Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Write for the BIOGRAPHICAL Genre (12/04/14)
- TITLE: My Story
By John Esposito
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“She is like this all the time. Always thinking about others and always trying to help someone. My wife calls her little Mother Teresa.
“Is that why you came back?”
“As soon as she started talking to you I knew we weren’t going home yet. She is truly an inspiration to all she comes in contact with. God gave us something very special. He speaks thru her. She is still just a typical 6 year old, but she is filled with the Holy Spirit and we have to listen to her. The Lord has sent us an angel, and she is telling us what God wants us to do.
“That must be very difficult for you as a parent.”
“It is. In stead of teaching her I have to listen to her. And she can’t go anywhere by herself, so not only do I have to take her somewhere, I have to then follow her. Yes it’s very difficult sometimes; I’m always praying for guidance and understanding.”
“Well, thank you for coming back and for this wonderful meal. With the local restaurants in the area being closed today, dumpster diving would have been just another place to get away from the snow.”
We packed up, and Jim took his blessing home to tuck in after a busy day. I went upstairs to tuck myself in and to gather my thoughts. Tonight the utility closet seems a little bigger and less lonely.
Two weeks went by and Dory and Jim picked me up like they promised to head over to the Epworth Methodist Church. Dory had invited me on Thanksgiving to go with them to the hanging of the greens service.
If you’re ever in the Boston area stop by and check it out. It’s an old stone church with a spectacular stone bell tower. Inside fresh garland was hanging everywhere. It was strung and directed you up the stairs to the balcony. It was draped around and swaying under the windows.
The Altar was covered with poinsettias with the Masters cross in the middle. The air was filled with the smells of pine and balsam, which engulfed my soul and spirit. The carols sung by the choir and congregation just added that extra element that made you feel like you just died and went to heaven.
About a month later Jim stopped by and asked if he could take me to lunch. After I changed into cleaner clothes that my friend Joe at the YMCA washes for me, off we went. Eating my share of endless bread sticks and salad with Italian sweet peppers; I recommend the Olive Garden for all of your lunch meetings.
Jim being the polite and patient guy that he is, waited until my fork stopped sparking and my plate empty. He told me that he was a writer and new a lot of people in the publishing industry.
“I’m thinking about writing a new book and wanted to get your input.”
“Thanks, but why my input? I have nothing to offer you.”
“I want to write about your life story. I think it would be a huge success within the biographical genre. Right now I think that community will eat this up. I’m a very successful writer because I strike when the iron is hot. The time to get your story out is now”
“With your permission I think that book sales will sky rocket. Stores will not be able to keep the book in stock. All the proceeds from the book will go back into the communities. I want nothing from this, just your story.”
“You want my story?”
“Yes, your story.”
“The profits from your story could renew homeless shelters and soup kitchens. New ones, bigger ones. If we rethink this situation it will be revolutionary. And with some training you could run of these new homes. Yes, homes, not shelters.”
“My story, revolutionary, wow!”
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