Cathy, challenged several of us to a story challenge. Using the phrase
I SHALL NOT WASTE MY DAYS IN TRYING TO PROLONG THEM to end our story. This is my fiction story that I wrote as part of this story challenge.
Wolfbaby
Ipanema
Laundress
Dr. Schwab
At Your Cervix
Kim (Emergiblog)
The Wandering Author (?)
KT-RN
Frequency of Silence (JCR)
Truth is Freedom (Brian)
Patient Anonymous
Pearls and Dreams (PK)
Mimi Writes (Mimi)
Potpourri Of Writing (Mary Emma)
Charlie
Ladybug
Musings of a Distractable Mind (Dr. Rob)
Bankerchic
I SHALL NOT WASTE MY DAYS IN TRYING TO PROLONG THEM
She hung her head down as she walked into the Sunday School classroom. She was only 10 years old, but she looked as if she were 60 and the weight of the world was on her shoulders. No one knew who she was. Her dress was a little too big, and her shoes were worn out. Her hair was brushed, but needed cutting. Someone had put a ribbon in her hair, but obviously had no experience in doing little girls hair.
She took the empty chair at the table, obviously hoping that no one would notice her. The Sunday School teacher decided to just let her quietly enter the classroom, instead of making a big deal of the visitors who normally visit the class. She would find out her name, and something about her before introducing her to class.
As class began, the kids all were distracted by this little girl who seemed so out of place. Long skinny fingers fidgeted as she held her hands on the table. When she realized she was being watched, she quickly snapped her hands off the table and into her lap. The less attention the better. Maybe they'd stop watching her if they didn't see her fidgeting?
The lesson began. Today's lesson was out of Matthew Six. 25 "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? The teacher read the scripture, suddenly aware that this may not have been the best scripture to have read aloud on that particular Sunday Morning. Children's eyes struggled to not stare at the little girl in the rumpled dress.
The teacher, blushing, read on, 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? 28 "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. by now, she knew, that she was stuck, she had no other lesson to prepare and she was too far into the scripture to back out. All she could do was pray that she would not humiliate this little girl. So, she kept reading.
29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
She quietly looked at the class and the flower on her desk she'd brought for the lesson. Suddenly, the flower looked so pale, so lifeless in it's little vase. The lesson seemed so ... dismal. What could she say with this classroom full of brightly clothed children, with hair perfectly brushed and bright shiney shoes? With this one child brought into their midst who is obviously not the same?
She picked up the flower and put it back down. The little girl raised her hand. Shaking a little. The teacher said "yes dear?" Nervousness took over both of them. The teacher having no idea what was going to come out of this little girl. The little girl, knowing she wasn't quite in place, and would she be accepted?
She said, "My name is Elise. Last year, my Mom and Dad were both working at good jobs. I was always at after school daycare. At friends houses. With babysitters. I had all the things my friends had. We had a big house. Then, my mom got sick. She has cancer. She had to quit her job. We had to sell our big house and move to a small one, and we have to take hand me downs for clothes. People bring us stuff. My Mom, is going to be Ok. I don't have all the things my friends have anymore. My mom is getting better. The medicines are working and soon she'll be healthy again and my mom will be able to put my ribbons in my hair instead of my Dad. The amazing thing is, that we've learned to be a family. No more daycare. No more babysitters. I may not have everything my friends have, but I have a family. We go on picnics to see the flowers and have fun together. I can have friends to my house because my parents have time. We may not have stuff, but we have each other."
The class, was a bit uncomfortable, but the teacher was touched deeply. The flower was suddenly the bright, pretty example she'd thought it'd been when she brought it. Perspective is everything.
This little girl, Elise, who looked so misplaced, was perfectly placed. The Sunday School teacher walked out of that class that morning learning an important lesson ...to leave everything in God's hands ... to not worry about tomorrow ...for God will take care of it. To not worry about the next moment, because God has everything under control. To not worry. She vowed "I SHALL NOT WASTE MY DAYS IN TRYING TO PROLONG THEM"
PK, What a great inspirational story you have written.
ReplyDeleteThank you for doing this and for giving us such a good story.
((HUGZ))
ahh pk I love it that was so inspiritational even if i can't spell the word right... !!! beatiful
ReplyDeleteWe need to get together for coffee!Written so well.((PK))
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming by to comment on my story.
ReplyDeleteYour story is wonderful and touching and shows the importance of the person inside, not the appearance outside.
Well done. Your story flowed smoothly. I could get a very clear picture of the young girl and almost hear her speaking!
ReplyDelete