Imagine there were once two small stones who lay near one another in the streambed of a rushing river. As the years went by, dashing water and larger rocks both tumbled over them, and eventually the relentless conditions ground the first into smaller and smaller pieces until it was an unrecognizable heap of sand. But something different happened to the second stone.
Instead of getting worn down by the surging flood, it simply stood fast and let the water polish it into a smooth, gleaming pebble. Instead of getting crushed by the grinding force of the other rocks, it simply rolled past, moving slowly down the river. One day, it arrived at the sea, and all was gloriously calm.
Now, dears, you can probably see where I’m going with this, but let me ask you a question: as the river of life passes by, do you let the hardships polish you or shatter you?
It’s so much easier to shatter, isn’t it? It feels like the constant trials and pressures of life cannot help but grind us into sand. It’s not hard to just give up and give in to self-pity. In fact, it’s far too easy, for me at least. And sometimes it almost feels good, in a miserable way.
But we’re missing the point – or rather becoming bristling full of points instead of allowing them to be smoothed away. How we react to adversity profoundly influences how others perceive us, and this is especially important for Christians. Since we put our identity in Christ, it influences how others perceive Him. If we act like God’s not strong enough to carry us through everyday life, it begs the question, how in the world could He carry us through death? We’ve got to show the world that trials don’t define us – God does.
Here’s another way to look at it. The other week in small group, one of the men was talking about how problems can come between us and God, and he compared it to an eclipse. I thought that was a really good analogy. Our worries are like the moon orbiting the earth, until one day they eclipse everything else. Did you guys watch the last eclipse? Do you remember how the moon hid the sun? Its dark circle looked just as big as the light, even though you knew it was really many times smaller.
So when it’s dusk in daytime and everything slips sideways and you are falling off the edge of the world, don’t forget, dear, the sun will come out again. It’s still there, shining and shining, and however big and dark the moon’s shadow seems, the sun is infinitely bigger and infinitely brighter, and in its blazing light, all shadows fade away.
So when hardships surround us and we do not break, when people wonder why we’re still fighting, we tell them, we persevere because we have a hope beyond this world. We tell them, because when we hit rock bottom, the Lord is polishing this rough stone into a diamond of such brilliance that it will reflect his glory far brighter than before. And we tell them, it takes harsh sand to grow a pearl.
Grow a pearl, dear. Be a diamond. Shine, don’t shatter. And when adversity threatens to eclipse all, hold fast to the Son.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. – James 1:2-4
Today I am super excited to bring you the most requested post from my poll: a post of pen pal ideas! 😀 We’re going to look at gifts that you can send your pen pal in an envelope, fun things to include in your letters, envelope art inspiration, and more!
In this day and age (wow, I sound so old XD), a little handmade goes a long way. Emails are wonderful (and let’s admit, a lot faster), but you can’t beat the feeling of receiving a personalized package that a friend put time and effort into, just for you. I get so excited every single time I get a letter. ♥
Any letter from a pen pal is a treasure, but I love to think of ways to make each thoughtful little package even more special. Hopefully you enjoy reading through these ideas and maybe you and your pen pal will be inspired to use some of these ideas in your next letter!
I’ve been collecting some poems in a draft for a while now, and today I thought it’s about time to share them. 😉 I quite enjoy writing poems, and I’m so glad that you guys have enjoyed reading them so far! Hopefully that trend shall continue. 😛
Ahem, shall we begin?
moon hammock
the moon through
bare black branches
becomes a lacy hammock,
spun with delicate glowing threads,
and suspended from stars.
cradled inside,
the man in the moon
watches the people below
hurrying and worrying
about their day,
and smiles softly.
for he knows how big a problem is
in a universe
millions and millions of miles wide.
he looks at the stars and knows –
not big at all.
home
we’re back again,
back to our memory foam house
that remembers how we sat
and laid our heads
and walked the floors
and made the beds.
it welcomes us back again,
back into the old nooks and
comfortable crannies.
we slip back into
the familiar grooves,
take our old places
in hearts and homes,
and smile the smile of
back again.
we were trying to carve out
new places for ourselves,
new dips in new pillows,
new ruts in new roads,
new places in new hearts,
but carving is hard work,
you know.
so for now we snap
back into place
like a seven-piece puzzle,
and breathe a sigh of relief.
we’re home again.
wildflower
they called her
brown-eyed Susan.
she was a wildflower,
her beauty fresh and pure
as sun rays and raindrops, with
wind-blown hair
and dewdrop eyes,
poppy petal lips
and a bright daisy smile.
she lit up her meadow
and spread her heart wide.
but wildflowers stay
only for a season
and then they
…
f a d e a w a y.
first world problems
this page won’t load,
the internet is slow,
and my tv only covers half the wall.
they’re out of organic,
i ate too much,
and i had to make that crust from scratch.
my purse must weigh ten pounds in coins,
they only take cash,
but no one has change for a $100 bill.
i have nothing to do but sleep,
but there’s not enough time in the day,
and i need to get away from all this stress.
maybe i’ll go to africa.
roses
once i wandered through
an old abandoned house
whose bones had broken long ago.
and in the cellar,
hanging in the dark,
i found roses.
they were tied to the ancient rafters
with brittle, yellowed thread,
fragrant with the soft, crumbling scent
of nostalgia.
i touched a faded petal and wondered
how something so old and fragile
could still be beautiful.
and i wished
to grow older
with all the grace of
dying roses.
the voiceless
we are the voiceless;
hear our silent cry.
our eyes have never opened,
our ears have never heard,
our lips have never spoken,
but if we could, we would say…
why do the ones who gave us life,
bring us death?
what have we done
that we should die?
_
people say,
the color of your skin
doesn’t matter –
it is who you are inside.
but does your size matter?
if your heart is too small,
perhaps it does not matter
what it holds,
if it will never get a chance
to tell.
_
we are the voiceless;
hear our silent cry:
we are innocent.
you cannot prove us guilty,
but we still die –
helpless.
hopeless.
voiceless.
**********
*sniff* Why is it so satisfying to write sad poems? :’) What do you think – do you like writing sad or happy poems/stories best? Which do you like reading best? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these and I’d love to know which poem was your favorite!
Also, before you go, could I ask a favor of you? I have sooo many post ideas and not enough time (and data XD) to post them, so would you help me choose which ones to post first?
Thank you so much for your feedback, dear readers. ♥ Have a simply lovely day. 🙂
“Our finest gifts we bring… to lay before the King.”
Blankets and wool against the cool.
“So to honor him… when we come.”
Kneel down, creaking sounds; bow low, down we go.
My father and the other shepherds knelt beside the manger in awe, but I stood back. I had come to see a king, and here was a child wrapped in dirty rags and laid in a feeding trough. I had come to see a palace, and here was a drafty stable shed. I had come to honor him, but he didn’t even look at me. The baby’s eyes were closed and he slept silently.
But then I remembered what the angels said, and a thrill of fear pierced me again at the thought of their thundering voices and blindingly bright faces, faces that had seen God Himself and yet deigned to appear to us, the lowest of the low. Shepherds. They had said, “You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger,” and at the thought, they had been filled with such ecstasy that they poured out the most beautiful and terrible song I had ever heard, with a thundering, pulsing beat that made my heart ache in reply. And they were right. There you were, sleeping among the stiff rags and coarse hay.
Remembering this, I knelt – out of obedience at first. But when you opened your eyes and looked straight into mine, I knew that you were no ordinary King: you were our Messiah, our Savior, the long awaited perfect Lamb, better than any unblemished sheep we raised for the temple. For in your new-opened eyes I saw the wisdom of eternity, and a love more beautiful and terrible than the song of the angels. Love for me, a lowly shepherd boy, a little drummer.
I longed to give you a gift then, a gift worthy of such a King. But I had nothing.
Little Baby, I am a poor boy too. I have no gift to bring That’s fit to give the King.
I looked down at my feet in shame and there was my drum. The only thing I possessed. It would not do much good to give it to you, but maybe… I raised my eyes humbly to your mother who was watching you with worship on her calm and tired face. I asked her if I could play for you. My father held out a hand to stop me, but your mother smiled and nodded.
The night was silent then. Silent but for the rhythms in my memory, the precious stones I had collected on our journey until I had a chance to drop them one by one onto my drum. Now I let them go.
Tha-THUM. Pa-RUM.Tha-THUM. Pa-RUM. The piece started slowly and softly, to the deep beat of my own heart. Rip, strip; rip, strip. I added the comfortable beat of sheep chewing up grass.
The song was gaining strength, but it was still hungry. I fed it more rhythms, dropped more stones: The heartbeat quickened and pounded as the angels appeared, then the tempo scattered and broke into the complicated, powerful roll of the angels’ hymn that had nearly ripped my heart out when I listened. Finally the heartbeat slowed again, accompanied by the slap of our footsteps traveling to meet you. And then everything sped up and crashed together at the moment when you looked at me and I saw a Redeemer in your eyes.
I thought I was finished, but the rhythm took hold of me and I played a song I did not know, a song I had never learned. The staccato tempo of the donkey’s feet carrying your mother here. The cries of pain as she brought joy into the world. The first breath of a new life and yet a life that had always been. The sound of a thousand thousand hearts beating in unison, aching with longing for a King, a Savior to heal up the cracks where sin seeps through. And the shivering bleat of a perfect, unblemished little lamb who held deep power inside.
The song swelled and grew as I added each new rhythm, flying upwards and outwards until it blended with the billowing, whirling wind outside. The pulses crept under my closed eyelids and traveled with a delicious tingle down my cheeks and into my mouth, where they piled so high that the corners of my lips stretched up to hold them all. Still they kept seeping in until at last they overflowed and burst out my mouth in a jumble.
The laugh bounced off the drum with the rest of the precious stones, then followed them over the side, single file, until the only stone left was the soft, deep thump of my heartbeat. At last, it too danced off the drum and the world was silent once again. I sighed, satisfied, my gift completed.
I opened my eyes and looked at you. And you smiled at me.
**************
Well, that was fun! Maybe not the best thing I’ve written, but something I’ve been wanting to write for a while. I know, I just posted a Christmas story… sorry ’bout that. (I promise I will cut down on the writing and Christmas-themed posts and get back to normal after December. XD)
But I just love the Little Drummer Boy song. It’s such a sweet and powerful reminder that we, too, have nothing fit to give our King – and yet he laid down his life for us. Though we crown him with thorns, yet he smiles at us. The least we can do is play our life song to him in gratitude. ♥
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the little story and Christmasy pictures. 🙂 And MERRY CHRISTMAS, GUYS! I hope you have an absolutely stupendous one. ♥
Heyyy, guys! DID YOU KNOW IT’S ALMOST CHRISTMAS? Oh, you did? Well. Anyway, speaking of Christmas, I entered the “Write Christmas” writing contest (see details here), and I wanted to show you guys my submission today! 🙂
First, can I just say that writing an 800-word story is REALLY hard? I mean I love writing short stories, but this was a very short short story. O.o I edited and fiddled with it and finally got it down to exactly 800 words. XD
At the same time, a small word limit was quite helpful for practicing tight, clean writing, which I loved. Okay, enough about that stuff – here’s the story! I put the prompts I used at the end so they don’t spoil anything. 😉
Christmas Coal
William heard them whispering when they thought he was asleep. He wasn’t asleep because he was cold; that was what they were whispering about. The coldest Christmas Eve anyone could remember, with no coal to guard them from the gnashing, growling, wild wind that clawed through their leaking walls.
The boy’s heart ached as his mother’s whisper turned to a sob, and he wished longingly that he had money to get them coal for Christmas. But he had nothing – until the wind swept an idea into the room. William brushed his black hair out of his face along with the cold, dark thoughts, and fell asleep smiling.
The plan recycled itself through his head the next morning when he catapulted into the snowy streets. Every night on Christmas Eve, St. Nicholas appeared in the town square to spread gifts to children gathered there. But before he did, he always asked if they had been good that year, else they would get naught from him but coal. A bag of coal, and just for being naughty!
William’s first victim was a horse and carriage. He darted in front of a strutting gray mare, shouting and waving his hands until the horse reared back in terror, nearly slamming the carriage into an iron railing. There, he thought grimly. Surely that was naughty enough for a bag of coal. But as he spun around to leave, the driver clambered out of his seat and rushed toward the boy, whose eyes widened as he was met not with a box to the ears, but an embrace.
“Oh! What a brave one ye are, lad! M’horse wouldna be prancin’ so pretty if na for thee. Who could ha made so deep a pit right in t’middle o’ t’street, I canna fathom, but I bless the good Lord who sent thee today.” The old man winked and pressed a silver-wrapped chocolate into the boy’s palm. He watched blankly as the driver remounted and carefully maneuvered his steed around the snow-covered hole. All that risk for nothing! Ah well, at least he had thought of a second plan.
William shuffled slowly along the sidewalk, waiting for an older boy and girl to pass. When they did, he rushed between them, holding a sprig of mistletoe above their heads. The boy and girl stopped and glanced at each other with delighted smiles of recognition, then at the leaves in the air. The older boy chuckled awkwardly. The girl blushed and murmured something. Suddenly, to William’s horror, they kissed, right under his hands! He drew back in disgust, but not before the girl had pressed a golden butterscotch into his hand.
“I’ve been waiting so long,” she whispered happily. “Thank you. And Merry Christmas!” The boy only nodded in confusion and stumbled off, leaving the two talking and smiling together. How could this have happened again? At this rate he was never going to get his coal!
But as the afternoon wore on, each new plan was received with gratitude and a piece of candy instead of the angry words he eagerly anticipated. Why was it so hard to be naughty now, and so easy the rest of the year when he tried to be good?
Finally, as night arrived, William had one last chance. There sat a bag coal, waiting temptingly on the doorstep of a shabby house for him to snatch it up and race home. But his hand was stayed by snatches of a carol sung in a sweet, high voice nearby. “Do you know what I know? A child, a child, shivers in the cold – let us bring him silver and gold, let us bring him silver and gold!”
The boy stopped. He pulled his thin jacket closer around him and closed his eyes miserably. If the High King had given up Paradise to shiver in a cold stable that he might warm the icy, sinful heart of all the world, how could he steal warmth from a stranger who might need it more than he? William knew the answer: he couldn’t. He would gather some wood from the park, and though it wouldn’t burn long, it would warm his family for a bit. And at least he had the candy.
But William gazed at his handful of gold and silver sweets in his palm, and then looked up to see the caroler standing near. She was very small and thin, with dirty red hair and hollow cheeks. Her eyes were bright, and she was smiling at him.
All at once he stood up and held out the candy. The girl gasped with delight. Then she caught up the bag of coal behind him and held it out too. “Take it, please,” she beamed. “It’s an extra bag. We call it Christmas Coal.”
*********************
Prompts Used:
Ah, that was fun. 🙂 I hope you enjoyed reading it, dears! And since this post is so short, I thought I’d include some of my favorite Christmas songs/videos I discovered this year. The first one is hilarious, and the other two are just beautiful (and did you know the second one is sung by a fifteen-year-old?!). ♥ Let me know which one was your favorite, and Merry Christmas! 😀
Hey, guys! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving if you live in the U. S. I sure did! Each of our three celebrations was delicious, and it was fun getting together with family. 🙂
Anyway, today I decided to share a few more of my poems, since you guys seemed to enjoy seeing the last ones and I seem to enjoy writing them. 😛 Again, they’re unrhymed poetry because number one, I am NOT very good at putting my thoughts into the boundaries of rhyme, and number two, I like the free, flowing feel of unrhymed poetry. Don’t get me wrong, rhyming poetry is amazing too, I’m just not good at it. XD
GUYS, THIS IS THE LAST CPC. :O I’ve enjoyed coming up with ideas for this super neat and creative challenge, but I will also be glad to get back to normal posting. 🙂 I hope you like this final entry: the sequel so many of you guys requested to my last CPC post. Here’s a little refresher from the previous story…
And so as they walked slowly back to Aeryn’s house, he gradually pulled their past out of the mist. And the twins, listening with wide eyes, almost wished it had stayed there.
Ready to uncover the secrets of the twins’ past? Okay, let’s do this.
Prompts Used: 2
Photos Submitted: 2
Art Submitted: 5
Total Points: 17
~ e x p e d i t i o n {Part 2} ~
“All this started way far back and a long, long time ago; so far and so long that you have to close your eyes to see the palm trees waving and close your ears to hear the ocean whispering at you.
There now, you see it? That’s my island. It isn’t really mine, but I like to think so, and that’s where the problem is. Everybody likes to think it’s their island.
“As far back as our minds can reach, there were two different kinds of people who lived there and two different kinds of people who wanted it for their own. One was white like you, one was black like me. And they hated each other. If you set your foot on the wrong side of the island, the side where the other folks’ lived, you weren’t gonna come back anytime soon. In fact, you weren’t coming back at all.
“Both people invented all sorts of ways to hurt each other, and the worst way was banishment. They built a rickety ol’ boat whose main feature was its leakiness, then they trussed you with vines, plopped you in that boat and shoved you off to drown, starve, sink, or all of the above. Sometimes, the two sides even banished their own people, particularly if they weren’t strong or looked funny. See, both sides thought maybe if they weeded out all the weak people, they’d finally be strong enough to conquer the other side.
“But sometimes the weak ones were really the strongest and we didn’t even know it. There was this girl…” Terence swallowed hard. “I’m mighty ashamed to tell this part, but I have to. There was this girl who looked the strangest I’ve ever seen. Some of her skin was black and some was white, all splotched and patched together.
“We hated that girl. I hated that girl. We wanted to banish her, but she was the chief’s daughter and he wouldn’t let us, even though he was always banishing other people. But one day we gave him the slip and sent her off, thinking we’d seen the last of her.”
“But we were wrong. A couple months later, she was back in a better boat, and she had a white girl with her that had one brown eye and one blue.
{via Pinterest} Edited by me.
“And they were friends. Her story is awfully interesting too, but my stomach says there’s no time to tell that one right now.” Terence stopped for a moment on the steep path and panted. “Hey, are we close to your house by any chance? My stomach sure is mad at me.”
“We’re about halfway,” Aeryn said impatiently, “but you haven’t finished the story yet. You didn’t get to the part about us.”
Terence winked at the girls. “Alright, I s’pose a few more minutes without food isn’t gonna make a difference when I’ve managed for two days without it so far.”
Tasha looked horrified, but clamped her mouth shut when Terence began again. “Okay, where was I… oh yeah. When those girls came back, something changed. Their friendship and the fact that Kalea survived shocked my people straight off the wrong path and onto the right one. We realized we would be strongest when we united instead of divided ourselves. And we came up with a plan.
Very strange, I know. XD
“There’s a legend that the white prince started the scorn of weakness because his sisters were… different, somehow. We don’t know how because the prince’s father was so ashamed of them he made sure to keep them hidden – or perhaps they disappeared or died. It’s anyone’s guess. Anyway, the prince’s first act as ruler was to banish the two white twins of a palace servant because twins were not normal, and in his eyes, bad.”
Tasha’s eyes widened. “Where the twins us?”
Aeryn scowled when Terence nodded ‘yes.’ “We never stood a chance, did we?”
“That’s the sad part – you did, once. The prince used to love you two, and your parents were his close friends or something, even though they were servants. The prince was just a normal boy growing up, but as soon as he became ruler, something happened. No one knows what, but suddenly even the sight of someone different blew his top, and it’s said that your parents had something to do with it.”
“Who were our parents?” Tasha and Aeryn asked together, breathless.
Terence shrugged. “Don’t know. Your whole family and past is kinda covered in mystery. The prince took care to keep it that way. But even so (or maybe because of that), you girls have become a sort of legend on our island. I still can’t believe you girls are alive and that I found you!”
Aeryn looked thoughtful. “Yeah, but how did you find us anyway? Where you looking for us?”
“Well not you, specifically, but for people like you who had been banished and might have survived like Kalea did. We figured if we found some of the people the white prince banished, they would be so grateful that we rescued them, they would join us. See, we need all the help we can get if we’re going to unite the island again. And if you girls joined us… well, maybe you could shock the prince back on track too. If you lead us, my people will follow.”
The twins paled. Leave their beloved island to lead a people they didn’t even know existed, in a place they’d never heard of before? Talk to the very one who had banished them?
Aeryn stopped at a tall tree and said shakily, “Let us… let us think about it for a while. Everything happened to us at once. Our whole world and everything we thought we knew exploded in the space of a few hours, and we’re still reeling. But,” she said, trying to smile, “in the meantime, welcome to our… I mean my home!” Terence stepped leaned back to see the tree house and whistled appreciatively.
The girls jumped.
“How did you make that sound?” Aeryn asked curiously. “The one that sounded like a bird?”
Terence raised his eyebrows. “You mean whistling? Shucks, you girls sure have a lot to learn. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you. Up we go, huh?”
Aeryn climbed nimbly up the rope ladder, but Tasha climbed slowly and shakily. “Hey, don’t worry, Tasha,” Terence called from a few rungs below her. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.” He smiled his easy smile at her and she smiled back shyly. Finally they reached the top, and he whistled again when he opened the rough wooden door.
“This is pretty good for two girls, I have to admit! Say, where’d you get all this stuff? And what’s this?” He pointed to a rusty woven-wire basket on wheels that held a pile of treasures – old tin cans, pretty pebbles and bits of sea glass, and a jumbled mess of other things he’d never seen before.
Tasha beamed proudly. “The sea gave them to us. This thing was one of the things we found on our first expedition. We were so little we could hardly drag it up here.”
Prompt picture (not mine).
She selected a battered up pan from the driftwood shelf and set about preparing some clam soup for Terence, who was running his dark hands over the rusty metal cart. “Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this before. It certainly didn’t come from our island.”
Suddenly his eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. “Wait. I just thought of something. All the sudden everything makes sense. What if the prince banished you because you were from another island, one that he was afraid of? The one that all this stuff came from? Maybe he used your “weakness” as an excuse to banish you. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason.” He put his hands on their shoulders and looked into their eyes. “Tasha, Aeryn… we need to figure out your past. It just might be the key to my people’s future.”
________________________________
Dun-dun-DUNNNN! I know that was a cliffhanger, but you’re going to have to wait to see how it turns out… maybe for a long time. XD While I was brainstorming this story, I got an idea for a whole series! Kalea’s story would probably be the first book, the twins’ story would be the second, and I don’t know about the rest. So maybe one day I’ll write a whole book about the twins and you’ll get to see what happens! Maybe… 😛
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, dears, and thanks for reading!
Hey there, my dears! I’m back with another Cameras and Pens Contest challenge! Part of these characters and storyline ideas are from a story I’ve been rolling around in my head for a couple of years. Who knows, maybe I’ll write it sometime. Until then, I hope you enjoy this short story and accompanying illustrations! 🙂
Prompts Used: 3
Art Submitted: 6
Photos Submitted: 3
Total Points: 22
_______________________________________
~ e x p e d i t i o n ~
Aeryn slung her backpack over her shoulder, swept up her long, mocha-brown hair into a loose bun, and headed over to her sister’s house. Her leather moccasins padded silently over the springy path of moss and lush undergrowth that grew up so fast in the island’s rainforest climate. She grabbed a handful of pink berries in passing and chewed them contentedly, humming to herself and wondering if they would find anything interesting on their expedition today. They nearly always found something good after a storm.
She felt the familiar thrill as she raced across the plank-and-vine bridge they had built years ago, smiling as the floor bounced and swayed under her feet and the rough vines slid quickly past her fingers. Had it really been four years since they had built it together?
Prompt picture. Not mine. (Although I wish it was. XD)
Aeryn wondered for the millionth time how many years before that they had lived on this island, or if they had lived her all their lives. She wondered if the world was just water past this island or if there were more islands somewhere else. The current was too vicious and protective to let them get anywhere out of sight of the shoreline even if they’d wanted to leave.
She sighed as she walked straight up to her sister’s wooden door instead of climbing a rope ladder like there was at her own house. That was one of the reasons she and her sister had decided to live separately: Aeryn loved heights and Tasha despised them. She was about to push open the door when she noticed the yellow pumpkin staring innocently up at her from the step.
“Hey, Tash,” Aeryn said as she stepped inside the airy room. The sunlight filtering through the palm-leaf roof danced across her sister hair – hair the exact same shade as hers.
Tasha looked up from the bag she was filling for the expedition. “Yeah?”
“Why is your pumpkin still here?”
“What are you talking about? I threw it out a long time ago.”
Aeryn shook her head. “Then how come it’s sitting on your step again? And hold on, was the scarecrow like that yesterday?”
Tasha heaved the sack onto her shoulder and peered out the open window. She looked surprised to see the pumpkin sitting there and the scarecrow lying forlornly in the dirt nearby. She shrugged. “Huh. Maybe Terence was in a bad mood or something.”
Aeryn followed her sister out of the house, frowning. “I… don’t think so. How could a toucan knock over that heavy scarecrow? It was probably the wind from the storm last night.They argued about it as they hiked down the hill, under towering trees dripping with moss and vines and ferns, past roaring waterfalls that sprinkled their faces, over twinkling creeks, and around huge green-haired boulders.
This picture and the one above are from this post.
When they reached the shore they still hadn’t arrived at a conclusion, but suddenly the argument died on their lips.
“What,” Tasha whispered, “is that?”
Something black and shiny and covered with seaweed sprawled in a heap at the edge of the ocean. Tasha hung back, but Aeryn crept closer and narrowed her eyes, inspecting the thing closely. She chewed her lip and scrunched her nose in concentration. They had never seen anything like this on their expeditions. She flicked off a piece of seaweed and then screeched, scrambling back in terror as the black thing made a shuddering movement.
“Tasha, it’s… alive.”
Tasha’s eyes widened as wide as they could go, which was considerably wide seeing as her eyes were quite large to begin with. “Is it a beached whale?” she asked in a hushed voice.
In answer, the black heap began to move again, slowly and with what looked like great effort. As it unfolded itself, the two sisters could make out a head and a body, arms and legs, and rumpled gray clothes.
And a face. A face like theirs and yet completely different. While the girls both had light brown hair and lightly tanned skin and light periwinkle eyes, everything about the stranger was dark: curly black hair and glistening black-brown skin and black-brown eyes to match.The stranger just stared dazedly at them for a while as if trying to sort something out in his head, and then spoke in a soft but oddly deep voice. A voice like the rich bitter-sweetness of cacao beans, Tasha thought. “I’m not a whale. I’m a boy; Terence.”
The girls blinked and backed away. This was getting way too strange. For one thing, what on earth was a boy? And for another thing, Terence was their pet toucan, not this… whatever it was… this chocolate person.
Terence laughed a raspy but booming laugh, and the girls jumped. “I guess you never heard of boys, huh? Because you… wow you girls must be The Twins.” He stopped and looked awestruck for a moment. “Thirteen years. Thirteen years on this island, all by yourself. And – just look at you! As like as two peas in a pod.” He shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe it, I sure can’t believe it.”
A hundred thoughts were screaming to be picked up in the girls’ minds. What are twins? We’ve really been here thirteen years? I didn’t even know anyone knew about us. I didn’t even know there was anyone else. Is this Tarence person safe? But finally Aeryn chased down one of the questions, grabbed it by the tail, and forced it out her mouth. “Are you… one of us?”
He smiled, flashing the big, bright white teeth set into his dark face. “Sure am.” He saw them looking him up and down and cleared his throat. “Well, I mean I’m not exactly like you – you’re girls and I’m a boy, you know. See… it’s like with animals. Two different kinds of the same animals, two different kinds of same humans – boys and girls. See?”
When they still looked skeptical, he added, “Well that and my skin is a different color, but that don’t make any difference. Lots of folks are all different colors, but we’re still people, see? We might look a little different on the outside, but our insides be the same colors. Not that I ever checked for certain, you understand.” He flashed another grin and they tried to return it but failed miserably.
Two brilliant butterflies chased each other past his face and his eyebrows jumped. “Oh hey, I know. Okay, so some butterflies gonna be yellow, some gonna be red, others gonna be black, see? But they’re all butterflies just the same, and they’re all downright pretty no matter the color. Make sense? Now, course we’re different from those butterflies, you know, ’cause they don’t even know they’re different colors atall, they don’t even know what colors are, now do they?” He looked at them kindly and they nodded, relaxing at last, understanding at last. “You got me. I knew you would. You’re not scared of me now, huh?”
They smiled a little and shook their heads. Tasha stepped forward just a bit and said shyly, “I’m not scared. I think you’re beautiful. I wish I could have chocolate skin.”
Terence chuckled gratefully. “Naw, you’re skin is good the way it is. I think you’re beautiful too – both of you.” He smiled easily at them, then shook his head in amazement again. “I can’t believe I just been talking to the famous Twins! We all thought you was dead! Aw shucks, I thought I was gonna be dead when that storm come up. That ocean don’t seem to want people to find you, huh? I guess it’s pretty good at keeping secrets. But I’m done with secrets. I’ve had too many for my liking already, so I’ll tell you anything you want to know if you want to hear it. And say, you girls better tell me how you managed to survive all the way out here! But first…” Terence broke off and looked down at himself guiltily. “Do y’all have a place where I could refresh myself? And maybe… get a drink or a bite to eat?”
His eyes gleamed longingly as he spoke the last words and Tasha, the motherly one, could see that he was quite in need of nourishment. Aeryn at last had warmed up to his easy manner and was willing to help him, on the condition he would talk while they walked.
That wasn’t a hard condition for Terence, who routinely also talked while he slept. And so as they walked slowly back to Aeryn’s house, he gradually pulled their past out of the mist. And the twins, listening with wide eyes, almost wished it had stayed there.
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That was rather fun to write. 😀 Did you enjoy this story? What was your favorite piece of art or photo?
Also I know I just posted CPC challenge not too long ago and now here’s another one, so I may or may not just post the next challenge on my CWWC page. (Hmm, perhaps I need to change that title. XD) If you’re interested, I also have the two other challenges I did not post so far on that page as well.
Have a lovely day, lovely people! ♥
***Allison***
P. S. If you’re in the mood for more reading, you should totally check out the latest WordCrafters chapter here! Sarah did an amazing job on it. 😀
(I promise I will cut down on the writing and Christmas-themed posts and get back to normal after December. XD)
They argued about it as they hiked down the hill, under towering trees dripping with moss and vines and ferns, past roaring waterfalls that sprinkled their faces, over twinkling creeks, and around huge green-haired boulders.
The stranger just stared dazedly at them for a while as if trying to sort something out in his head, and then spoke in a soft but oddly deep voice. A voice like the rich bitter-sweetness of cacao beans, Tasha thought. “I’m not a whale. I’m a boy; Terence.”
Allison Marie 