Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "Every Dark Cloud has a Silver Lining" (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (02/28/08)
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TITLE: The Rich Life | Previous Challenge Entry
By Judy Watters
03/06/08 -
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fields of his 100-acre farm, he could see the gardens that the whole family had worked in. As
babies, the children were in the gardens learning to dig holes for the seeds. He closed his weary
eyes as he allowed himself to drift off into that distant past. He could feel the coolness of that
dark rich soil as he helped his offspring to cover up each seedling. The earth…the soil…the
farm…what a rich life.
Yes, life had been good. He thought back to his first years on the farm and wondered how
a poor kid from the Bronx could ever have been so fortunate to end life with so much. It is
strange how things work out in life. What if he hadn't answered that ad for a chef in a small
restaurant in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania? But he had.
He had packed up what little he had and headed to the hills of Pennsylvania. Schanaker's
Diner was in the middle of the town…quaint, quiet…and it held the most beautiful girl he had
ever seen. Not beauty queen beautiful, but plain, sweet, fall-in-love-and-settle-down beautiful.
And 45 years later, she was more beautiful to him than she was that first day in the diner.
They found this run down farm that hadn't been tended to in years and for $2000 and a
whole lot of backbreaking work, they could eventually call it a working farm. It consisted of a
barn, a milk house, two chicken coops and the 1845 farmhouse that looked worse than any of the
other buildings. They moved into the house in September, but it was far from livable. In fact, the
cold winter winds were soon blowing through the upstairs so much that they had to sleep in the
living room downstairs next to the pot bellied stove. That first winter they shared their makeshift
bedroom with the chickens to keep the little ones from freezing to death. There were times when
he wondered why this city kid had thought he ever knew anything about farming.
After that first winter, he had bought two horses to pull the plow. It was hard work, but as
he worked the fields, his eyes were always fixed on the soil that was unearthed. It was as if the
dark furrows that were dug deep into the loose soil mesmerized him. The rich, dark loam had
such a sweet smell…a smell he was never able to put into words…almost delicious.
The Holsteins, pigs, horses and chickens took countless hours of care. But the gardens
became his joy and haven. The family harvested all kinds of fruit and vegetables in those
gardens: strawberries, rhubarb, currants, green beans, squash, pumpkins, lettuce, tomatoes, peas,
corn, carrots, onions…and they were all good.
But the potatoes were the best. You had to dig into that rich soil to plant the eyes of the
potatoes and then in October, you had to dig into the fertile soil again to find those treasures of
huge beautiful potatoes. He repositioned himself in his wheelchair, but never lost sight in his
mind's eye of the dark earth that surrounded the potatoes. He realized then that he wanted to die
on the farm. From the dirt of the ground we come, so to the earth we should return.
He died that October right at the potato picking time. He wasn't able to die on the farm.
The doctor at the hospital would not sign release papers because he said the old man would die
on the way home. So, instead, he died in a sterile room with a daughter on each side of him.
The funeral was at 10 AM and by 3 in the afternoon, Mama and the four kids, now all
grown with their own kids tagging along, grabbed buckets and shovels and headed to the garden.
The earth was calling them. They dug for hours in that sweet dirt. The smell of the potatoes
mixed with the smell of the soil reminded them that Daddy was right there with them, with the
biggest grin because he was home. What a glorious life that had been!
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I'd recommend that you start with a better "hook"--your writing skills are certainly up to it!
The imagery and the sensory details here are lovely.
The point of view seemed to change at the very end. Maybe you could have told it all from his wife's POV, or ended it before he died.
Great writing.
**This SPARKLES**