Down Memory Lane | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Down Memory Lane | Previous Challenge Entry
By Beth B
09/10/08
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She was in town visiting family and friends. They drove near the church. She stared at the building. She hadn’t seen it since the day she exchanged her wedding vows. The structure and parking lot looked smaller than she remembered. It had changed: a new name, a new look, a new pastor. But there was a spark of recognition. She watched as a few people mingled outside after Sunday services. She chose not to peek inside. She wanted to remember the way it had been. Oh…the memories… She recalled being invited to church and riding the Sunday school bus. She accepted Jesus as her Savior there, became active in the youth group and taught the five-year-old Sunday school class before marrying. B-e-e-p! The sound of the horn snapped her back to the present.

It was a quiet summer day. She stood on the edge of the street and gazed at the tan brick schoolhouse. It hadn’t changed much, just looked older, like her. Oh...the memories… It was in English class, she learned over the intercom that President Kennedy had been killed by an assassin’s bullet. Seemed like yesterday. In her mind’s eye, she saw a group of junior high girls running around the field during gym class. She could hear noise and laughter down the halls…locker’s slamming. Walking down the middle of the street with friends on her way home was a common event…only moving to the side when cars came. She recalled spending time at her best friend’s house. I wonder how she’s doing. Oh the memories… B-e-e-p! The noise of the horn snapped her back to the present.

Around the corner they drove, in search of the familiar white house, with the screened in porch…her father’s childhood home. No sweat, she could find it. An address wasn’t needed, she thought. But the house was nowhere to be found. Houses were missing, destroyed by fire and neglect. Through the years the community and lives had been forever changed by drugs, prostitution, economic hardship and indifference. Oh… but the memories,of this house, she yearned to know.

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