Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Valley (08/10/06)
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TITLE: A Quiet Place | Previous Challenge Entry
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08/12/06 -
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The close-gauged valley was where Mulberry wound its street. The twin hills dipped down to clasp hands and hold a narrow road with a single sidewalk. Each hill had houses nested a third of the way up, the eastern side facing the western hillside. Two story houses – sometimes a third floor – sheltered the coal mining families. Most of German decent, some of Irish, the folk of three or four generations snuggled into each house.
I lived on Mulberry, in the valley, as the older generation dissipated. Many days I ventured to the split in the hills, up a steep grade that curved at the top then leveled off. There among the beech grove were the remains of untold stories of the settlers of Meigs County. Some of them were my ancestors.
Because Grandpa Oat was the custodian of the grave yard, I had no fear of the crowns of hills dotted with marble or granite blocks denoting the remains of great aunts and great uncles, cousins and friends. I often walked with Grandpa to the shed to get a shovel, scraped his tossed dirt away from the hole he dug, and later shoved soil with my foot to help fill a new grave.
It was in this grove of trees and graves that I met with God. I could hear Him walk on top of the trees as the breeze ruffled leaves. He was next to me as I straddled a tomb stone, bowed in prayer. And when tears wet my cheeks, my Lord, whispered peace to my heart. Here in the cemetery where I could look into the valley, I bonded with God.
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