Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Elect (03/05/26)
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TITLE: To Be Chosen | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
03/11/26 -
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She’s holding a cool-looking guitar, the kind with all six pegs on one side of the neck, and she is posed in good taste with slender legs crossed discreetly as directed by the photographer. Another girl is standing. The third sits with hands poised over the black and white keys.
The caption reads, “Hopeful contestants in the upcoming Miss *un-named place* contest.”
I show the old picture to Johnny Dog, the amiable Lab who protects me. He tilts his head as if to question my interest in the paper photo.
“Yes, JD, you know that girl sitting on a massive piece of musical furniture. Don’t laugh. Someday you may look different too!”
My old acoustic Fender leans against the wall in the corner. Like me, it’s a little beat up and missing some important parts. Namely, strings.
The last-minute call to our Christian nursing school to recruit contestants had seemed like a committee afterthought. Perhaps they erroneously assumed we were ugly, clumsy, or wound too tight to present well to the public.
The school director had asked the class to quickly elect three girls to apply for consideration in aiming for that sparkling crown. It seemed sensible to expect each applicant also might have a passable evening gown and, hopefully, wouldn’t stumble on stage. That’s how I came to be sitting atop the baby grand.
A pain shoots through my leg as I get up to put on the tea kettle. My faithful dog follows me, so I continue to reminisce, knowing for sure that he loves me even when I occasionally wobble.
“You know, John-John, I have not always clomped around in orthopedic shoes. In fact, someone once told me I walked with a tiny dash of, uh… elegance.”
Big deal. He is unimpressed. I prattle on.
“Even if I had been afforded the luxury of time to practice something vaguely talent-worthy and understood the grueling pageant process, all that hoopla still paled in comparison to learning about the exciting world of medical things and patient care.”
Johnny ignores my silly defensive chatter. He prefers to stare at his empty bowl and wait patiently for a response to his snack wish.
Remembering one quirky thing I learned about the backstage at beauty competitions still makes me laugh. We were advised to apply petroleum jelly to our teeth to make it easier for tired lips to hold a pose. A few minutes of grinning like a possum causes facial muscles to twitch, which is not a very glamorous look. Also, it hurts a little.
Sadly, the sticky stuff felt more like glue than a dazzling smile-helper. It took a lot of toothbrushing later to be able to eat lunch without choking.
After a tiresome Saturday of running through the paces and then lining up to be chosen or rejected, my two naïve friends and I were genuinely relieved to find out we had escaped the tedious upcoming main event. Returning to a strictly monitored-by-a-house-mother dorm that we jokingly called “the convent” didn’t seem so stifling now.
Two other opportunities within the façade of competition glamor taught me a few useless lessons. For example, I learned the fine art of walking in three-inch heels to the edge of a stage, pivoting gracefully so as not to swing the hem of a hoop-skirted ball gown up in the air to shock the audience, and how to smile sweetly with a mouth full of gleaming Vaseline-covered teeth. There’s very little call for those skills in the real world.
As I take my herbal brew back to the cozy over-stuffed chair, I pass a mirror and stop for a brief in-your-face look at a woman who remembers who she thought she was, but even better, who she became in Jesus.
The reflection I see is thankful for the hard-won claim to a bit of life experience and Godly wisdom and doesn’t have to wonder where that back-then girl went after she slid off her temporary fancy piano seat. She knows.
I raise my cup to salute the older but spiritually improved model, now creaking and slightly dented, and whisper, “Thank you, Lord, for setting that girl straight. She is blessed to have won the most important title there is, which makes her one of the elect. She’s a Daughter of the KING!”
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Based on true events. *City name withheld
1 Peter 3: 3-4 NIV
Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.
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I think your story would have been even better if it had written in chronological order instead of jumping between the past and the present