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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Red (10/01/09)

TITLE: That Big Red Door
By Deborah Caruso


Nothing is so sacred to me as that big red door, except
for what I found just beyond it. That door was there
for me before I knew what life was about. It was there
for me when my parents decided to call it a day, and it
was there for me when I felt the weight of this old world
come crashing down on me. I see how worn and tired
it is now, as I reverently walk up to it for a visit. I notice
that most of the paint has peeled off, and the red paint
in many places has now turned pink from years of sun.
In some places the paint is completely gone and I see
the antiquated naked wood exposed. The hinges have all
rusted from rain, and in between all of its beloved slats, years
of muck and grime have made their way in. It’s hard for me
to look at it in this shabby state. I can’t bear to see all of the
gauges and scars on it where it had taken a beating from the
weather, or perhaps from birds too. The door used to be cheery,
beautiful and brand new. It was the first thing I’d see whenever
I’d make my way around the line of young evergreens that
now stand grand and tall. That red door was the perfect
color for all that green surrounding it. All the vibrant flowers
that hugged the cobbled path leading up to it always greeted me too.
A symbol of faith is what that big red door was to me. It was
much bigger back then, now I have to reach down to open it’s corroded
iron handle, back then I had to reach way up and even then I could
hardly get it opened, now if I tried to open it, I think it would come
tumbling down, every splinter. There’s nothing beyond that
big red door anymore, everyone has moved on, and left it behind.
Whenever we wanted to pray, ‘Our Father which art in Heaven’,
we entered that big red door, whenever we wanted to hear
‘for God so loved the world’, we entered that big red door,
and whenever we wanted to sing ‘Amazing Grace’, we entered that
big red door. I think back to a special day when I entered that door.
I had worn my favorite pink dress with purple violets running all
along its hem and I had on my shiny white Sunday shoes. It was
Resurrection Sunday that day, so I had also worn my special
white hat and gloves just for the occasion, and my white
Bible with the bright golden zipper was tucked securely under
my arm. That was the day that I asked Jesus Christ to come live
inside my heart.

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This article has been read 414 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Graham Starling10/08/09
A sad tale with glimmer of hope at the end and nicely written. Paragraphs would have helped immensely.
Jan Ackerson 10/09/09
Very evocative and atmospheric...the formatting is a bit off-putting, though.

If you use MS Word, just type in block paragraphs (like this comment), with extra "enters" between paragraphs.

I enjoyed reading this, and hope to read more from you in the future!
Joshua Janoski10/11/09
Not much that I can say that hasn't been said already. Paragraphs would definitely help, and your descriptive writing really gsve me a good mental picture of that old worn out red door. The conclusion seemed kind of abrupt, but this piece held my attention and was fun to read.

I think you did a good job with this, and I encourage you to keep writing. You can only keep getting better every week that you enter the challenge. :)
c clemons10/12/09
I'm trying to figure out if the red door was a symbol of the Christ being door. Anyway, although descriptive, the description went on to long. Your point was made several lines back. Keep writing.