On the morning of the 8th day of the 5th month
the second daughter of the tribe of Eric, son of Dan
raced out to cuddle her ducks.
Much to the dismay of the daughter,
the feathered fowl were not in their newly built pen.
Frantic searching ensued
but alas, no ducks could be found.
The father of the tribe,
walked to and fro around the barn
and lo, he beheld some fuzzy feathers
far back in the weeds.
More searching produced more evidence,
and so it was,
the death of 2 ducks
by an unknown hand.
Many a tear was shed
over this calamity
for the daughter of Eric, son of Dan,
loved these ducks ever so much.
The mother of the tribe of Eric,
who disliked the ducks ever so much,
was only sad that her daughter was sad.
Late in the day, before the sun had set,
the father of the tribe brought his shovel
and prepared a resting place
for the ducks.
And the 2nd daughter of the tribe of Eric, son of Dan
was very sorrowful
and prepared a cross to be placed
at the resting place of her beloved ducks.
When the burial was complete
and the cross pushed into the cold ground,
she walked away, heavy of heart.
With tear filled eyes she says,
“Mom, I really did love those ducks!”
And at that moment, her mother did too.
If you missed the first installment of the ducks, click Here.