would know except her.)

Frogsplash wouldn’t tell, she was the best.

As she pushed the pram through the grass, she thought about her name. It was very long and her mum had made her memorise it, repeating it over and over until she could say it by heart. It was, she took a deep breath, “I crouch to see the frog atop the Lilly-pad, but with a splash, they are gone.”

Her mum called her Lillypad, but she was allowed to change that if she wanted. Was expected to change it, now that she was five!

She was all grown up now, much older than she had been a year ago, and the thought made her a little sad. She wasn't sure she wanted a new name.

Lift the pram over another hump in the grass, she took a moment to make sure that everything was in place, and that Frogsplash was still comfortable. Yep, all good!

She was almost to the stream now, the tree line at the edge of the flower-filled meadow approaching. She could hear laughter through the trees, and she stopped to consider if she wanted to go down there now, or if she wanted to sit in the tall grass and eat her sandwiches first.

She stood for a moment, squinting her eyes at the sky and thinking. She watched the birds overhead, circling and calling. Her dad said the birds were called swallows, and if she looked real hard, then she could see their forked tails.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She looked down again, a butterfly had landed on the hood of her pram, and she hesitated, suddenly afraid to move.

She had caught a butterfly once, when she was very little, and held it in her hand. When she had gone to let it go it had been still, the beautiful wings crumpled into powder. She had never told anyone, washing her hands in the stream and silently heading home.

She had told Frogsplash though, and that night she had cried into the doll's red flannel nightdress.

The butterfly on her pram took off again, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She would sit in the grass and eat her sandwiches and cake, and then the boys wouldn’t steal it off her in return for the marble. A nod, and she looked around, at the deer trails through the tall grass.

A few minutes later she was hidden in her own private alcove. She had burrowed into the grass, pulling the pram behind her and flattened herself a little spot, a bit like a dog preparing for sleep. She had made Frogsplash a little chair out of folded grass and sat her in it like a queen. For herself, she had spread the blanket down and arranged the little cups on top of it. She didn’t have anything to drink, she couldn’t open the bottle on her own, but she could pretend.

The sandwiches were made of brown bread, thickly buttered and filled with watercress. Watercress was one of the main crops of the village, and the adults sold it in the nearby city. It didn’t last very long, so they had to transport it in big baskets every morning, and they came back at night with them empty. She sometimes sat down near the big troughs where they grew it and watched the grownups work, but they always shooed her away before too long.

Happily, she bit into the sandwich. The cress was fresh and crunchy and a little spicy. She wished she had a drink to go with it, but soon! Around her the grass swayed in the wind, the insects buzzed and the butterflies flit about, playing with each other in the air.

It was warm, but she was cooled by the same breeze which rustled through the grass. This was her own private little space, and for the moment she owned it completely, a god in her own domain.

Humming happily to herself, she finished her sandwich and lay in the sun, enjoying the moment. But, time was wasting! She rolled to her feet and dusted her hands off on her skirt, packing everything back up into the little pram. She shook out the dried grass and seeds from the blanket and tucked it around Frogsplash, so she wouldn’t get cold.

She saved the cake, for now, hiding it in the head of the pram, behind the little pillow that the doll rested against. She would eat it later with the lemonade, down by the stream.

The blanket was pretty, and she admired it as she tucked it into the edges of the pram. It was made of old clothes and bits of cloth, all sewn together into one big blanket, and her mum said it was what she had wrapped her in after she was born.

The colours were pretty, and she liked that. She had a deep, heartfelt respect for the history of it, but the colours were the best bit. Reds and blues and oranges and greens, colours she never saw on any other fabric.

Job done and everything settled into place, she fluffed up the grass where she had been sitting and set off back towards the stream.

The boys were there again, and they laughed as they saw her. They were half-dressed, shirtless and damp from paddling in the stream. It looked like they’d been trying to build a dam out of stones, but it had overflowed the banks and they’d kicked it apart, leaving only mud and scattered debris behind for their trouble.

Wordlessly she pulled the bottle out of the pram and handed it to the oldest boy. His name was Cinderash, and he was almost ten! She was a little shy of him, he was so tall! But he was always nice to her, and he was good at opening bottles.

“For me?” he questioned with a smile, she knew he was joking, but shook her head violently.

“No, open it, please!”

He laughed and carefully pressed his fingers into the top, the bottle opening with a hiss. He smiled and reached over her head with it, tucking it into the pram. “Don’t drop it now, bring it back and I’ll get you the marble out.”

She nodded happily and, checking the bottle was secured in place by the blanket, trundled off to find a place to consume the rest of her birthday feast.

She didn’t go back to the boys, instead choosing to fill the bottle with tadpoles. If they broken it, then the top would be sharp and she might cut herself, so she kept it intact for now. Maybe dad would get it out for her tonight when he came back from the City with the empty crates.

Carefully setting the bottle of tadpoles upright, she stopped to watch the construction work in the field across the brook. They were digging a new channel towards the city, so that they could get the cress and stuff there faster. The workers at the cress beds had bought a boat, and they’d been talking about getting some new horses to pull it, though it wouldn’t be done for ages yet.

The boat was very big! She had gone to see it with her dad a few weeks back, and they had lifted her up onto the deck, so she could see out. It was very smart! She looked forward to seeing it in the water, although she couldn't imagine how it would look when it was all finished.

They all seemed pretty excited about it, and as she watched the workers dig, she wondered if the boys would paddle over there when it was done, or if it would be too deep for that. The diggers would reach the village soon, and they might even build a new inn!

Starting back towards home, the late afternoon sun was no longer as scorching as it had been earlier. Her food and drink were all gone and the pram was packed neatly away.

Lillypad looked down at Frogsplash in her blue silk dress, and the tadpoles circling in the bottom of the lemonade bottle.

It had been a good birthday.