Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: The Short End of the Stick (02/20/14)
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TITLE: Never Poke at a Bear | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
02/27/14 -
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First of all, she is the sweetest little thing you’ve ever seen. We’ve always called her pet names like Baby Bear, Panda Bear, or Huggy Bear. We may have to amend those for something more Big Bear sounding.
Here’s what happened. A group of us were happily chattering about her upcoming and quite impressive solo over at First Church. Bertrina Jenkins motioned for us to be still for a minute while a bunch of incoming were pulling tables together to accommodate their entourage.
Ginger and Clarice stirred their tea with excruciating intensity. I over-buttered a roll…over and over. Marsha and Sue Ellen perused the infinitely interesting contents of the same old menu.
The new group must have been employed in some kind of media work. I don’t know why the Bible was mentioned, but from the clamoring editorials there was no lack of ridicule and contempt.
A nerdy looking fellow wearing a bowtie had a high screech-metal voice.
“Who wrote that sappy stuff, anyway? What a joke.”
One of the expensive-suited women snapped at him.
“What does it matter? It’s all nonsense. I’m tired of all this end-times fairytale fiction. Let’s come up with a good standard reply to those pathetic pseudo-saints.”
A more mature looking man wearing black rimmed glasses must have been the boss.
“Don’t forget, crew. We are still bound to observe that Freedom of Speech thing.”
We looked at each other with some surprise, thinking he might have been the voice of reason, until he snickered.
“Ours…not theirs!”
His snide comment was loud enough to reach us.
“There are ways around that. It’s time to make these Christian yahoos zip their stupid mouths.”
That’s when our darling Becky Bear arose from her seat, and like a gentle breeze, moved over to their table. If the local café flies hadn’t been attacking the glass-domed donut bin, most of them certainly would have ended up in the mouths of the round-table girls.
Becky is one of those stunningly beautiful women; and not only on the outside. Her pure heart is like a piercing light in a dark cave. This sudden ethereal and queenly appearance stopped all conversation. Every fork in the place seemed to freeze between plates and mouths.
She began to speak in a strong, commanding voice.
“You do not have a CLUE about which you speak.”
Slowly, she circled their table.
“It seems apparent that none of you have even read the Holy Scriptures. You have drawn all your foolish opinions from others who probably haven’t read either.”
The nerdy guy swallowed so hard his bowtie bobbled up and down. Becky continued as if she were Gabriel sent with a message. I expected her to say something about fearing not.
“I refuse to stoop to answer any of the blatantly wrong and frightening things I have overheard today. The ridiculousness of your naïve observations would be laughable if they were not so deadly serious.”
She stopped right beside the guy who would be boss and placed her hand on the back of his chair. I thought I saw him flinch…but why would he?
“There is an absolute Truth. It can be mocked. It cannot be refuted. Biblical prophecy is being fulfilled daily. Behavior and technology have become bathed in evil and our very days are numbered. I charge each of you to listen before you find yourselves weeping and wailing and gnashing your misinformed teeth!”
Becky preached with eloquence and fire, accuracy and confidence. The whole place seemed to be on pause.
Suddenly, our fed-up Mama Bear reached into her big purse and produced a worn Bible. She held it up high and spoke with majestic clarity.
“The signs of the time couldn’t be any clearer if they were flashing neon on a huge screen! Remember: There is a God. You will die. There is a Hell. There is also a Heaven.”
With that, she slammed the beloved book on the table and glided out the door with unwavering class. No obvious breathing could be heard. Nerdy tie guy attempted some awkward, misplaced, defense silliness.
Boss roared, “Shut up Erving,” picked up the Bible, and followed her. His pitiful associates shuffled behind.
We didn’t see Becky Bear until Sunday when she sang. One strangely familiar looking man sat in the back, sans glasses, and wept.
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Thanks for sharing!
God bless~