Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Elect (03/05/26)
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TITLE: Mateo | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
03/10/26 -
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A disoriented rooster crowed like it had forgotten the coming of dawn. Smells shifted to soap, dust, and yesterday’s beans. Was that a hint of rain?
He swung his feet onto the cool tiles and rubbed his eyes. Thirteen and still here. Visitors were coming today, but people wanted babies, not boys like him. The matrons shuffled the little ones toward breakfast as Mateo fell into line, keeping his head low. Hope hurt worse than hunger. He swallowed both.
The egg-filled tortilla filled his belly but not his heart. Younger children buzzed with excitement. “Foreigners,” a matron whispered to the nurse. “They want a boy.”
Mateo shrugged. It wouldn’t be him. It never was. He finished his meal, washed his dish, and headed back to his room. Senora Alvarez stood in his doorway.
“Mateo,” she said. “Come!”
His stomach dropped. What had he done now? He wiped his hands on worn jeans and followed. His heart beat like a drum. Probably paperwork or chores he told himself.
At the director’s small office near the courtyard, sunlight spilled in through a high window. Someone was standing inside. A tall man. Broad shoulders, dark skin, a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled up. His eyes were warm and steady, the way a father’s might be-if Mateo had ever known one.
The man turned and smiled, “Hey, Mateo,” he said.
Mateo swallowed and looked at his feet.
“This is Mr. David Simpson,” Senora Alvarez said softly.
The man crouched, putting himself at eye level with Mateo. “I’ve been hoping to meet you,” he said.
Mateo blinked. “Me?”
The man nodded. “I read your file, saw your drawings, and heard how you love to help the little ones find their way.”
Mateo raised his eyes. “They showed you my drawings?”
“You have real talent,” David Simpson said.
Silence filled the space between them. Mateo’s mind spun. “Why me?” he whispered. “There are little kids here, babies. They need families more. I can take care of myself.”
The man hesitated, then rose and sat on a chair near the window. He motioned for Mateo to sit across from him.
Mateo sat stiffly, focused on the sunlight outside, lighting up the Bougainvillea flowers like purple fire.
Mr. Simpson leaned forward. “Mateo,” he said gently, “do you know what it means to choose someone?”
Mateo shrugged. “Like on a team?”
“Sometimes people choose because something is easy,” the man said. “A baby might be easy for some.” He paused. “But sometimes, choices are made because you see someone’s heart.”
Mateo’s chest tightened.
“I want to choose you,” Mr. Simpson said. “The teachers told me how you help the children with their reading. How you fix broken toys instead of throwing them away. How you sit on the roof drawing the mountains.”
Mateo examined his hands. “I like the quiet up there,” he said.
The man smiled. “I think God likes quiet places, too. And he likes to choose people who feel the most forgotten.”
The stillness wrapped around Mateo like a warm blanket.
A piece of paper was held out. “I came here looking for you,” Mr. Simpson said.
Mateo stared at the paper but couldn’t read the words. His eyes filled with water. “You already decided?” he asked.
“I did.”
“Before meeting me?”
The man nodded. “I chose you because I believe you belong in my family.”
Mateo’s chest hurt. “But you don’t know me.”
The paper was pulled away. “I’m hoping to.”
The words hung between them. Mateo wiped his eyes. “What if I’m not good enough?” he whispered.
The man placed a gentle hand over Mateo’s trembling fingers. “Son,” he said. “Being chosen doesn’t mean you earned it or that you have to keep earning it.”
Mateo looked up.
“It means someone loved you before you even knew it.”
Outside, the wind stirred the bougainvillea petals. A few drifted through the open window. Mateo saw himself in the petals. “Would… would I still draw at night?’
“You can draw anytime you want.”
Mateo hesitated, then whispered, “Do I call you dad?”
“Yeah,” the man said softly.
And for the first time in his life, Mateo believed he had been chosen.
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This story really touched my heart ♥? and pulled me in. I could envision myself at the orphanage.
I loved your creative entry on the topic of elect and you certainly deserved a 1st place finish in EC.
Again, your writing gift has been used for the glory of its Giver.
Mr David Simpson is a true analogy of our God, who loves us, His chosen, even when we feel we don't measure up.
Thank you for writing this. It touches hearts.
I enjoyed very many moments within it, the ability to bring emotions, tentativeness, and depth of sensitive dialogue really impressed me. It is a truly beautiful story. I liked being reminded that we were loved before we knew it. That makes God and His love so special.
Congratulations on your first place of the Best of the best.God has certainly used you and your family's ministry in adopting children and giving them so much love that they feel that they belong.
If you have a foundation set up to give to help adopt children I would love to know about it.
My favorite line is "And for the first time in his life, Mateo believed he had been chosen.