Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CHILDHOOD (03/09/17)
-
TITLE: Mad Maddie | Previous Challenge Entry
By LeslieJean Anderson
03/15/17 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Until my freshman year, I was actually known as Mute Maddie, a nickname that was more accurate. My grandmother couldn’t get me to even say my name (which was Madeline) on my first day of school, and they almost held me back. But she’d insisted that there was nothing wrong with me and my extreme shyness would wear off with a kindly teacher, which is what happened.
But first they ordered some meetings with a school counselor, who said that my quiet nature was just a personality trait, and that she could teach me better responses. She also said that her tests showed a good emotional IQ and high levels of compassion.
My social skills got better and I eventually made friends at school, usually with kids who needed help. By the ninth grade, I found myself tutoring my classmates. That made everybody happy.
Everybody except for Brenda, who used to sashay by my tutoring table and declare, “Hey, look at Mute Maddie and her flunking friends. I guess she speaks their “sign language!”
One day, she used the word “retarded” instead of “flunking,” and one of my friends started to cry. I jumped up and confronted Brenda, telling her to grow up and leave us alone. I really told her off, using more words in 30 seconds than I usually spoke in a week.
The counselor later said that I’d exhibited “threatening body language” and “invaded her personal space” by jabbing my finger at her nose. I don’t even remember what I said. But after that, I was “Mad Maddie.”
In spite of that, I quietly blossomed in high school, and won a college scholarship. Then my grandmother died, and I started to flounder. I quit school and got a job at an infant day care center.
Supposedly I had parents, but they’d already been declared dead. Hippie children of the 60’s, they’d dropped me off with my grandmother when I was nine months old, saying they were going to “join the revolution” and “change the world.” Nobody’d heard from them since.
So, I had no hope of finding family. All I knew was that my grandmother – my rock and comforter – was gone, and now I really was alone. For a year after her death, I spoke only when absolutely necessary.
But during that year of silence, I made a different kind of progress. I found my grandmother’s Bible and began reading it, paying attention to the notes she’d made in the margins. I found prayers that she’d written down, and other writings that expressed her love for God. The little seed of faith I’d grown up with began to grow.
I began talking to God every morning when I woke up, all during the day and then again at night. I didn’t have to even use words. Before long, the crushing sense of abandonment began to fade. Everywhere I went, I felt a living Presence that conveyed the kind of comfort and security I’d only known with my grandmother at my side.
Finally, after a very long year, the estate was settled and my lawyer gave me a check to deposit in the bank. It was for $1.5 million. I had no idea.
Slightly dazed, I went to the bank, and guess who was waiting on customers at the teller’s window? Brenda!
As I waited in line, I silently talked to God about the things that had happened in high school. I watched Brenda and noticed that she was especially kind and patient with the elderly. Then it was my turn.
“Hello, Brenda,” I said.
With a look of recognition, she said, “Well, hello, Madd – er – Madeline. Good to see you. I'm sorry about your grandmother.” Her expression was one of sympathy.
“Thanks,” I said. Watching her closely, I smiled as her eyebrows flew up when she read the check. When she looked up at me, I grinned and whispered, “I’m Millionaire Maddie now, but that has to be our little secret – promise me?”
“Of course, Madeline. I really am sorry about - stuff. My lips are sealed. I promise. And let’s get reacquainted again sometime, ok?” Then she handed me a business card with her cell phone number written on it.
As I picked it up, I gave her the OK sign and said. “God bless you, Brenda. I’ll be going back to college now, but we’ll get together and talk."
This is a work of fiction 750 words
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.
