A Grave Too Small

Coming out of his reverie Olav, with tears in his eyes finally went down the steps to look at his poor misshapen daughter sprawled in a heap at the foot of the steps.

He went to the shed and picked up his shovel, paced back and forth in front of the house unmindful of the snow that was falling, covering him and the little house. Finally he went to the water's edge and looked at the river, but there was no comfort there either. At last he went to the small apple tree he planted that fall and ...