Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes

Sunny was four, the youngest of seven children. She was slightly bowlegged, had wispy blond hair and intense blue eyes. It was early June and she liked to go down to the river by their house. The Moon River was dangerous and she knew it, but it wasn’t wide where it ran through their property and she had heard Mama say that the water was down last night after the rains. She knew it would be safe enough, and she wanted to see if there were any treasures that the water had left her on the banks. After a storm, the water in the river surged its banks, and oftentimes came up into their yard making life difficult. But after the water went down, you never knew what the river would offer.

Sunny ran barefoot on the sandy ground, the earth cool. When she got to the river, she waded out just a few inches into the water, and, holding onto branches and tree roots that jutted out of the bank, she made her way upstream. She saw a bucket floating that was pink and had a handle. Pulling a stick out of the brush, she reached out and caught the handle with the stick and carefully pulled it to her. She sat the bucket on the bank. Something bright gold flashed in the sunlight a few yards away, blinding her. She carefully moved upstream toward the flash of gold. After several steps, she saw the gold was a watch on the wrist of an arm that was sticking up on the bank. Sunny drew closer, afraid but curious. She saw black hair flowing upside down and what looked like a woman laying on her stomach in the water, her leg caught by a downed tree branch. Sunny stepped closer and touched her hair. She had never seen a dead body before, but she knew this woman was dead. Sunny wanted to help her, but could think of nothing to do. Then she remembered what the man had said at her grandma’s funeral.

Sunny knelt in the sand and said, “Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh. Blessed be the Lord.” It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she could do.

The words sounded wrong to her now when spoken over this woman, not like something you say over a dead person at all. Sunny figured this person didn’t want to die and the Lord didn’t have anything to do with the takin’. Standing, she rinsed her sandy hands in the river. She paused, saying, “I’ll be back.” Then she ran home to tell her daddy.

Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul. All rights reserved.