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Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "It's No Use Crying over Spilt Milk" (without using the actual phrase or literal exampl (02/07/08)
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TITLE: Through His Eyes | Previous Challenge Entry
By Celeste Ammirata
02/13/08 -
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What have I done? How could I have not known?
She looked at the clock and grimaced. Six forty five already, the kids will be getting up in a half hour. Grudgingly, she pushed back the goose down comforter, and climbed out from the warmth and security of her bed. Shuffling down the hall, she followed the tantalizing aroma that beckoned her to the kitchen. Thank you, Lord for programmable coffee makers, she thought, filling her favorite mug with the heavenly brew.
Her dream assaulted her as she made breakfast, put together lunches, made sure everyone had everything they needed, and drove ten year old Connor and twelve year old Lindsay to school. Connor was her athlete, her funny one. As a baby, he constantly needed to be in her arms, resting on her hip. She had come to affectionately refer to him as her ‘attachment’. Finally, slowly, he began to ‘let go’ in the middle of his kindergarten year.
Lindsay, though, was her independent one. As a toddler, she liked to check things out on her own, within the safety of Stephanie’s watchful eye. She loved her little brother and never minded the attention he required. She acted as though she were his second mother. Once, at four, when they were out front and two year old Connor gazed curiously at the street, Lindsay, screamed, “Connor, no!” and pulled him to the safety of the porch.
As time went on, Connor got most of Stephanie’s attention. After all, he was the one who needed her. And Lindsay was so independent; she didn’t need her as much as Connor did. She never complained about going to all the soccer and baseball games, and managed to make the best of her brother’s time consuming endeavors. After the games she would stand in the crowd, unnoticed as people gushed of Connor’s most recent achievements; her mom and dad glowing with pride.
The fact that all this attention was lavished on Connor didn’t bother Lindsay; right?
Right?
Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe the Lord is trying to let me know that Lindsay needs her mommy, just as I need Him. She shook her head, ashamed. All those times I let Lindsay take a back seat to her little brother. Grief consumed her. It was time to lay her sin down at the foot of the cross. “Lord, I’m sorry; I’ve neglected my little girl. I know I can’t change the past, so I won’t worry about what’s already been done. But from now on, I’m going to be the mother to her I always should have been. Thank you for helping me to see her through your eyes.”
After dinner that night, as her husband helped Connor get ready to head to yet another game, Stephanie sat next to Lindsay at the kitchen table. “How about me and you skip the game and have a girl’s night?”
Lindsay beamed up at her, “Really?”
Stephanie had to fight back tears at the look on her daughters face. Thank you, Lord, for opening my eyes. She gently touched Lindsay’s cheek, “Really.”
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Good writing.