Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: HERO (10/01/20)
-
TITLE: My Daddy Died | Previous Challenge Entry
By larry troxell
10/08/20 -
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
The week before my Daddy was forced down a mountain by a mule spooked by a falling tree striking an outgrowth of rocks. Daddy was cutting wood from our seven acres to sell to the charcoal plant. Rocks dominated our property but there were a scattering of small trees called bugwood. Daddy was a carpenter but work was slow and we were hungry. He resorted to cutting and selling timber to have pinto beans and cornbread on the table.
Our house was small but plenty of holes sprinkled the roof allowing rain to enter. Mom rarely had enough pots and pans to catch the cold dripping water. Some would call it a shack but to us it was home.
My Daddy had a failing heart and the logging accident was too much. He died the next day after encouraging me to grow to be a loving man.
I recall the early pictures of Daddy when he tried to be a city boy. Wearing a suit and hat. But he was a carpenter and my parents returned to the mountains of Kentucky to begin a family even though surviving would be trying.
Christ became the focus of my life when I accepted Him in my early teens. I became the first in my family to graduate from Bible college after winning the Most Likely to Succeed honor in high school.
My degree in education and journalism led to a newspaper position. Later I formed a construction company building homes and remodeling kitchens and fancy baths. I enjoyed nailing the final shingles on rooftops. The breeze would cool the perspiration soaking through my sawdust covered shirt as I straddled the ridge remembering Daddy.
I also recalled Daddy in church singing and praying the Psalms. Occasionally I climbed to the highest point of the mountaintop where I became a young man. Here, among my prayers, would be thanks to God for Daddy, my hero.
Three girls were born to my Mom and stepfather. The family continued to live in the shack of a house. In early adulthood, my brother and I constructed a new home for them. I believe Daddy would have been proud.
Once when I was having a tire changed, the mechanic asked if I were James’ son. I replied in the positive. He smiled and told me what a godly man my Daddy was and he was honored to have known him. At my stepfather’s funeral years later, my Aunt Elizabeth gasped when she saw me. She thought I was James for a moment.
My brother and I didn’t know what death meant as Daddy breathed his final moments decades ago. His life dramatically influenced mine as has Jesus, the carpenter. Daddy died at 32.
I was three.
Non-fiction. The deathbed scene is created from stories told by my Mom.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
Only one point I would like to make. Check your punctuations. There should be commas before ‘but’ .
Well done and keep on writing.