Witches/Cowboy




	WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart" October 30, 2003 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to your latest issue of "Write 2 the Heart" You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription or a friend generously forwarded their copy to you. To subscribe send a blank e-mail to subscribe@write2theheart.com. ------------------------------------------------------------ Today there two stories of Halloween memories in this issue. Pamela tells us what happens when a little witch has got to GO! Mary-Ellen writes about the memorable time of taking her little brother trick or treating for the very first time. ------------------------------------------------------------ Where Witches Go By Pamela Jenkins ------------------------------------------------------------ Halloween was one of my favorite holidays when I was a child. My brother and I looked forward to All Hallows Eve with as much anticipation as Christmas. We liked the chance to play dress-up and gather candy and sweets in the cool, autumn night. There were no store bought Halloween costumes for our family when I was a child. My mother would raid her box of hand-me- downs and cast off clothing from her closet and we would create our own designs. It might be old flapper dresses and costume jewelry, or my Dad's work clothes topped off with a Mexican sombrero. Our mother would then set us down and paint our faces. Usually it was just her own cosmetics she used but with artistic flair she would create a masterpiece of disguise. We would giggle and laugh, and pose for pictures before we left the house. My parents would drive along slowly and follow us through the neighborhood while my brother and I knocked on doors and yelled "Trick or Treat!" We danced with excitement in between the houses, hurrying along to try to fill our pumpkin buckets with as much candy as possible before our parents would declare it was quitting time and drag us protesting back to the car for the ride home. The year I turned four, I wanted to be a magical witch for Halloween. Somehow we managed to pull together a witch's costume complete with a cape and little broom. My mother painted my face a funny green and drew warts and big bags under my eyes. I was very proud of my look as we left the house couldn't wait to run out that door to a world full of free candy. After an hour or so, my dance of excitement turned into a dance of another kind. In my hurry to leave, I had forgotten to take care of necessary business. It wasn't long before my small bladder was causing me a lot of anxiety. I knew if I mentioned my problem to my parents, they would leave right then and take me home. No more trick or treating for the evening. What a predicament! If I were really magical, I thought, I would pop myself home and then be back here in a jiffy. Finally my Dad noticed the problem and whispered, "Do you have to go?" I nodded with tears in my eyes. I had waited so long I wasn't even sure I would make it home without embarrassing myself. But Dad had a solution. "Let's step across the street to Dwayne's house. He might let you in to use his bathroom." Dwayne was my Dad's coworker and we had visited there before. I knew right where their bathroom was located and the idea seemed like a blessing. Doing a fair imitation of an Irish jig while I stood next to my Dad, I waited while he rang the doorbell of Dwayne's house. Just then another group of children ran up the sidewalk. By this time I wasn't worried about getting more candy. My mind only thought of making it to the facilities in time. Dwayne opened the door to a chorus of trick or treat chants from the other children. I didn't say a word, however. I just bolted past his legs and ran through the house like a witch on her way to a fire. I heard Dwayne's wife give a startled gasp. I'm sure the last thing she expected to see was a tiny witch, cape flying, racing through her house and slamming the bathroom door. A few minutes later, much relieved and with dignity intact, I made my way back to the front door where my family was waiting. By this time darkness had fallen and I knew our candy scavenging was over for another year. Dwayne and his wife were very gracious about our unexpected visit, though, and gave my brother and me extra homemade cookies before we left. Back in the car, my mother groaned, "We'll never be invited there again." It seems that I had caused a bit of an embarrassment and many apologies were given while I was out of earshot. Dad just looked back at me and winked. I knew that he understood. When you gotta go, you gotta go, even if you're a magical witch! Pamela Jenkins bunnies-n-birds @ juno.com 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 ---------------------------------------------------------------- Pamela Jenkins lives on a small farm in Oklahoma with her husband of twenty-three years and their four children. She is the office manager of a veterinary clinic and enjoys writing in her spare time. She is a coauthor to such books as Chicken Soup for the Grandparent's Soul and Chocolate for a Woman's Dreams. You can read more about her on the Writer’s Profile page of our website. --------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------- Cowboy Ken and the Blue Fairy By Mary-Ellen Grisham -------------------------------------------------------------- "Come on, Ken, hurry! We've got to get your spats on. "I don't want to go trick r' treatin'!" "Why not?" "It's dark. I don't know the people." "I'll knock at the doors, and all you'll have to do is open your sack." My four-year-old brother Ken reluctantly stood still while I tied on the cowboy spats over his pair of little-boy jeans. Donned in a cowboy hat, neck kerchief, a small-size flannel shirt, vest, and boots, Ken was one cool cowboy. We thought he would love dressing up because the year before he had been Davy Crockett for the church's fall festival program. He sang three or four lines of the Disney song with the background record when he marched on stage with his tiny coonskin cap, toy rifle, and buckskins. He was such a hit that we thought he would love another dress-up occasion. Not so. Mom, Ken, and I set off to visit the houses just on our street with Ken scowling and twisting all the way. At the first houses, Ken staunchly stood at the curb with Mom while I went to the door. Some neighbors we knew, and the mother of the house would peer out through the dim porch light to see Ken hovering at the curb. Laughing and shouting a greeting, she would send a treat out for him. Other places large groups of trick r' treater’s were at the door, and we would have to wait our turn. At some of these, porch lights would go off while I was urging Ken to go up to the door with me. Kids from the new subdivision at the end of our block were really cutting in on the usual "haul" for the children on our street. Ken realized that his slowness was causing us a problem, so for the last houses on our block, he willingly came up to the door with me. At the last house on the street, a large group of kids came away from the door grumbling and muttering. One girl I knew told us that the lady wasn't giving out treats. Mom turned to go, but I pointed out to her that the porch light was on. "Maybe she is only giving to kids on our street, not to kids from the new subdivision," I said hopefully. Carefully, I took Ken's hand, and we made our way to the porch. An attractive lady opened the door and wanted to know where we lived. I told her three houses down. "Okay," she said, "if you'll come in, tell us about your costumes, and do a trick, I'll give you a treat." Ken squirmed, but I was determined to be one of few on the block to win the prize--in this case, caramel candy apples with drizzles still running on the tray. I thought I was in heaven. Even the tiny nut sprinkles looked "divine." I explained that I was the blue fairy from Pinocchio because Mom read me the story from my big book of fairy tales. I told her I was wearing Mom's wedding dress dyed blue and swished the layers of ruffles impressively. The crown I had fashioned from a new Brillo scrubber, molding it until it was crown-shaped, golden looking, and elegant on my curly brown hair. I explained that my brother Ken was a cowboy and that it was his first year to trick r' treat. There were a few guests, and they began to urge Ken for a "trick." "Like Davy Crockett," I whispered, and Ken's dark brown eyes began to sparkle. I told our audience that Ken was Davy Crockett's sidekick, and nudged him. One man wanted to know what the sidekick did. "Sing," mumbled Ken. Then he began to sing the Davy Crockett song in a loud voice--not just a few lines, but the whole song as he learned it from listening to his record. The adults applauded, and we were given the two best caramel apples I have ever had in my life. Large, carefully homemade, and delicious, they were a glorious treat. Clutching our prizes, Ken and I made our way home with Mom, giggling all the way. While I have some mature reservations about selective treat giving, I was glad that we were the favored few that year--and that I could be Ken's real life "fairy godmother" for his first trick r' treating. We relished the memory for years and felt that we had been specially privileged for that golden moment in time. (c)2003 Mary-Ellen Grisham meginrose @ empowering.com ------------------------------------------------------------- Mary-Ellen is a Christian writer living in Godfrey, Illinois, with her husband and son. Widely published on the Internet, she is currently the Editor-in-Chief of Eternal Ink, a Christian ezine- newsletter. www.eternal-ink.com -------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------- Military Prayer Reminder --------------------------------------------------------------- As you read over this list of names, please take that moment to pray for these young people and their families: Chris Speir Tim Speir Alan Thaddeaus Howard Todd Holland Graham William Julie Sagel Jessie Marshal Thompson Jason Eric Hernandez Kristin Danielson Ken Prieur Ryan Please continue to pray for our country, our leaders, and our troops at this time. If you have loved ones in the military, or who are being called to go overseas, send their names (first and last or first only) to be included in our prayer reminder. --------------------------------------------------------------- Cheryl's Corner Monday afternoon David was hobbling around on crutches. Today he has graduated to a cane. Somehow, he injured a tendon in his leg. Of course the doctor has told him to stay home from work and off of the leg. Which means, I have become his gopher. In all honesty, I have to say he has been a very good patient this time. This is terrible, I have a husband at home and he can’t help me move furniture! God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- © 2003 Write 2 the Heart Nothing may be reproduced or published without the written permission of the individual author or copyright owner. All rights belong to the authors.