Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: STORM (10/05/17)
- TITLE: Under the Shelter of His Wings
By Venice Kichura
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A little girl was born.
She had the most intense green eyes
And hair as gold as corn.
She learned to walk at 13 months
Although she rarely spoke.
But when she did, she’d clap her hands,
Repeating rhymes from rote.
When she turned three, she’d memorized
And rehashed lines from movie stars
She’d learned from Disney shows.
As years rolled by,
Her parents feared that something had gone wrong.
It seemed their lonely Amy Sue
Marched to a different song.
Just before she turned 15,
They finally learned the name
For the disease that ruled her life.
Asperger's was to blame.
Though very bright, she skipped two grades—
Breezed through her senior year—
She finished school at age 16,
Then thought of a career.
So off to college she did go,
A scholarship in hand.
She studied art, got three degrees;
Her future did look grand.
But that was 30 years ago,
And not a lot has changed.
She doesn’t have a single friend;
Her family is estranged.
She makes up beds and wipes down sinks,
Mops floors and empties trash.
At times some gunk gets on her skin
And leaves an ugly rash.
A college grad, yet all she makes
Is 50 bucks a day.
That’s all she earns for cleaning rooms
At Key West Holiday.
Sometimes, she yearns to life a live
As others seem to know;
A house, a spouse, a dog and kids—
She’d never had a beau.
At times a man would wink at her
Or offer her a mint.
But she would just ignore these clues,
Not knowing what they meant.
The highlight of her boring day
Was lunch, which was at noon.
That’s when she got to read her book,
It couldn’t come too soon.
She found a place to sit and eat
Where no one would intrude.
She lacked the proper social skills
And needed solitude.
She ate her birthday lunch alone,
And no one even knew—
Today has marked another year,
And now she’s 52.
Then, suddenly, while standing up
To go back washing sheets,
She hears the news about a storm
That soon could flood the streets.
This monster storm would soon assault
The coast, besides the Keys
With winds that whipped at record speeds,
Trampling cars and trees.
A wave of panic strikes her brain
As she flees out the door
To clean the last few filthy rooms,
Then get off work at four.
Dashing to the corner store
To pick up storm supplies,
She sighs and notes the empty shelves,
Much to her demise.
A storm this size would need more prep
Than flimsy masking tape,
And she has not a single friend
Nor money to escape.
Walking home, she hears a voice
That seems to holler, WHY!?
Why not simply end it all?
Run in the storm and die.”
Jolting back, she looks around
And sees no one is there.
Where did this voice originate?
Who spoke this in the air?
Then, a sweet and gentle voice
Speaks softly to her heart.
It kindly says, “I love you, child.
Today’s a brand new start.”
Just trust in my redeeming love,
In me you can abide,
I’ll wrap my wings around your tent
If you’ll stay by my side.
She only has a grain of faith,
But that was still enough
To put her trust in this sweet voice—
That is her guiding thought.
She holes up in her tiny house
And weathers out the storm,
And much to her astonishment,
She doesn’t suffer harm.
The other homes surrounding hers
Are flattened to the ground.
But not a scratch is on her house.
It stayed both dry and sound.
Not only did she find a place of
Refuge from the storm.
She also found a friend that day
Who made her life transform.
The same still voice that spoke
That day to friendless Amy Sue
Is telling other lonely hearts,
“I’m here to dine with you.”
“He who dwells in the secret place of the most high shall abide in the shadow of the Almighty….He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall find refuge.” (Psalm 91:1 & 4
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