Dandelion Jam A gentle and snowy winter has passed, and with spring’s arrival in our small English town, Taissa finds herself yearning for green leaves and colourful blooms. From her third-floor window, she gazes out at the awakening city where lorries rumble, the market buzzes, and people shed their winter wear for brighter coats. Birds sing before alarms; spring brings new energy, and soon, summer will be even better. Taissa, long settled in her five-storey block, now lives with her granddaughter, Vera, a lively Year Four pupil whose parents—both doctors—left for a work contract in Africa, entrusting their daughter to her grandmother. “Gran, we’re giving you Vera to look after, just for a while,” her daughter had said. “She’ll be happier with you than traipsing across the world.” Taissa, now retired, was delighted for the companionship. Each day is filled with routine: shopping, chatting with her neighbours on the chilly bench outside—the ever-watchful Mrs Simmons from downstairs, always mysterious about her age, and the cheerful, well-read Mrs Valentine. Together, they swap news, share stories, and complain about health, their bench a hub of local gossip. Life continues: Taissa spoils Vera with treats for her good grades, welcomes her home from school, listens to her tales, and beams with pride at Vera’s dedication to dance lessons. One bright afternoon, as Taissa awaits Vera’s return, she’s joined by Mr Edward, a widower from next door, who talks about the daffodils and coltsfoot carpeting the lawns like tiny suns. Spring’s beauty is in full bloom, and with Vera’s lively mischief, their days are warm and busy. Edward and Taissa begin to meet regularly—reading the papers, walking in the park, discussing recipes, and sharing snippets of their lives. Edward’s own story is bittersweet: he raised his daughter, Anne, alone after losing his wife, and despite his efforts, Anne’s grown distant, raising a son on her own in another city. Unexpectedly, Anne arrives with austere intentions: she insists her father sell his beloved flat and move in with her for “company’s sake”. Edward resists, unwilling to leave his home and his quiet, independent life. Anne, noting his friendship with Taissa, confronts Taissa with suspicion, accusing her of ulterior motives regarding Edward’s property. The harsh words sting, but Anne soon leaves in anger, severing ties with her father. Taissa, embarrassed by the scene, grows distant from Edward—until one day, he waits for her outside, dandelions in hand, apologising for his daughter’s behaviour. He gifts her a wreath of dandelions and offers a jar of his homemade dandelion jam, extolling its health benefits and inviting her to try it in a salad. Together, they share tea with dandelion jam and laughter, and in the quiet evening, stroll to the park with a fresh issue of their favourite magazine. Sitting beneath their old lime tree, their conversation flows, and all worries melt away. For Taissa and Edward, the springtime brings sweet new beginnings—and the simple joys of dandelion jam. Thank you for reading, subscribing, and supporting my stories. Wishing you happiness in life!

Dandelion Jam

The snow finally melted away; this year, the frost hadnt been harshjust a gentle, snowy winter. Yet, as all winters do, it had overstayed its welcome, and the yearning for green leaves, vibrant colours, and the chance to shed heavy coats grew stronger by the day.

Spring arrived quietly in a small English town, a typical Midlands borough with rows of sturdy brick terraces and the hum of distant train tracks. Edith loved springshe always waited impatiently for natures awakening. Peering out of her third-floor window, she mused aloud to herself:

With these warm spring days, the towns come alive, like its just woken up from a long slumber. Even the double-decker buses rumble differently, and the market is bustling again. People striding about in their bright raincoats, the birds rousing us before the alarm ever would. Ah, spring is wonderfulbut summer will be better still

Edith had lived in her five-storey block for ages, and now shared her home with her granddaughter, Daisy, who was in Year Four at the local primary. Daisys parentsboth doctorshad left for a years contract in Botswana, and Daisy stayed behind with grandma.

Mum, were leaving Daisy in your careit makes no sense to bring her along. We trust you to look after your favourite granddaughter, Ediths daughter had said.

Of course Ill watch over her. Itll be much more lively for me in retirement. Off you go; Daisy and I will manage just fine, Edith replied.

Hooray, Granny! Well have the best time. Well go to the park all the time. Mum and Dad are always too busy for me, Daisy cheered.

After breakfasting Daisy and sending her off to school, Edith puttered about the flat, time slipping by unnoticed.

Ill pop to the shopsitll be quick. Daisy will be home before I know it, she thought, straightening her skirt and picking up her shopping bag.

She stopped at the entrance, where two neighbours were already perched on the bench, cushions tucked firmly beneath them as the seat was still cold. Mrs Simmons, an ageless widowmaybe seventy, maybe more, she never saidlived alone in a compact ground-floor flat. Then there was Mrs Valentine, seventy-five, lively and full-figured, the towns unofficial historian, always laughing and altogether the opposite of Mrs Simmons, who found fault with everything.

Just as the sun returned and snow faded, this bench was never empty. Mrs Simmons and Mrs Valentine were regulars, watching every passer-by, their eyes sharp enough to catch a wayward sparrow.

Edith would sometimes sit with them, mulling over the latest gossip, who was in the paper, which programme was on telly. Mrs Simmons would always take the opportunity to discuss her blood pressure.

Morning, ladies, Edith called, her face lighting up. On duty already?

Morning, Edith. Wouldnt miss it. Otherwise, theyll mark us absent, Mrs Simmons chuckled, clocking Ediths shopping bag. Heading for the shops?

Thats right. Need to get Daisy a sweet treat for her good marks, Edith said, not lingering.

The day rolled on as usualshe welcomed Daisy home, cooked for her, watched Daisy settle down to her homework, then watched a little telly herself.

Granny, Im off to dance! Daisy called.

She already had her backpack, phone in hand. Daisy had been dancing for six years, starring at every community event, and Edith was fiercely proud.

All right, Daisy, off you go, she said softly, seeing her out.

Edith sat outside on the bench, waiting for Daisys return from dance class.

You look lonely, said Mr George, the neighbour from the second floor, sitting down beside her.

Is it possible to feel lonely on a day like this? Edith replied. Spring is here, weathers lovely.

Absolutely. The sunshines warming up, birds are singing, everythings turning green, and the towns yellow with buttercups. Those little flowers look just like tiny suns. He smiled, and Edith agreed.

Just then, Daisy dashed up and flung her arms around Edith, shouting:

Woof! Woof!

You little rascal, you scared me half to death! Edith laughed breathlessly.

Goodness, dont start talking about death yet, George teased, giving her shoulder a friendly pat.

Come along, Daisy. I grated some carrots and sprinkled sugar on top, knowing youd be tired after all that dancing. Ive cooked your favourite fishcakes too, Edith said, her voice warm.

George stood to go along with them.

Why are you heading in so soon? Edith asked, surprised.

You made those fishcakes sound deliciousIve made myself hungry. Ill have a bite. We can meet on the bench or maybe go for a stroll later, George smiled.

No promises; theres always something to do. But well see

That evening, Edith did find herself back on the bench, bidding George goodnight, smiling quietly to herself before heading inside with Daisy, who giggled:

Granny, I think Mr George is sweet on you!

Oh, nonsense, Edith waved her off.

Ive seen the way he looks at you, Granny. If only Tom from the year above looked at me that way, all the girls at school would be envious! Daisy twinkled, rolling her eyes.

Sit yourself down, you observant thing. Well see about Tom, Edith smiled.

Again, Edith went out to the bench that evening, and found George waiting. Surprisingly, the regular ladies were missing.

Mrs Simmons and Mrs Valentine just left for supper, George told her brightly.

From then on, Edith and George met often, sometimes taking a stroll in the park across the road, reading the local Gazette, sharing recipes, reminiscing about film stars and trading stories.

Georges life hadnt been kind. He had a wife, a daughter, and grandson once. He lost his wife young, raised daughter Alice as best as he could, working two jobs so that Alice never lacked anything, even if time with her was shortleaving early, returning late.

Alice grew up, married, moved away, had a son. She visited a few times, then stopped altogether. Even during those rare visits, she was distant and cool. She split with her husband after fifteen years, raising her son alone.

Edith, Alice rangshes coming in two days. Cant imagine why, its been years, George confided, now on first-name terms and sharing everything.

Maybe she misses you. At our age, family matters more, Edith suggested.

Perhaps, but Im not sure

Alice arrived, unchangedstern and unsmiling, clearly with something planned.

Dad, Ive come about something. Lets sell your flat, and youll move in with us. Itll be much niceryou, me, and my boy together, she insisted, barely disguising the fact the decision was already made.

George felt unease climbing up inside him, unwilling to leave his home for the arms of a daughter who barely showed warmth. He politely refused, saying he preferred to live alone.

Not satisfied, Alice found out about Georges friendship with Edith and went straight to her kitchen. Accepting tea and biscuits, she began.

I hear you and my father are very close, Alice said. Would you help persuade him? Its important.

What exactly do you mean? Edith inquired.

Help me convince him to sell his flat. He doesnt need all that spacecant he think of others for once? she finished sharply.

Edith was taken aback by Alices bluntness and scheming, replying with a firm refusal. Alices face reddened with fury as she shrilled:

Oh, I see now! Maybe you want the flat yourselffor your granddaughter, crowning her with an inheritance. You cuddle up on benches, strolling about, babbling about dandelion benefits. Two old dandelionshow apt! Done the paperwork at the registry office yet? I warn you, you wont get away with itnothing will come of it, you old hag! she shrieked, slamming the door behind her.

Edith felt mortified, hoping the neighbours hadnt overheard. Soon, Alice was gone. Edith began avoiding George, ducking away if she glimpsed him, hurrying home.

And yet, life always has a way of sorting things out. One afternoon, Edith returned from the shop to find George outside with a fistful of dandelions, weaving a crown.

Edith, dont run off, he said softly. Sit a moment. Im sorry for everything Alice saidI know she visited, said terrible things. Weve talked, and Ill always help my grandson, but what she did that isnt right. She left, said she had no father anymore. I well George fell silent, then held out the half-made crown. For you. And Ive made dandelion jamso good for you, and delicious. You must try it, and the saladdandelions are brilliant in salad, he smiled.

So they tried the dandelion salad together, and tea with Georges homemade dandelion jamEdith was delighted. That evening, they strolled into the park again.

Ive got the latest issue of our favourite magazine, George grinned, lets read it together under the old lime tree by the bench.

Edith sat beside him and laughed; conversation flowed, and the two of them forgot about everything else. Life was good for themtogether.

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