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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Birth (infancy) (08/20/09)

TITLE: My Precious
By Caledon Hockley
08/26/09


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When I walk into a museum, I am assured to find this motif. I get stunned. My throat dry, unlike the feeling of dry swallowing a bitter pill. It's more like a fish bone trapped in my esophagus which will never budge. No relationship is as blissful as a mother to a child. But art always portrays mothers losing their child as he dies in her arms bleeding, while she is drenched in sorrow. Even in nature, this image churns my sour heart; when lions butcher a baby elephant or when a snake consumes the unborn life in an egg. I am reminded of when I lost my precious.

It was difficult to have different lives than my highschool peers. They worried about academics while I had something else to care for. My path gravid of disruptions influenced my education. But that did not matter. There were other concerns in the world. My precious provided me a reason to live, a new outlook in life, and to expend all my love and care for this delightful little thing is all that mattered. My friends were the enemies. They deem it irresponsible to be involved at such a young age. I disregarded them. It was just me, my precious, and the mother which feeds it.

My kin condemned even more. They disapproved. To provide for my precious depleted all we had while Father threatened to send us away. Countless quarrels were trailed by tears. I recall once as I knelt in front of Father with tears streaming down my face as I held it in my arms. A piercing sound struck my cheek. My precious, startled and troubled, was calling out for me, yearning for my care. I knew I loved it no matter what anyone said.

A child's laughter is warming. Others respond with their laughs. But laughter become mocking. Why is he doing this? Is he able to make it through? Is he able to succeed? My precious induced paranoia and depression. It made me sick to the nose. But when it cries out for me, I embrace it. Its hunger for me did not exceed my hunger for it.

My precious destroyed my life and caused my isolation. Alone in an empty world, I had no one to look to. If there were, my precious convinced me they were trying to take me away from it. I caught a glimpse of my precious and me in a mirror. My face, deprived of life, struck me harder than Father. I fed my precious more than it fed me. I stared, until I understood this unworldly distress I brought upon myself. And thus, I gave my precious away.

The Blessed Virgin Mary understood the loss of her child was for the better good. Nature's beings continue with their lives and reproduce. As for myself, my precious caused me lifetime devastation. Twas no good but the Lord forgives as I have changed my ways.


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Member Comments
Member Date
Joanne Sher 09/01/09
I can feel your passion. Very intense, and what a testimony. Beautiful in a haunting way.