Home Read What's New Join
My Account Login

Read Our Devotional             2016 Opportunities to be Published             Detailed Navigation

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge



how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level


submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners

Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.



how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Flowers (10/03/05)

TITLE: A rose by any name..
By Jesus Puppy


A rose by any name..

Deborah was truly feeling her age, bent down digging in the soft soil of her garden. She always kept it tilled fine for the smaller planting, which she changed every year for variety. But it was not the work that was getting the best of her, it was over an energetic grand child.

When her daughter had called that morning, saying she had a special meeting to get to, and the sitter couldn't make it, Deborah was more than happy to help. Then the child arrived, and pandemonium broke loose. The child was a mass ball of energy, with no outlet, but to run her grandmother to the ground. Inside board games would not work, for this child of only five, it was run or run, and up to grandma to keep up.

Finally giving in at noon, she just lit the child run and play in the yard, while she got some well needed weeding done in her small plot of a garden. She could keep a close eye on the child, and still get something done for the day. Or so she thought.

Every few minutes she would her the child's squeaky little voice shouting out, "Look Grandma, a caterpillar," the child would say, "Grandma, I found a birdís nets, see it up in the tree?" And then the most dreaded of statements, "Can I help you dig, Grandma?"

"Oh no, child," Deborah told her, trying to sound gentle, "this is very hard work, you just run and play." And off the small ball of energy would go, skipping across the yard. After only moments, a mere three weeds pulled, the child was back yet again.

"Here Grandma, I picked these just for you." In her hand was a mess of weeds pulled from the fence line, wild lace, yellow buttercups, and dandelions. "Better put them in a vase," the child said with a smile, "so they donít die right away."

Rising slowly to her feet, feeling more than her fifty five years of age, Deborah headed for the house, wondering how long before her own daughter would be getting back. Just as she reached the kitchen she heard another voice call out, "Deb, you home?"

"In the kitchen, Karen," she called out, though thinking to herself, that all she needed now was the nosy neighbor to come by, demanding attention she couldn't give at that moment. She just kept digging in the cupboard for a vase, but all she could find was an old dirty coke bottle.

"What are doing with a hand full of weeds," Karen asked, "you should get rid of those, only cause your allergies to act up." She turned and looked at her neighbor of more than fifteen years, and felt at a lost as to what to say at first. Then standing at the sink, rinsing and filling the bottle with water, she saw her grandchild chasing a butterfly across the yard.

ďThose aren't weeds," she said, as matter-of-fact as she could, "those are the most beautiful flowers, hand picked by an angel, from God own personal garden." With much care she arranged the weeds in the old bottle, and placed them on the window sill. Seeing the child's energetic wave, she smiled and waved back.

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE

JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.

This article has been read 1196 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Garnet Miller 10/10/05
I am not a grandmother but I know what it's like to chase after two small boys! Good use of the topic!
Gabrielle Morgan10/10/05
A lovely story. The true meaning of giving, it's the thought that counts. Thanks for this.
Jan Ackerson 10/11/05
This is very sweet, although the way you described Deborah's weariness, I imagined her to be at least in her 70's! The grandchild (you should name her) is adorable. I think you should work on avoiding predictable phrases: a rose by any name, ball of energy, pandemonium broke loose, keep a close eye on...these could be re-written using fresh language to give this piece more of a punch. Very lovely lesson, makes me eager to have grandchildren of my own!
Amy Michelle Wiley 10/11/05
Sweet story! I enjoyed it. :-)
J. C. Lamont10/11/05
Definitely not a cute story. A morbid twist. Cruel and sadistic story...too dark for my taste.
Anita Neuman10/12/05
Isn't it great how someone else's negative words can snap us back into defending our annoying loved ones? Well-done!
Jeanette Oestermyer10/13/05
This is a wonderful story of a Grandmother who found the beauty, not only of the wild flowers, but in the love of a child -- her grandchild.
I also like the fact that the attitude of the neighbor made Grandma realize how precious the thoughts of the little girl were.
Neat story.

Julianne Jones10/14/05
A cute story. I'm just hoping that when I have grandchildren that I will enjoy each moment with them and take time to view the caterpillars and the birds nests and let them dig. Glad this grandmother finally learnt the true value of things.
Linda Watson Owen10/15/05
I can't wait to be a 'gramma'! Thanks for your 'slice of life' story about a weary granny and her new found appreciation of her grandchild.