Hire
Writers
Editors
Home Tour About Read What's New Help Forums Join
My Account Login
Shop
Save
Support
E
Book
Store
Learn
About
Jesus
  



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

BACK TO
CHALLENGE
MAIN

INSTRUCTIONS

how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level

ENTRIES

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.





TRUST JESUS TODAY

TRY THE TEST



Share
how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Weary (05/03/12)

TITLE: Early Morning Rendezvous
By Marina Rojas
05/04/12


 LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
 SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
 ADD TO MY FAVORITES

I would hear his alarm go off every morning at exactly 4:30am. He would groan, roll over to turn off the blaring culprit, and then reach over for his robe.

In the cold dark mornings, he would kneel down on the floor next to his bed and he would pray.

After talking to God, my daddy would shuffle to the bathroom and I would hear the squeaky faucets protest as he turned on the water for a shower.

At that moment, I would shove my covers and my pillow under my blankets and sneak down the old wooden staircase to take my place on the chilly hardwood floor in the front parlor next to the kitchen. I would hide behind the parlor door, peeking through the open door frame and the wall.

Lying prone, with my face down on the cool slats of wood, I would angle myself sideways, waiting for him to come down the stairs. I knew he would come out of the bathroom smelling like Old Spice after shave and that he would take a quiet peek into my brother’s room, and then he’d peek into mine, and then he would tiptoe to his room to finish getting dressed for work.

He would enter the hallway carrying his old blue plaid Pendleton on one arm, and his socks and shoes in his hands, and he would try real hard to sneak down the stairs without making a sound. But I always knew he was coming because the old wooden steps would creak and moan under the weight of his approaching footsteps.

I would hold my breath as he descended and veered off into the kitchen, flipping on the light. I never wanted him to detect my presence. I just wanted to see him. He worked so many hours.

Peering through the door crack, I would watch him walk over to the old coffee percolator and plug its cord into the wall socket. Then he would take his old Bible from the countertop and spend a little time reading it, at least until the snort-snort-snort of the coffee pot quieted down.

He’d check the time on his gold pocket watch, get up, and fetch himself a cup of coffee while frying an egg in the smallest cast iron skillet on the stove top. Eating alone in the silence, he would use a piece of bread to sop up the egg yolk while sipping his coffee.

Sometimes as he ate, he would grab a pad of paper and a pencil and write something. And then he would fold it up, write my mama’s name on it with a big flourish, and then tuck it into the napkin holder, sticking out, to make sure she’d see it. I had snuck and read one of his writings once; it was a love poem to my mama although it was funny and had made me laugh. I had watched my mama smile as she read it and then she put it in her junk drawer and when we asked she told us kids that it was just a note and not to be nosy.

There were days he would sit in the stillness of the dark mornings and just run his hands through his hair. Later when the hair on his head disappeared, he would run his fingers thoughtfully through his beard, or twist his handle bar mustache.

I always wondered what he was thinking. I always wondered what he was wondering about.

When he would get up from the table and put his plate and coffee cup in the sink, I would wish I was brave enough to run out from behind the parlor door and hug and kiss him goodbye, but I wasn’t, so I didn’t.

And I would watch him heave a great sigh and put on his Pendleton to go out and face the cold damp mornings and I would see that he was surely tired, and that his countenance bore a weariness that spoke of the hard work he left home to do every day.

I would listen to his footsteps and the sound of his truck engine as it choked awake each morning and I waited until he drove out of the driveway and into the street before I lifted myself from the hard cold floor so I could go back to my bed and go to sleep.

And I could hardly wait for the next morning to come, so I could see him again.


The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.


This article has been read 399 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Dannie Hawley 05/10/12
Wow, does this pull at the heartstrings. I loved it.
Leola Ogle 05/10/12
Oh, how I love this delightful story. What a wonderful daddy, and how precious that the child took such pleasure in observing her daddy's morning ritual. Well written and an enjoyable read. God bless!
CD Swanson 05/11/12
Such a poignant entry. I could relate to this entirely. I loved observing my amazing dad...memories that will be etched in my heart forever. Your thoughts and this entry will mirror many a "little girl's heart."

Good job. God Bless~
Edmond Ng 05/14/12
Nice touch and approach on story angle.
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 05/15/12
I just love this piece. You captured my heart with this delightful description. I was worried for a bit that it might be a tad off topic, but the center of the MC's focus portrayed the perfect picture of weariness.
Hiram Claudio05/16/12
This was so wonderful! You really made a hero of this faithful and loving man. I could feel the love and admiration of this child for her father as she enjoyed their morning ritual. The scenes were so vivid and painted with such care. Great job!
Laura Manley05/16/12
Oh wow! That's exactly what I said outloud after reading your entry. It was simply wonderful. What a hard-working husband and father and what a devoted little girl, wanting just a glimpse of her daddy before he went off to earn a living for his house. This truly touched my heart. I loved your descriptive writing thrughout. This was simply a delight to read.
Genia Gilbert05/16/12
This is a really enjoyable piece. It is touching and well written. I love the MC's devotion to the Dad.
Hiram Claudio05/17/12
Congratulations on your 3rd place finish!
LaVerda Andres 05/17/12
I could almost feel the heart beat of the young girl as she observed her father. I loved the story, well written shows the love of child for her father!
CD Swanson 05/17/12
Congratulations. God bless~
Sherry Castelluccio 05/17/12
What a great Father's Day story! Congrats on the win, you've earned it! That was truly a delightful read.
Noel Mitaxa 05/17/12
Congratulations on your third placing, for this is such a warm, evocative entry. God bless you as your writing ministry grows.
Noel Mitaxa 05/17/12
Congratulations on your third placing, for this is such a warm, evocative entry. God bless you as your writing ministry grows.
Noel Mitaxa 05/17/12
Congratulations on your third placing, for this is such a warm, evocative entry. God bless you as your writing ministry grows.
Ellen Carr 05/18/12
A beaustiful description of a father from an adoring child's point of view. This was really touching. Congratulations on your 3rd place win.
Cynthia Dawson05/20/12
Marina, that was beautiful. I could see you laying on the floor peeking to watch your daddy. How precious. If it's a true story, it sounds like it is, I wonder if he really knew you were there. :)
Cynthia Dawson05/20/12
Ah darn, I hit enter before I put in a huge congrats to you for placing third. That is awesome! So happy for you.
Jan Ackerson 06/26/12
Marina, I'm going to feature this lovely story on the Front Page Showcase for the week of July 2. Look for it on the FaithWriters home page--and congratulations!
Michael Edwards 07/02/12
Great story Marina. You brought the reader into the room with you. I really liked it but I like you even more. God Bless, Mike
annie keys07/05/12
You literally brought tears to my eyes with these poignant memories of your childhood. Thank you so much for sharing.