Flowers in the Snow Read Online Free PDF

pleased her mother would be when the news got back to her.
    His eyes turned toward Beatrice, and she could see they were nearly swollen shut. With all the energy he had left, he waved her off and grunted something that sounded like, “Go on.”
    “I brought you a soda. It’s ice cold. And here’s a towel. I can wipe some of the blood away for you,” Beatrice offered, trying to sound comforting and unafraid.
    He shook his head, but Beatrice heard the words of Jesus at the end of the Good Samaritan story flowing through her: “Go and do likewise.”
    She knelt beside the man and began using the towel to put pressure on the cut on his head. The blood was coming fast but the towel seemed to help. She imagined herself as the Samaritan, stopping to help. Concern for another human, even a stranger or an enemy, was the message that had touched her heart. She had sat there in church and realized that people never noticed her. Perhaps if she were known for something like this act of genuine compassion, people would start to pay attention.  “Drink this,” she insisted, shoving the glass soda bottle she’d opened into his hand. “If you can walk I’ll help you get to Dr. Sherry’s office. He’ll mend you up.”
    “No, he won’t,” the man muttered. “Are you blind or something?”
    “I ain’t blind. You might be if you don’t get your eyes fixed up,” she shot back. “They look like they’re about to swell shut. You need some tending to.”
    “Can’t you see the color of my skin? Your doctor won’t do a thing for me. I need to get back to my people.” The more he spoke the more blood seemed to pour from the cut on his head.
    “I don’t see why you colored folk don’t want to be around us white folk. You won’t go in our restaurants, and you won’t see our doctors,” Beatrice huffed, exasperated by his stubbornness. She thought being selfless would be easier, but this man was making it impossible. Didn’t he know this was a nice thing she was doing?
    Though it seemed completely out of place, the man laughed. Or at least he tried to. It was a low chuckle punctuated by pain, which stopped his laughter abruptly. “Child, oh what it must be like to be so innocent. You need to go on and get out of here.” Blood bubbled out of his mouth as he spoke, and Beatrice felt the urgency of the situation growing. If people knew she was this close, this involved, and then the man died right here, she’d be in big trouble.
    “I can’t just leave you here. I don’t know if colored folks know about the Bible or anything, but it tells us to help people. I could tell you the story of the Good Samaritan, and then you’d understand better.”
    “We know the Bible,” he barked back, and Beatrice swallowed hard, scared by the roughness of his voice.
    “So then you know I should help you. You know what compassion is, right? My daddy says you people don’t have the same kinds of brains as we do, so it’s okay if you don’t know the Word.” Beatrice tried to keep her voice slow and gentle so he could understand the best he could.
    “Child, go. It ain’t your fault you don’t know any better, but people are coming over here. You need to go on.”
    “I’m gonna hold this towel on your head until someone fetches the doctor. I don’t care if you don’t wanna see a white doctor.” Whatever the man’s holdup was about white people, he’d have to put it aside she decided.
    “Beatrice,” a familiar and angry voice rang out from behind her. “What the hell are you doing?” Though she couldn’t see his face behind his white hood, she knew it was her daddy.
    “Daddy, this man fell down. We need to fetch the doctor.” She’d forgotten something important her daddy had always told her about when he was in his Klan robe. Even if she knew it was him, she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. The group was very important and for some reason they couldn’t let anyone knowing who they were. She remembered instantly, as