writing-prompt-s:

Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.

Farmer Brown talks as he works. This has always been known. When he is feeding the chickens, he wishes them good morning. When he is plowing the field, he thanks the soil for its service in providing his family food. So when he comes to the decision to build a temple, he speaks.

“I heard about them temples out West. The ones where people sometimes see gods, and they help humans. Well, I figure my family could use a little help. Not sure what god might make a home here-“ He sits back, wiping sweat from his brow. “-but it’d sure be nice if you were kind. My sweet little Jamie needs kindness. After Marsha passed… she’s been so lonely.”

Farmer Brown stands up, a small but bright temple before him. “Oh! Before I forget.” He places a bowl of oatmeal in the spot he cleared for offerings. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

He doesn’t look back once as he walks home.

The next morning, Farmer Brown wakes up to the sound of barking.

“Look Papa!” Jamie cries, crutches tossed to the side and a joyful smile on her face. “A puppy!”

Sure enough, a dog is happily squirming in Jamie’s lap. Farmer Brown immediately picks up the dog, putting it down a few feet away.

“Careful, Jamie! You don’t know where that thing came from. It could have fleas. Or worse!”

Jamie frowns and points out the nearest window. “She came from over there.”

Farmer Brown looks in the direction Jamie pointed. He can see the edge of the forest and can just barely make out the small temple he’d built only the day before. He looks down at the puppy, considering.

Jamie continues to chatter, unaware, or perhaps too excited to care, of her father deeply thinking. “And look, Papa. Her fur is soft and clean. She looks like she came straight out of a pet store! …can we keep her?”

Farmer Brown sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I suppose. But you gotta wash her first. Just in case. Think you can handle that?” He doesn’t even look at her crutches, only waits for her response.

Jamie’s eyes light up. “Of course! Of course! Thank you so much!” She squeals.

As soon as she stands up, the puppy perks her ears and follows Jamie, tail wagging the whole time.

Farmer Brown watches in wonder as they disappear into the bathroom: he can’t remember the last time he saw Jamie that happy. Soon, however, his brain is reminded of a thought he’d entertained several minutes earlier.

He takes his time walking to the temple; there’s no rush. When gets there, the bowl from yesterday is in the exact same place, but it’s been scraped clean of oatmeal. He picks up the bowl and leaves a pink carnation, one of Marsha’s favorite flowers, he remembers absently.

He ignores the skeptical voice in his mind and bows slightly. “Thank you.”

Then he turns around, and Farmer Brown walks home.

From behind a tree, a woman watches. She does not look godly, but she is definitely not human, not anymore. When Farmer Brown is far enough out of sight, she picks up the carnation from the temple, smiling the kind of smile one only exhibits when receiving a gift they will deeply cherish. She looks back up, staring at the house where Farmer Brown and Jamie live, now with the inclusion of an excited puppy, and the reintroduction of a beautiful smile. Her eyes are full of love.