Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS (don't write about the song) (05/14/15)
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TITLE: Move On | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jennifer Isiko
05/20/15 -
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Left; right; left; right; I could hear the voice of the parade commander reverberating through the tall eucalyptus trees across the valley. As the deep voice thundered through the stillness of the dawn, I heard the thumping of feet on the ground in response to the command. On and on the soldiers went until the whole parade bellowed out a synchronized sound. For a moment my mind aligned itself to the synchrony coming from the valley beneath. A gentle wind came and blew past me; it was warm; may be it was announcing the eminent advent of the rise of the beautiful tropical sun. The gentle wind seemed to have a message to me. It said, “You are a soldier of Christ; march on”. I closed my eyes and reflected on the statement. “How do I march on when my world has crumbled? I am sitting out here at dawn; surrounded by dew; with all my strength drained! Where does one get the strength to march on?
A year ago I walked down the aisle; following the rhythm of the beautiful choir and not missing a beat of the music. They were singing in my honor and it felt good. I can still see myself clothed in that beautiful white gown with a veil on my head and all eyes on the bride. A smile passes my lips as I pen this down; it is a pleasant memory. I marched on like a soldier; my feet flowing in synchrony with the beautiful melody coming from the choristers. A new phase of my life was beginning.
The Lord surely sets the lonely in families; I have moved from a home of death and heading to a new home where there is life. I could not say farewell to my father and mother before proceeding to my new home because these two were already cold in their graves. All I could see were the two graves lying side by side. I could not even in my wildest imaginations decipher what their words would be on a significant day like this in my life. They got into their graves long before I completed teen age. My father’s wonderful sister who took the reigns of parenting me after the demise of those who brought me into the world was too sick to witness me marching down the aisle. I struggled to hear the mumblings coming from her mouth two days before the wedding. Her health was failing rapidly; she only managed to live for only a week after my triumphant march down the aisle.
“I will survive” I said to myself. Yes I did survive; and on a wonderful bright morning I held a boy in my arms. He was not just an ordinary boy but he was my son; the fruit of my womb. I had got a new purpose for living. The pains of my frustrating and fruitless search for a job did not dampen my spirit. I had got a new job; I was brand new mother. This job was good enough for me. Exactly ten days later, the boy I cuddled so lovingly in my eyes was inside his grave. Here I was looking at that grave; my son sealed forever beneath that concrete slab.
My entire life seemed to have been buried beneath the mound of that little grave. My mother preceded my son to that side of the world and so I could not get any encouragement from her. I took stock of the people that I loved that had crossed the bridge to the other side and I felt like I did not have any strength to move on.
With eyes filled with tears I looked hopelessly toward the sky and saw the beautiful deep orange tropical sun emerging out of the horizon. The gentle wind that came with it was warm and it drove the shivers of the chilliness of the dawn out of me. As I severed into the warmth that was enveloping me; the warmth entered into the very depth of my being; to my heart. “You will understand it all by and by” the wind seemed to whisper. I got up and I am still marching on into the future. Yes, I am a wounded soldier but I will march on because the great physician is healing me.
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I noticed you had some comma and semicolon errors, which can be difficult for everyone. If you can find someone to proofread for you, it should help with those rules. There are some great resources listed in the forums under Jan's Writing Basics that would help. This line made me pause and reread: They got into their graves long before I completed teen age
The word got threw me off as it makes it sound like they climbed into the graves. A simple recording would fix it:
They were placed into their Graves long before I reached my teenaged years.
Overall, I think you did a great job of writing on topic. You used imagery to drive the topic home too, which is an added bonus. You've shared an experience that every parent fears, yet, you bring a great deal of hope into this sad story. Your ending felt powerful and renewed my faith.
It helps the reader if you leave an extra line between paragraphs. (a common mistake with new Faithwriters - I did at the beginning too.)
Keep writing. You have a gift with words.