(Just a little twist on the old flower story)
The gunfire ringing through the small village was growing louder and louder, and Elizabeth Rollins knew it was only a matter of time before the foreign invaders reached the small house where her parents and her family dwelled. It was set back enough in the woods that she hoped it would be passed by, but nonetheless, her parents ran about, gathering their treasures.
“Elizabeth, go to my garden. Immediately!” her mother cried, trying to get together the few pieces of silver the family owned.
“Not yet, Mother!” Elizabeth cried, aghast. Her husband was to return shortly with their young daught