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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Once in a Blue Moon (01/06/11)

TITLE: Once In A Blue Moon
By Steven Kellen



“Oh my gosh where is it?” Jeremy muttered to himself. “I just had it!” It seemed to Jeremy that he’d just had his pocket knife no more than five minutes ago, and now it was gone!
He was afraid his mom was going to wring his neck. He was twelve years old, he had just gotten his first pocket knife for Christmas a couple of days ago, it was gone already. “Daddy will have my hide,” Jeremy groaned.
The blue eyed boy in worn blue jeans was beside himself with worry. He had wanted a pocket knife all of his life and had pleaded with his parents to get him one. It was always the same old thing from his mom: “You’re not old enough.” “You’ll cut yourself.” “You will lose it the very first day.” It was always some excuse, and his dad always gave in to his mom’s frettings.
Jeremy searched the pockets of his jeans one more time, then started searching through the heavy hand made patchwork quilt on his upper bunk. He then checked to see if the knife had slid down between the quilt and the hand split maple log that supported the side of the bed. “Not there either!” Jeremy fumed. He was so frustrated he was on the verge of tears. It was a hand-me-down knife that his Grandpa had given to Jeremy’s dad. It was an Old Timer, and it was Jeremy’s very first knife!
The knife was gone and Jeremy just knew that his parents would never trust him again with another one.
Not only that but his big brother Jim would laugh himself silly over his dumb little brother losing his knife within two days of Christmas!
What was Jeremy going to do? He had to find that knife!
Jeremy shoved his head under his pillow and silently sobbed “Oh Lord, please help me find my knife! I know I messed up and I really should have been more careful. I’ll take better care of it, I promise!”
With that, Jeremy came up for air, wiped his eyes and slid off the upper bunk. He came down with a soft kerplump in his heavy woolen socks on the bare, rough, wooden floor. Jeremy started trying to remember where he had been and what he had been doing. His mind was racing as he poked into every corner of the bedroom.
At least Jeremy’s brother had gone ice fishing with his friends and wasn’t home to pester him.
Jeremy went out to the open area that made up the kitchen and living room of the three room log home. His dad was sitting in the creaking rocker reading a book by the light of the oil lamp. His mother was humming to herself as she stirred a pot on the iron plated kitchen cook stove. Jeremy tried not to look like he was not searching for something as he furtively peeked behind the wood bin. He had been sitting there earlier carving on an alder branch to make a whistle like his daddy had shown him.
“Where else have I been?” Jeremy desperately asked himself. “PLEASE help me Lord!” he prayed in his heart. Then it dawned on him that he had gone out to the outhouse once during the morning. Jeremy quickly pulled on his boots, and slipped into his tattered old wool jacket. He sauntered through the kitchen and out the front door. He jogged around the corner of the house and down the path to the old, shake sided shed fifty feet away at the edge of the woods.
“Thank goodness no one is inside,” Jeremy thought to himself. He pulled on the frozen rope handle of the door and stepped into the semi dark shed. He was immediately greeted by the familiar pungent odor indigenous to all outhouses. Jeremy anxiously searched for his illusive knife in the dim light. Aha! There it was on the wooden seat pushed up against the wall where he had been carving his initials! Jeremy had closed his knife and had laid it down next to the Sears & Roebuck catalogue! Quickly he grabbed up the knife and shoved it deep in his pocket. With a grin he pushed open the door with the blue moon painted on the outside and exclaimed, “Thank you Lord! Losing my knife once in a blue moon was enough for me!”

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This article has been read 211 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Mildred Sheldon01/13/11
I loved the story. I could just about feel the boys anxiety, because I've been there. Thanks for sharing and FYI put a space between paragraphs. Easier reading for the reader. Thanks and God bless.
Brenda Rice 01/15/11
Thanks for sharing your story. I'm so thankful he found his knife. I'm also very thankful for indoor rest rooms. I enjoyed reading this, and as someone has already said spacing between paragraphs makes it easier to read.