A Bit of End of Summer Fun

Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
Everyone I know has experienced a rough week so I've decided on a change of pace for my column. Here is a taste of summer to keep my readers happy until next year. Enjoy!

Middle of the Night Fright-short story
One summer night in South Carolina I awakened with a start, my heart pounding in fright, to a sudden crashing noise. Reaching under my bed, I grabbed "Old Louie" the Louisville slugger bat Dad gave me for protection. As I rose from bed and crept out into the hallway a strange cloying scent tickled ny nose. I moved slowly in the moonlit darkness to Mom's bedroom and peeked in. Good, nothing but Mom in bed asleep.
The bare bathroom received a quick check, only the chrome gleamed in the light of the window. Only the kitchen and living room remained to be cleared of danger. I crept soundlessly down the carpeted hallway into the living room. In the semidarkness, the only shapes visible were those of furniture and the TV. However, as I approached the kitchen the odd odor I had noticed earlier, grew stronger and more unpleasant.
Mentally the thought of a burglar raced through my mind, as I warily prepared for anything. I raised "Old Louie" level with my head in a fighter's stance, swallowed hard and jumped out of the living room into . . . the trash can!
As my pulse raced with adrenaline I lowered "Old Louie" and started to laugh at the absurdity. Apparently, the trash can had tipped over, unbalanced when the dust pan slid down underneath it and crashed to the floor.
The kitchen clock read 3:15 a.m. and here I was standing in my pajamas, my hair a rat's nest with an old bat ready to do battle with a trash can. Shaking my head with silent mirth, I cleaned up the mess and went back to bed.

Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie

Written on:
April 10, 2006


After reading the book and viewing the movie based on C.S Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe", here is a poem I wrote that I thought you might also enjoy.

Summer Roses

Images of summer roses,
and snowdrops on noses,
glimmering lights
and angel eyes
mingled with hope in a dream.
All of it echoes my grief stricken screams:
Dad's ashes on snow
scatter, as brisk winds blow
my mind numbs with fear
as my blank eyes stare
at a bewitching cat
perched on a hardwood slugger bat
who dreams of mischief in the rain
while nonsensical words rhyme in my dream:
cottonwood dregs,
and prairie schooner wrecks
or maybe it's the image of woodchuck foes,
those misbegotten voles!
How do you describe the image of honor in glass
before a wind driven mast?
These thoughts and more,
drive me to my knees on the floor.
A simple cry, "Help God!" brings the thought, Harry Potter meets Christ
darkness turns into Life
The cat runs away, as ravens haunt the misty shored glen
I live in.
Time stands on end
as Aslan the Lion, my childhood friend,
trumps Satan, the old witch.
Aslan reminds me that the stone table split.
At last the battle is over. Life eternal wins
and Christ returns to rule again.

Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie

Written on:
April 10, 2006