Stories in the Palm

Eleanor sat on her back porch, the morning sun warming her hands as she traced the lines on her **palm**. Seventy-eight years of life etched there, she thought, though the palm reader at the county fair in 1962 had promised her a long life full of surprises. She'd been twenty then, more interested in the handsome boy working the carousel than in fortune-telling.

"Grandma? Whatcha doing?" Seven-year-old Leo bounced onto the swing beside her, his baseball cap askew.

"Just thinking, sweet pea. Your grandfather used to say these lines on our hands were like rivers—always flowing somewhere new."

Leo pulled something from his pocket: a tarnished silver pocket watch. "Look what I found! It says '1924' on the back."

Eleanor's breath caught. "That was your great-grandfather's. He carried that through the Great Depression." She opened it carefully. The hands still moved. "He'd be thrilled to know you found it."

"Was he a **spy**?" Leo asked, eyes wide. "Timmy says his grandpa was a spy in the war."

Eleanor laughed, a sound like wind chimes. "Oh, he saw plenty. Worked at the plant that made bombers. But his real mission?" She pointed to the old oak tree where Leo and his cousins played. "See where you kids play **baseball**? Every Saturday at three, he'd stop working on his car to watch. Said he was 'inspecting the troops.'"

Leo studied the watch. "So he was watching us?"

"In the best way." Eleanor squeezed his hand. "Love is being someone's witness, Leo. Your great-grandfather knew that." She paused, watching a cardinal land on the feeder. "You know what's funny? I was twelve when I first saw him—sitting right here, watching his own children play. He had the same watch."

"Did he give it to you?"

"When I was your age. Said, 'Time belongs to those who spend it wisely on others.'" Eleanor closed the watch and placed it in Leo's palm. "Your turn now."

He stared at it solemnly, then grinned. "Can we play catch?"

"In a bit, sweet pea. First, let me tell you about the summer your grandfather tried to teach me **baseball**..."