Night Secret




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" December 11, 2002 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" . ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ Maria's writing talent showed itself at an early age. Even at the tender age of ten, she recognized inspiration and got up in the middle of the night to flow with it. ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------- Night Secret By Maria Harden ------------------------------------------------------------- The girl crept from her bed and tiptoed through the dark house, trying not to rustle the notebook in her left hand. The tiled floor was a shock of cold on her bare feet, and she shivered even beneath the warmth of her flannel nightgown. Her sisters slumbered on, oblivious of her absence, while an occasional soft snore escaped her parents' bedroom. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could make out the old familiar kitchen table, covered with one of her mother's embroidered table- cloths. The faint ticking of the wall clock echoed the nervous thump-thump of her heart. Easing herself into a chair closest to the window, she peered out the frost-covered panes, hoping for a little light from somewhere, but neither moonlight nor streetlight accompanied her nighttime sojourn. The snow on the frozen ground glistened with an eerie silvery-white etherealness, while far away, a lone star blinked in the black sky. Opening the notebook to what she hoped was a blank page, the girl began to scribble the words that had awakened her at 2:25 a.m. Although she could barely see, she wrote anyway, guiding her hand as best she could. Excitement thrilled through her veins as the words spilled out haphazardly, scarcely legible in her eagerness to get them down before they were lost to the night. What was in her heart came alive on paper. It did not take long to complete her mission. Satisfied, she closed the notebook, and stealthily crawled back under the covers of her now-cold bed. She lay awake, trying to calm her mind of the words that continued to race through it, knowing she would be tired in the morning. To be awakened by a persistent need to write was unusual and she hoped sleep would not continue to elude her. Morning came, and despite her weariness, she remembered what she had accomplished the night before. The page in the notebook was not as unreadable as she thought it might be, considering she had written it almost blindly. It needed a little tweaking, but she knew this would be an important piece of work, if only to her. It was a quiet day at school so she had time to neatly rewrite the poem.She always gave her poetry to her fifth grade teacher to read, and then after a few days, received them back with encouraging remarks. During a lull in English class, the teacher returned a sheaf of papers to her, and asked if she would read one of her many poems out loud to the class. Thumbing through the pages, she saw the poem she had written about baby sitting, the one about her neighbour's dog, the one about honesty. No, none of those would do. She would read the new one. The class listened, enraptured, then applauded. One boy asked in awe, "Did you really write that?" "Yes, I did," she answered, pride evident in her response. The teacher smiled and said she had the makings of being a real writer one day. At home, she showed the poem to her parents and they approved of her efforts, although she saw them exchange small smiles. She didn't care. She had written the best poem ever in all her ten years, and knew she would keep it always. Although her teacher had said she would be a writer "one day," the girl knew she already was a writer, now. The Brightest Star 'Twas a dark and lonely night Three shepherds kept their flocks in sight When in the sky there was a star Shining and glittering from afar The shepherds were so much afraid Knelt down upon their knees and prayed "Follow the star," the angels said, "You'll find a babe in a manger bed." Maria Harden ©2002 mharden @ escape.ca (You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to protect our writers from viruses and email harvesting programs. Have a comment on today's story? Send it to: moderator@write2theheart.com) ---------------------------------------------------------------- Maria is a stay-at-home grandma who looks after her four year old grandson several days a week. In between playing Lego, Checkers, Chutes and Ladders, reading Robert Munsch books, and doing sidewalk chalk art in the driveway, she writes about life, past and present. She has several stories in the archives of Write2theHeart. -------------------------------------------------------------- Letters From Our Readers -------------------------------------------------------------- What a lovely story by Denise Sawyer and poem by Pat Bode. I envy the fact that Denise is able to collect the beautiful fall colors in leaves. We don't get the change of seasons in SC. AND, I really miss that! Diane ***** Sometimes I get so carried away with the demands of the season, that I need reminders to walk with God and be thankful for my home and family. Thanks Denise and Pat for those reminders. Sherry --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner I gave our dog an old blanket to bed on in the laundry room. She keeps taking it outside and dragging it to the back fence. I can't get her to leave it in the laundry room. I have fussed till she knows she is doing wrong. The other day I realized what she is doing. There is an old dog chained up in the back yard adjoining ours and she is trying to take it to the fence where he is to share it with him. Who would have dreamed that my son would bring home a dog that displays Christian charity? God Bless Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2002 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. 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