Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: CANDY (04/28/16)
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TITLE: I Promise You | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dot Hannah
05/04/16 -
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May 4, 2016
“She is a gift to me,” I told the Lord as I got on my knees and thanked Him. From the weeks that followed my leaving the orphanage, my sweet new mother and I became inextricably woven together. I could not seem to win my father’s affection, however. He was a very complex man, gruff in his tone, stony faced and totally uninterested in me.
“Underneath there is a tender heart, and you will come to know it one day. I promise you son,” my mother would say time and time again with her kind, gentle voice. I could not put the nagging doubts about the relationship out of my mind though. I obsessively worried about the long silences between us when we found ourselves alone together. He sat in his chair in a quiet corner with a positively benign expression on his face, not uttering a word. I had sweaty palms and a scratchy throat when near him, and if asked a question, he impatiently listened as I struggled to dredge up my reply. As young as I was, almost eight, I prayed for a way to dismiss the tension. How much longer could I live this way, forever on my guard?
I had chores to do every day, and I tried all the harder to do them well in order to please him. I fed the chickens and stacked fresh cut logs for the fireplace we enjoyed on brisk, cool nights. Mother and I would take long walks afterwards through the neatly-defined country side. We talked about everything. My new life was almost perfect, but what I needed most was to belong somewhere, and it seemed my father could not accept me.
As time went by, my father and I became more comfortable with each other. One night as I was setting the dinner table, he came home with a gift for me, my favorite chocolate candy. I presumed it was his way of calling a truce. Suddenly I looked across the room and saw a wholly different person, one who had shared with me a feeling that I’d never known that he had. I could not conceal my astonishment. The iron grip my father kept on his emotions was beginning to relax. He humored me with a nod and a smile and said, “Are you going to sit down or are you waiting for permission?”
I quickly asked, “What are you drinking tonight Father?”
“Water will be fine son,” he quietly said. The air was clearing at last. Reaching across the table, my cheerful mother touched my hand, and I knew she was just as delighted as I was.
She died on a cold, drab winter morning four years later. She was gone, and I would never see her again. Father walked in, bundled in his ancient navy coat, eyes filled with sorrow and hurt. “He needs me,” I thought. Fighting back tears, we collapsed into each other’s arms. I determined that we would lean on one another and a bond would be formed. We had never shown affection for one another, and it would be hard but I was certain I could make him love me.
We were both lethargic in the months ahead, uninterested in life and sadness in our hearts. At last we shared something, loneliness. Our way of life had changed. We sat silently with only the sound of fire crackling in our ears most evenings. “God has always provided for us,” I declared fervently. “He will not forsake us now when we need Him the most.”
Father replied, “Of that I am sure.”
By the time spring emerged, we had tired of our solemn existence, seclusion and endless brooding. In the early afternoons, we took long walks together, as my mother and I had, sharing sweet memories of her. We would never forget her but had a new surge of tender gratitude for one another. We wanted each other’s companionship and became best friends. He often brought candy home to me. It was his way of saying, “I love you.” Before long, we did things that fathers and sons do, such as playing catch, hunting and fishing. What a strange sight it would have been to Mother if she had seen us. I had come to know my father’s tender heart she had promised that I would come to know so many years ago.
I whispered to myself, “If only I could see her again.”
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Some of the sentences seemed to say, 'Now where do we go and what do we say'.
It felt like this piece was a struggle to write and for this I praise your diligence.
Some weeks topic may just not be for everyone. So What? We finished and did our best in the time we had.
Excellent and heartfelt story. It pulsated with emotions and was subtle in approach to the candy, but the topic was there, sweetness not only in "edible" delights, but "emotional."
Well done!
Blessings~
I think you were trying to capture so much heartfelt emotion into 750 words. Difficult to do.
I have trouble staying at 750 as well. I'm always cutting and leaving out details that would make it seem clearer. Not sure if this is what happened to you.
I agree with the last comment. I would have ended the story with the dad and son, eating the candy.