Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Rich (04/26/12)
TITLE: He Was Rich
By Marina Rojas
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Her aunts and uncles were playing cards, and fueled by tall, cool cans of beer and short stubby bottles of Thunderbird wine, the activity at the table was loud and boisterous.
Smacking her lips and sucking at the sweet and salty mush she held in her cheeks, she noticed her favorite uncle had a large cache of change in front of him. She scooted close to him, eventually catching his eye. He gave her a big grin and a hug and then handed her a stack of quarters and patted her on the back.
He was rich.
Walking home from school, she fought blustery winds and tried hard to balance all of her schoolbooks in one hand and hold the hem of her skirt tightly in the other so she wouldn’t be embarrassed by having the wind blow it up around her head.
Not even halfway home she was so frustrated (having dropped her books a few times already) that she was ready to cry. Why couldn’t her parents pick her up from school once in a while, anyway?
She heard a car pull up behind her, almost beside her, and she rushed to get out of it’s way. Darn! She dropped the books –again! She ran all over the place trying to catch the papers flying around in the wind. A hand reached out to pick up her books and hold them tight. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” He flashed his pearly white teeth at her, offering a big smile. She looked over at his 1969 Chevy Impala and gladly took him up on his offer. She noticed the leather seats.
He was rich.
Pulling up at the company celebration dinner, she locked the doors to her Volkswagen bug and dropped the keys into her purse. From what seemed like miles away she heard the roar of the engine of a hot little sports car and she turned her head in it’s direction, noticing a bright red Ferrari cruise into the parking lot. The driver headed straight for valet parking, dropped the keys into the hands of a very happy young man and then darted right in to a private entry way.
Adjusting his Armani suit jacket as he walked his finest runway inspired walk towards the crowd, the tall blond Ferrari owning man lit up the room as he made his grand entrance into the company dinner dining room. The maitre d rushed over with the finest bottle of champagne for his enjoyment. He popped the cork as the crowd gushed over his presence.
Ferrari man feasted on steak, caviar and shrimp cocktail without a worry for the bill. He pulled twenties from his money clip all night, tipping the waiters in mock appreciation of never seeing his drink get near empty once during the course of the event.
He was rich.
Walking quietly into the little room at the retirement home, she spotted him in a corner chair, head bent slightly, his eyes closed in a peaceful respite. As she came closer to him, she noticed the well worn Bible on his lap and his hand resting on the page before him. She sat down silently so as not to disturb his nap.
Looking at his weathered hands, she thought of the hours of hard work those hands had put into this earth’s efforts. Remembering the time they had met, and how he had introduced her to Jesus brought a smile to her face. He had changed her life, as he had changed the lives of so many others throughout his walk on this side of glory.
She said a silent prayer, thanking God for his faithfulness in boldly speaking the truths of the gospel to friends and strangers alike. Leaning over to touch his furrowed brow, she noticed he was not breathing and realized that he had gone home to his Lord and Savior.
He was rich.
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