Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Outlook (06/02/11)
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TITLE: In a kitchen near Kitty Hawk, 1903 | Previous Challenge Entry
By Author Unknown
06/09/11 -
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Amanda kept her focus on the pot she was stirring. “Samuel, please don’t shout. Now. What is it Darling?” She tapped the spoon on the side of the pot and laid it on the iron stovetop.
“A…wagon…,” he spit out. “I saw a… flying wagon!” He ran to his mother and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Is that so?” his mother looked down at him and stroked his hair, her fingers lingering in the locks getting too long over his ears. When did he start getting so tall? He looks just like his papa.
“It’s true, Momma. It was huge and it went right through the sky. I thought it was going to hit the Martin’s tree, but it didn’t. There was a tiny little man in it!”
Amanda kneeled down and looked the boy square in the eye. “Samuel, using your imagination is wonderful. Your papa would be proud. He was fond of wild stories. But there are no men flying around in the sky.” She looked out the small kitchen window and pointed to the sky. “Only birds and bugs get to fly out there.” She pressed the boy’s nose with her finger. “Now go play. Momma needs to finish supper before Mrs. Winters comes by.”
“Okay, Momma. But it wasn’t my migmation. I really saw one.”
“Imagination, Dear.” Amanda said waving him out the door.
Samuel nearly knocked over Mrs. Winters as she walked into the house.
“You’re early,” Amanda smiled. “Thanks for coming over. I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”
“Oh, no hurry, Dear. Take your time.” Mrs. Winters eased her aging frame into the wooden chair next to the table. “I was done with my chores and Mr. Winters wanted his supper early, so…here I am.” She smiled up at Amanda.
“Well, I appreciate it.” She lifted the potatoes out from the water and set them on a plate. “I don’t know how I would have managed these last few months at the laundry without your help. Ever since Levi…,” saying it still made her knees buckle. “Well, you know.” She turned and looked at Mrs. Winters.
“I know.” Mrs. Winters smiled, then reached into her pocket. “I have your mail.”
Amanda sighed, “bills I presume?” She walked over picked up an envelope. Her hands shook as she opened the letter from the landlord. “Thirty day’s notice,” she shrugged, though she wanted to cry. “Where am I going to find enough money to pay the landlord?”
Mrs. Winters stood and walked over to Amanda, putting an arm around her. “You will find your way through this. You have me,” she squeezed her extra hard; then pointed to the heavens. “And you have the good Lord, too. He even takes care of the sparrows.”
Amanda laughed lightly, and wiped away a tear. “Do you know what Samuel said he saw today?” She threw her hands in the air. “A flying wagon. I mean of all things. That boy truly has his father’s ability to imagine the impossible.”
Mrs. Winters smiled.
Amanda picked the second letter off the table. She didn’t recognize the return address. “Do you know any Peterson’s of Raleigh?” She looked at Mrs. Winters.
“No, Dear. Afraid not.”
“Hmm,” Amanda opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. A check fell out. She picked it up and gasped.
“What is it?”
“It’s a check. Levi must have finally...” Amanda’s hugged the letter to her chest. “He won a writing contest. He never told me he entered.” She looked down at the check again. Fifty dollars. It was enough to cover the rent and to keep them fed for another month.
Mrs. Winters smiled. “God’s looking after his sparrows.”
Amanda nodded, “It seems so.”
Mrs. Winters leaned against the doorframe. Samuel was running in circles, his arms stretched wide, mimicking the large wooden bird in the sky. “I think you should see this,” she said to Amanda.
Amanda set the last plate on the table and stepped outdoors. Her heart warmed to see her son the happiest he’d been since his father’s death. A shadow passed overhead and she looked up. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the enormous contraption moving so gracefully through the air.
Mrs. Winters chuckled, “If God can keep that thing in the air, I think he can keep you from catastrophe, too.”
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Found it poignant and realistic and so very well written! Thanks!
Good way to show how God will always provide
few red ink spots :- would you say 'he spit'? I think spits or spat is more grammatically correct for third person and is Amanda a likely name for 1903 certainly in UK it would have been an unusual one at the turn of the century and it is a much more modern one.