Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: HOME (02/07/19)
- TITLE: God Chose The Head Of Our Home
By Mariane Holbrook
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We waited all day long to hear what time he would arrive.
Our mom would bake his favorite foods and clean and primp and fuss.
Though he'd been gone less than a week, it seemed a year to us.
When I was just a little girl around the age of four,
I'd run down to the corner, Mama watched from our front door.
And there I'd wait for Daddy who came home each day at three.
His railroad clothes were sooty but that mattered not to me.
He'd climb down from the bus and open up his arms so wide.
He'd hug me, lift me high up on his shoulders for a ride.
At home, with Mother waiting, Daddy'd kiss his loving wife,
And thank the Lord for giving him such blessings in his life.
My father's presence filled our home with laughter, fun, and joy.
He loved to tease and jest and play since he was just a boy.
Whichever room that he was in, it seemed we'd gravitate
To where he was because his life was cause to celebrate.
The room that Daddy liked the best was small and set apart.
'Twas where he'd gather all of us and open up his heart.
He'd praise the Lord for saving us, and freeing us from sin.
He'd read the Bible, then he'd pray and we would all join in.
My Dad was treasurer of our church and had a room upstairs.
He claimed it as his office where he handled church affairs.
He gave a warning to us kids and made it very clear,
"Don't ever borrow money from the offerings kept in here."
Dad kept his toolbox locked up tight and stored in the garage.
He kept it hidden in underneath an army camouflage.
We kids would borrow tools that Daddy used to fix his boat.
We never thought to put them back which really got his goat.
Election night was always fun, Dad loved his politics.
He'd listen to the radio and yell, "You lunatics."
We'd sit around the woodstove in the kitchen popping corn
And if the Democrats should win, he'd treat the news with scorn.
One day my dad decided that our house could use some paint.
My sisters tried to help him but then whimpered "We feel faint."
Though only four, I tried to help and made my way out back.
What Dad had painted yellow, I repainted it with black.
The front porch of our house was large, a perfect place for fun.
The trumpet vines that grew there gave protection from the sun.
The cushioned, dark green glider was where Daddy'd sit with me
And tell me of his childhood while he'd sip his sweet iced tea.
The bedroom where my parents slept was where us kids would run
Before the frightening thunderstorms had barely just begun.
We'd climb in bed with mom and dad and cover up our ears
Then Dad would tell us stories that would calm our mounting fears.
As each of us grew older and we went our separate ways,
We thought about our childhood home and all those special days.
My family's all in heaven now and waiting for the day
When God will whisper to my Dad, "Your daughter's on the way."
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