XV The Beginning of Vacation Anne locked the schoolhouse door on a still , yellow evening , when the winds were purring in the spruces around the playground , and the shadows were long and lazy by the edge of the woods . She dropped the key into her pocket with a sigh of satisfaction . The school year was ended , she had been reengaged for the next , with many expressions of satisfaction . ... only Mr. Harmon Andrews told her she ought to use the strap oftener ... and two delightful months of a well-earned vacation beckoned her invitingly . Anne felt at peace with the world and herself as she walked down the hill with her basket of flowers in her hand . Since the earliest mayflowers Anne had never missed her weekly pilgrimage to Matthew 's grave . Everyone else in Avonlea , except Marilla , had already forgotten quiet , shy , unimportant Matthew Cuthbert ; but his memory was still green in Anne 's heart and always would be . She could never forget the kind old man who had been the first to give her the love and sympathy her starved childhood had craved . At the foot of the hill a boy was sitting on the fence in the shadow of the spruces ... a boy with big , dreamy eyes and a beautiful , sensitive face . He swung down and joined Anne , smiling ; but there were traces of tears on his cheeks . `` I thought I 'd wait for you , teacher , because I knew you were going to the graveyard , '' he said , slipping his hand into hers . `` I 'm going there , too ... I 'm taking this bouquet of geraniums to put on Grandpa Irving 's grave for grandma . And look , teacher , I 'm going to put this bunch of white roses beside Grandpa 's grave in memory of my little mother ... because I ca n't go to her grave to put it there . But do n't you think she 'll know all about it , just the same ? '' `` Yes , I am sure she will , Paul . '' `` You see , teacher , it 's just three years today since my little mother died . It 's such a long , long time but it hurts just as much as ever ... and I miss her just as much as ever . Sometimes it seems to me that I just ca n't bear it , it hurts so . '' Paul 's voice quivered and his lip trembled . He looked down at his roses , hoping that his teacher would not notice the tears in his eyes .
`` And yet , '' said XXXXX , very softly , `` you would n't want it to stop hurting ... you would n't want to forget your little mother even if you could . ''
Andrews Anne Cuthbert Grandpa Marilla Matthew Paul evening geraniums months