At the far end of the daisy garden stood a tiny house. Lavender scented its window, there was always a little flour in the kitchen, and its softest armchair had room for exactly two.
That was where Teri and Feri lived.
One morning, Feri woke especially early. He took out a piece of peach-coloured fabric, some thread and the tiniest embroidered daisy. He wanted to make a surprise for Teri.
He stitched carefully, sometimes poking out the tip of his tongue as he concentrated. When he finished, a soft little heart lay in his palm.
Only one side was rounder than the other.
Feri turned it to the right. Then to the left.
“Well, you are a little crooked,” he whispered.
The heart said nothing. It simply sat in his palm, with its tiny daisy in the middle.
Feri hid it in a little basket.
Just then, he heard Teri calling from the kitchen.
“Let’s bake something! Something lovely to look at even before it goes in the oven!”
They made heart-shaped biscuits.
Teri rolled out the dough, and Feri cut out the shapes. The first biscuit was too thick, the second stuck to the board, and the third looked exactly like a potato.
“What sort of heart is this?” asked Feri.
Teri examined it very seriously.
“I think it’s a heart that has had a very good lunch.”
They laughed so much that Feri’s long ear almost dipped into the flour bowl. Teri quickly moved it aside, then wiped a white smudge from her friend’s cheek.
While the biscuits cooled, they went out into the garden.
They had barely reached the daisies when the rain began.
Feri opened the peach-coloured umbrella. Teri’s long ear poked out from beneath it, and a fat raindrop landed on the tip.
“Come closer,” said Feri.
Teri snuggled up beside him.
“Like this?”
“Just like that.”
For a while, they listened to the drops drumming overhead. Then Teri carefully stepped into a puddle.
Splosh.
She looked at Feri.
Feri stepped in too.
Splosh.
That made them laugh all over again.
When the sun came out, they sat beneath the tree. Feri brought out the basket, but waited a moment before opening it.
“I made you something,” he said at last. “Only… one side isn’t quite the same as the other.”
Teri took the soft little heart in both hands.
She stroked the stitches, then touched the daisy.
“Did you sew all of this?”
Feri nodded.
“Even the flower?”
Another nod.
Teri hugged the gift to her chest.
“Then I’ll take it with me whenever you’re not beside me.”
Feri looked up.
“I thought you might mind that it’s crooked.”
“I would mind if you had left it in the basket and never shown me.”
That evening, they curled up together in the big armchair. Teri opened the storybook, and Feri rested his head on her shoulder. The little heart lay between them.
“Will we make well-fed hearts tomorrow too?” Feri mumbled.
“We will.”
“Potato-shaped ones?”
“Mostly potato-shaped ones.”
Feri smiled. By the time Teri reached the second page, he was asleep.
Teri pulled the blanket a little higher and carefully tucked in his long ear.
The slightly crooked little heart fitted perfectly between them.
Kamilla Akhmin