Pencil in His Hand: A Mother's Journal of Poems, Thoughts, and Stories.

  Opal's Quest You need to get out of the city, Opal. Find a good man. Find love. True love. " Her grandmother's grip on her wrist was surprisingly strong. "Perhaps you will find them in a small country town. Promise me you'll leave once I'm gone." A gunshot and a strangled scream reached them from the streets. The double glazed glass of the hospital windows only muffled the sound slightly. Opal shuddered, but she kept her gaze on the slight, beloved woman on the bed. "Don't talk like that Granny. I'm staying right here until they say you can go home. Maybe when you're stronger, we can move to the country together; start over. You could even keep those chickens you always wanted." Opal's smile wobbled. It was a frail attempt to lighten the atmosphere.  "Sweetie, you'll have to do that for me when you get out of here. Even if I did make it back home, I wouldn't be strong enough to travel. My lungs are giving out. The...

Battle Evil swarmed and swooped thickly throughout the valley. Jonathan's sword slashed to the left and right. Sometimes, it arched through the air above his head, as infuriated hisses and screeches filled the darkness. To Jonathan's left and right, inky blackness was being pushed back by his companions. Stretched across the valley, they marched on, their swords slashing and crashing through the thick air, and bringing limp scaly bodies to the ground. The bright ones could not stop. Victory was not theirs yet, for the evil hordes kept coming. There were more than ever before it seemed, here at the closing of the ages. Jonathan grimaced as a foul creature landed close beside him. It screeched and bared its fangs in final rebellion. But Jonathan kept on. Supernatural strength coursed through his body, as more warriors joined the battle. They were nearing the far side of the valley now. The atmosphere remained black and grim: the battle was far from over. Jonathan's sword coul...

  *** A GERMAN GRANDMOTHER Frieda Brand drove carefully along the rutted farm road leading up to her parents' farm.She soaked in the view. It had been a while since she'd visited.The cherry trees were in bloom and they formed a fairy tale avenue of candyfloss.Even Willem and Karl, Frieda's little boys were quiet as they gazed out of the windows.The bowl of mountains welcomed them to the fruitful Ceres farm. "Welkom, welkom," Frieda's mother Ida greeted them from the spacious and cool veranda. She still spoke with a German accent after all these years. The little ones were out of the car in a flash. Frieda retrieved their bags and followed. The boys had disappeared already, but she knew where they'd be. Sure enough, Willem and Karl were seated at the generous kitchen table, a cookie in each hand. "So, you have come at a good time," Ida announced as she bustled around, putting the kettle on and arranging more goodies on a plate. "This time of ...

   THE SCOTTISH SEAT Beth Arbuckle put the finishing touches on an exquisitely laid table. Rain was falling again on the lush green garden of Larbert House. Beth sighed as she thought of her home in South Africa, where the sun shone freely. She'd chosen Scotland for her working holiday because of a fascination with her Scottish roots. The waitressing job at Larbert House helped fund some sightseeing and research. She walked over to the sideboard where her friend Mandy was hard at work polishing the silverware to a sharp shine. Beth picked up a soft cloth and joined in. "Don't you get tired of all the rain?" She asked, I was hoping to take a walk in Larbert Woods later."  "Well, don't let a little water stop you,"Mandy smiled."Round here we'd never go anywhere if we bothered about the rain." "You're right, Mandy. I need to toughen up a bit. I'll just take my brolly." ****** She enjoyed the solitude as she walked. Shari...

  AN INTEREST IN IRELAND (A mini sequel to "Whispers of Wales.) Here is the link to that story in case you haven't read it   Link *** James Mac Kay opened his laptop, ready to search one more time. He was sitting on the deck of his antique- cum- coffee shop prior to opening time.The waves crashed noisily beyond the railway line but James ignored them. His time was limited. Inspired by his girlfriend Ruby's success, he wanted to search the ships' lists once more. His great-grandfather, Henry Mac Kay, had been born in Belfast. He'd come over to South Africa from Ireland as a young man. James knew he had been a carpenter, just like Ruby's great-grandfather. What's more, James actually owned a book case made by his Irish ancestor. He quickly found the site he liked to use, and typed in the details. James had searched several times in the past with no results. But new records were constantly being added to the site and he hadn't checked in a while. He search...

  Rapture Chronicles: Mark Mark gave Christine a rushed kiss on the cheek before hurrying to the garage. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Go, go, go. Mark's feet complied. This was the soundtrack of his life; along with work, work, work, and worry, worry, worry. He jammed his phone in its holder and jabbed at it before pulling away. His work week had begun. "How's it going?" Neil's jolly face peered into Mark's office later. "Not too good, and its giving me a headache." He pointed at his computer screen. "Prices are up across all departments." Neil's expression grew sober as he stepped into the room. "It's a sign of the times. Along with everything else that's going on. Jesus' return is very soon, that's all I can say." "Could be hundreds of years away." Mark squinted at the screen as he spoke. "Rising prices, wars, and earthquakes are nothing new." Neil shook his head. "Things are getting worse. I...

  Rapture Chronicles: Casey Casey shook her head in disbelief: A runaway fire, torrential rain, and flooding. Plus three tornadoes. All in one day. And one tornado had torn through and area that was considered tornado free. She took a sip of her fast cooling coffee, and her fingers clenched the polka dot mug. At least her area remained disaster free. For the moment. At times like these, she wondered whether she should make mention of of weather events or world news on her You Tube channel. Hers was a homemaking channel. Strictly serene and inspirational. A weekly dose of slow living for hectic souls. And yet, she couldn't help feeling a bit fake. With everything that was going on in the world, Jesus return must surely be close. Casey couldn't shake the feeling that she should be shouting out a warning. Was she lulling her viewers to sleep by focusing on everything nice, and cozy, and pleasing? Casey took a quick swallow of her drink. "But people need a bit of peace Lord. E...

  Photo: Joshua J. Cotten The Bird Feeder Penny watched in fascination as the eager birds descended upon Aunt Tina's bird feeder. The elderly woman had just placed seed in it. Penny moved closer to the kitchen window, not wanting to miss a moment. The male weaver birds with their bright yellow breasts were the boldest. Their soft, brown mates followed their lead, and a flock of sweet sparrows pecked at the fallen bounty on the ground below. Penny smiled a little sadly. How hungry the birds seemed as they darted about and swung on the bird feeder. Still, she doubted that they could be as hungry as she was. Inside, she felt as hollow as the old log in Aunt Tina's rockery. Empty. Alone. Painfully alone since Jeremy had walked out on everything they'd built together over a span of twenty years. Now, she was hungry for hope and for answers. Her whys still echoed three years after he'd closed the door on all she'd held dear. Aunt Tina's kind voice interrupted her tire...

  The Bench It was weird how the sky could be so blue when everything was gray and rainy inside her. Maya let her weary feet take her home as her mind went once more through each messy detail, and then listed her three dismal options. In order from bad to worst. The sound of her scuffed shoes on the warm tar mingled with suburban noises and the jumble in her head. She shifted her bag and wiped her damp forehead with a crumpled tissue. The heat wasn't helping. She was drained. Hopeless. Sinking. A man grinned at her and whistled as she passed, but she ignored him. They all just wanted one thing, and she wasn't playing their game anymore. The park beckoned to her as she neared home. Children were playing in a carefree way on the equipment, but a shady bench drew her. She needed time. Space to think. To breathe. Maya relaxed her weary body and watched the children for a few minutes. She remembered what it had been like to be happy. Her gaze shifted back to the bench, and she saw s...

  An Answer For Adeline All Adeline knew was that she was at her wits end, and ready to throw in the proverbial towel. Having a husband, five children, several pets, and a part time job, meant that she was spinning several plates at once. And, two of those plates were teenagers. Another plate was a challenging marriage. Then there were the careening plates of three busy younger boys, one of whom had recently been diagnosed with ADHD. Her part time job as a receptionist was probably the least wobbly of her plates. That is, until she received a phone call from the school principal during work hours. Often, she’d stay up far too late, whilst she searched for answers to her problems online. How to cope with ADHD in boys, Teenagers and social media, Communication in marriage, How to get your kids to help around the house… Or, she’d watch an endless stream of YouTube videos. Each one dishing out advice about everything from the ideal routine to revolutionize your life, to decluttering s...

  The Lightbearer The Lightbearer kissed his wife and two young children goodbye. He held the little ones and their mother for a long moment, as he whispered softly in their ears. Then he shouldered his pack and headed into the jungle. At first, the trails he followed were well worn by the many feet that had followed them to the river, or to mango or banana groves. But after a while, the paths, though still there, became overgrown in places and harder to find. These trails were used infrequently, and the Lightbearer often had to make use of his machete, as he walked deeper into the jungle. And as he walked, he hummed a little, or sang, or whispered, and seemed to talk to himself. After walking for an hour, he stopped for a short rest. He checked the branches of the tree above him for tree snakes or pythons before sitting at its base, then he took a sip from his canteen and smiled. Life was good. The sun was directly above him as he reached the clearing. Huts encircled its perimeter...

  Salvation  Stories: Gina Gina hummed a chorus from church as she gathered all the needed supplies together: a deep baking pan, flour, sugar, cocoa, oil, and eggs, along with the other sundries she needed to make a sumptuous celebration cake.  Great ! She had everything on hand. She decided to top the cake off with a creamy butter icing and some bright red cherries once it had cooled. As she worked, she sang every worship song she knew, and even did a couple of twirls. It was a good, good day. A great day. And the cake was just right. When they were all gathered around the table later, Gina planned to tell them why they were eating cake in the middle of the week. It wasn't anyone's birthday after all. No, wait! She laughed out loud. She was celebrating her spiritual birthday. After many years of thinking that being good, going to church now and again, and volunteering at the soup kitchen could get her into heaven, she was free! Born again, and made new. Yes, she still p...

  Millie's Project Fran sighed with contentment as she pulled another tray of golden brown, caramel scented cookies from the oven. This one was for Millie next door, who was down with a bad cold. Hopefully, she'd still be able to taste the delicious treat. Fran's home was as old fashioned as her name: the kitchen cabinets dated back to the 1980's, and mint and pink coloured appliances vied for attention amongst knick knacks and bright coloured tins. As for the rest of the house, Fran favoured anything Amish or country, with a little Victorian thrown in. However Harold and the boys might feel about her decorating tastes never entered Fran's mind. It made her happy, and as the old saying goes, 'ain't nobody happy unless Mama's happy.' Fran swished a hand knitted dishcloth over the counter before arranging some homemade treats on a rose festooned plate for Millie. There! That should cheer her neighbour up. *** She found Millie propped up in bed, a box o...

  Un-Distracted Talulla gathered her supplies and allowed a wave of hopeful excitement to wash through her. "Lord, please help me. Please give me the words..." God had laid it on her heart to write this story. A story that could help someone. Now all she needed was time and space. She grinned as she tossed a cupboard key towards her room-mate, Prisca. Her nearly new smart phone was safely locked away inside it. "Remember, only give it to me when I've finished my first chapter." Talulla patted the dumb phone in her pocket. "You can get hold of me on my other number." As Talulla entered the venerable old library, the smell of both musty and of freshly printed books greeted her. She took a deep cleansing breath. In that moment, she felt as though she had all the time in the world. Her story was going to be written, and with God's help, no apps or notifications were going to get in her way. *** Copyright: pencil in His Hand *** Just imagine what you co...

  Her Name Is Hope Her name is Hope. She is the young woman with the plain, honest face, travelling to work each day, with faith in her heart that God will answer her prayers for a husband, children, and home. Her name is Hope. She is the sweet, faithful mom, hanging up her wash, the wind whipping through her hair. As she works, she prays that her husband and children will accept Jesus. Her name is Hope. She clings to Jesus' Hand as her marriage falters then shatters through her husband's unfaithfulness. She keeps walking and hoping because of Jesus. Her name is Hope. The news she received today at her cheerful kitchen table nearly crushed her; and tears fall unceasing: a son lost on the battlefield, a prodigal child driving the knife in deeper, a car accident, an ailing loved one. And yet, she hopes. She clings to Jesus. She does not understand. How could she? But she never stops hoping. She prays, she trusts. She looks up. And once more, as she hangs up her wash in the gentle...

  Escape Ona crept nervously through the shadows. Each step sounded hopelessly too loud in the silken air. Lomi had said not to fear the Darkness. The Darkness, he'd said, was actually a presence; a person. And now, The Darkness had extended an invitation to her, Ona, through Lomi. "A great honour," he had whispered as his burning gaze had sought her wide-eyed one. She had nodded. She knew something of The Darkness and of the meetings which were held in the dense copses and remote caves. Attending a meeting would take her from the edges where she'd been dabbling and into the inner circle. "You desire more knowledge, don't you?" Lomi drew her near, and suddenly, the relationship they shared seemed to be entwined with her decision. "I'll go." She said quietly. "But only if you go with me." Lomi had shaken his head. "No. Each one must go alone. It's safer that way." Lomi's voice was firm, but he toned it down when h...

  A Reason To Clean. A Short Story. Grace shoved the book she'd been reading aside. It was time to put her plan into action. She flicked her long silver plait over her shoulder, and looked around her living room. Where should she start? The title of the book, was "Swedish Death Cleaning." Rather morbid, but on point, Grace thought. She really did have far too many things.  Grace grabbed a roll of rubbish bags and tore one off. She was ready. The author had suggested that one should start with the easy stuff: rubbish, junk, old food, and broken items. That would be easy. She moved quickly through the rooms of her moderate home, and threw anything rubbishy looking into the bag. It didn't take too long. She lived alone. Greg had passed on suddenly a few years previously, and now there was only one "G." Grace had finally parted with most of his possessions. Now it was her own stuff's turn. By the end of the day, Grace had moved on to the kitchen drawers as w...

    A World Beyond. A Free Inspirational Short Story By Alison Lawrence Copyright: Alison Lawrence 2023 All rights reserved "I just can't do it anymore, Hope. This thing is bigger than either of us can handle." Dylan turned away from his wife and looked out of the window. "It's destroyed us, and what we had together." "So, you just want to give up? Walk out on us; leave me to deal with everything?" Hope's anger grew as the terrible reality gripped her heart. Dylan was giving up. "You'll be OK, Hope. I'm just an outsider. You're always busy with Jace. You lost interest in me a long time ago." Hope forced herself to stay calm. She'd dealt with a lot of melt downs over the years. Dylan would come to his senses if she said the right things. "I know it's been hard on both of us. But I am still interested in you Dylan. I love you. Please don't leave." She crossed over to the window and placed a hand on his ...