Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Lock (03/06/06)
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TITLE: Sarah Anne | Previous Challenge Entry
By Vicki Chappelear
03/08/06 -
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She lead me to my niece’s bedroom. It was pink and purple, everything about it said this was a girl’s room. The white furniture stood in contrast to the pink walls, the bedding was lavender with big pink and white flowers all over it. The bed was made and filled with all sorts of pillows and stuffed animals. In the corner was a toy box which held every type of doll possible, along with all the clothes they would ever need. Standing next to the box was a stroller, a crib and a car seat for the doll on the go. She had a book shelf full of books and many scrap books that my sister, Amy, had made. My niece loved looking at the pictures of her life as a baby and all the milestones that she reached, along with many keepsakes stuffed inside. On the dresser, there were decorative boxes that held all sorts of ribbons and bows, barrettes and headbands in every color possible.
Sarah Anne, my niece, was all girl. A precious 6 year old, with a perpetual smile and giggle to go with it. Her sweet rounded face, long blonde curly hair, and bright green eyes would light up any room. She always insisted on wearing a dress even in the coldest weather, with boots to match, of course. She must have her hair done at all times: pig tails, braids, barrettes and even buns were just a few of the hair styles that you would see her sporting on any given day.
Amy took a breath and opened the door, it had been two months since this sweet girl had gone to be with Jesus. We now had the hard task of going through her “girly” things and passing them on to others who could use them.
“Mama, make sure that you give my dollies to good mommies, I know they will be loved.” Sarah said just weeks before the cancer totally consumed her little body.
We began to put the toys in different boxes according to the places they were going, most of them were going to the Children’s Hospital that had given Sarah such wonderful care. Sarah loved all the people at the hospital. You would think that she would have hated having to be there, the treatments which made all of her hair fall out, and all the poking and prodding that were a must in caring for her and yet, she saw it as an opportunity to tell people about her friend Jesus. When she died there was not one person that she had come in contact with that didn’t know about her Jesus. She was quite the evangelist, and wise beyond her years.
We finished with all of the toys and Amy sat down at the end of the bed and began to work on the book shelf. She packed away the books of nursery rhymes and picture books. She then came across the scrap books, she began to flip through the pages, reminiscing about the years before cancer. She came to the most recent book and just stared at the pages, many were blank.
“Look, Mag” she said.
As I turned to look, she held up a lock of Sarah’s hair, tied with a bright pink ribbon. It had been cut just after her treatments began. Amy wanted to save a bit of hair so that Sarah would remember what color her hair was and how curly it had been, while she was waiting on her hair to grow back. It never did.
Amy held the hair close to her heart, smiled and we both cried.
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