She always sat on the same bench.

Quietly observing with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

Maria’s family had only lived in this town a few months and her daughter, Emily, was absolutely ecstatic when they had come across this park on an afternoon walk a couple weeks ago. Since then, they had come here just about every other day on their walk home from Emily’s school.

It was a lovely park, really. But there was something that never sat quite right with her. And being honest, she could never quite put her finger on why...

It was the elderly woman, who sat on the bench in the shade under the oak tree just off the side of the park.

Originally, Maria had suspected that she had grandchildren she brought there. But after a while, that didn’t seem to be the case, as she never saw any of the children in the park acknowledge her.

Eventually, one of the other mothers she had grown close to explained that her name was Delilah. And she had been around since before most people who lived here could remember.

And so long as the weather permitted it, she would be sat on that bench from the time school let out, until it was time to retire for supper.

Quietly looking on with the same serene look on her face.

Essentially, what Maria had been told was that she, Delilah, was harmless.

Albeit a little odd—

But nothing to be concerned about.

Delilah looked to be a well kept lady in her mid to late 80’s.

Her short white hair always styled neatly atop her head.

She reminded Maria of the way teachers from the 60’s were portrayed in movies.

Her clothes, while perhaps a little dated; were clean, pressed neatly, and always well coordinated. Paired with minimal jewelry and purse just big enough for the essentials.

Another thing though, that she found curious about Delilah; was that regardless of what she was wearing, or what the temperature was outside. She always wore what looked to be a bright red silk scarflette on her wrist.

“Get ready mom! I’m gonna kick the ball super hard!”

Emily called out from her place about 10 feet away.

“Oh I’m ready for it!”

Maria hollered back, pulling herself out of her thoughts.

“Ok! Here I go!”

As the last word came out of Emily’s mouth, she pulled her leg back and booted the ball with all of her 10 year old might.

It was a strong kick. Unfortunately though—ten year olds are not well known for spectacular aim...

For a short moment, the ball soared through the air and past Maria’s head. Ricocheting off the oak tree before landing on the ground and rolling its way straight to towards Delilah; bumping softly against the side of her foot.

“Sorry Miss!”

Maria jogged after her daughter as Emily ran past her to retrieve the ball, already apologizing to the older woman.

“Sorry about that.”

Maria said as she caught up, standing just behind Emily with a hand placed on her shoulder.

Delilah responded with a kind of “psh” noise, accompanied by a dismissive wave of her hand as she bent down slowly to retrieve the ball from the place it had rolled slightly under the bench.

“Oh don’t worry about it hon; the thing didn’t even get any dirt on my boot”

Her voice was kind and warm as she looked up with a smile that deepened the plentiful wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

“That’s one heck of a kick you’ve got on you!”

Her age cracked voice said brightly. As she held the soccer ball out to Emily, who accepted it with a proud smile a she tucked it under her arm. Appreciative of the praise.

“Thanks miss! Now I just just gotta work on my aim.”

She said with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of her head.

“Oh call me Delilah sweetheart”

She requested with a small shake of her head.

“It’s nice to meet you Delilah! I’m Emily and this is my mom.”

Emily points to Maria behind her with a jab of her thumb.

“Maria. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Delilah said, shaking Maria’s outstretched hand in both of hers.

“I like your bracelet. Red’s my favourite colour!”

Emily interjected looking at the scarflette on the woman’s wrist.

Delilah looked down at the fabric wrapped around her wrist and then back up to the girl in front of her. Her sweet smile was still there, but it was softer as she pressed her lips into a line in thought.

“Is that so?”

She asked. A new sort of bittersweet gentleness to the way she spoke.

Emily gave a firm nod of her head in response.

“Sure is! It’s really pretty.”

Delilah gave a her own nod back. As if she had made a decision.

She began to unfurl the length of silk from around her wrist.

“I’m glad you like it…”

She let a deep breath out her nose.

“You know… Red was my daughters favorite color too. You sort of remind me of her actually.”

“Where is she now?”

Delilah’s face dropped ever so slightly. Noticing this, Maria gave a firm squeeze to Emily’s shoulder, an indication that to retract her question.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

She had not picked up on the message…

“Oh no hon, it’s ok.”

She reassured Maria, before turning back to Emily.

“You see sweetheart.”

A shaky hand was placed on Emily’s arm.

“My Leah has been gone for a long, long time. Much before you were born. Before even your mom.”

She looked up to Maria with a bittersweet smile. Her breath caught in her throat as Maria heard the slight waver in Delilah’s voice. Saw the wetness in her eyes.

“Oh… I’m sorry”

Emily muttered with lowered eyes.

“No don’t apologize love…”

Her expression, though still bittersweet, grew with fondness.

“See, I took her in when she was just a baby. By the time she was 8 she had grown into this beautiful little lady with the brightest, most outstanding personality. She loved the outdoors and was never afraid to get her hands dirty.”

She looked wistfully down to the length scarflette, now removed from her wrist, as she ran her fingers over it.

“And she had this strength. And boldnesss in her. I’m not sure where it came from because it most certainly wasn’t me..”

A wet laugh bubbled out from her as she shook her head. Dabbing her now damp eyes with a tissue she had pulled from her pocket.

Maria felt her own eyes begin to burn. She placed a hand on Delilah’s shoulder.

“She had tanned skin. Just like you and your mom… so unlike me, whose complexion puts paper to shame; she always looked best in the brightest, boldest colours.”

She look down again as she began to neatly fold the vibrant red piece in her lap.

“And this was her favourite accessory. She found every use she could for it.“

Maria watched in awe as, with fingers trembling gently with age, she took Emily’s open hand.

“A scarf of course.. but also a headband, a bracelet, a belt…”

Delilah pressed the fabric into the now teary-eyed girl’s palm. Closing her small fingers into a fist around it. Giving it a small squeeze of finality.

“And if I had guess. You’re going to find some creative uses of your own.”