Sarah's Words of Wit(sdom)

This is a piece of writing from a story I wrote: The door flung open before Blake could even reach it. His mother stood there, apron tied around her short, stocky figure, flour dusting her graying head of hair. “Blake!” She called to her son. A smile almost bigger than she was spread across her face. “I’m so glad you came!” “You know I wouldn’t miss my sister’s college homecoming for the world.” Blake smiled at his mom, towering over her. Despite the fact Blake was now taller than his mother, he knew that to her, he would always be her little boy. Mom drew Blake into a quick hug, then pulled away. “Well come inside out of this blazing heat!” She scolded him as if it were his fault he was standing outside. Blake stepped inside and scanned the room. Balloons and streamers covered foyer’s ceiling and over the entryway to the kitchen/dining room, a big banner read Welcome Home Lexi! “Wow, look at this place,” Blake sniffed the air like a prairie dog. “Something smells really good, mom,” he...

There’s something with a Rupp family vacation that always turns into a quite interesting story. I wrote this in January of ’08 for a Christian Writer’s Guild assignment. “Was that a bat?” My mom asked with terror in her voice and eyes. “Yes, as a matter of fact it was.” the tour guide at Ohio Caverns in West Liberty Ohio answered. “You’re very lucky to see a bat in the Caverns. Not everyone gets to see one flying down here.” My family and I stopped here on our way to Logan, Ohio to rent a cabin in the Hocking Hills area of Southern Ohio for our family vacation in November. Just as Mom’s heart rate was starting to slow to a normal beat, she caught sight of another bat flying around the corner of the intersecting tunnels in the cavern. She shrieked and grabbed onto my sister. “Sorry,” Mom apologized to the tour guide, “I’m scared of bats.” “That’s alright,” He replied. “You did well compared to some of the other people who’ve come into the cavern scared of bats.” Chuckling, he continued,...

I wrote this in January of ’09 for a Christian Writer’s Guild assignment. Go out on the streets and pray for people? That’s just not my thing. Walking up to a random person and saying, “Can I pray for you?” can prove to be, well, awkward. I made sure I teamed up with the most outgoing, people-loving person I could find. That way I wouldn’t have to do any talking. Holding a box of pop in one hand (or soda, as they call it here in Reading, Pennsylvania), and brochures that tell about who Christ is and how to accept him in the other, I roamed the sidewalks of the busy city, following my partner around. I had full intentions to be the one who handed out the pop along with the brochure and smiled, managing to escape every opportunity that involved speaking. So she prayed for a couple of people, and I did my job; and very well, I might add. Hey, it’s not easy handing out pop and brochures all day. I mean, you have to…to…okay, I’m lying, maybe it is easy. But I’d do anything not to talk to pe...

I wrote this in July of '08 for a Christian Writer's Guild assignment. I lie on my bedroom floor with my hands on my head, The thought of writing a poem makes me want to go to bed; Sighing as I get up off the floor, Day after day, I’ve come to dread this horrible chore; I stare at the blank document on the computer screen Overwhelmed. It’s almost time for my poem to be due, What to write, I don’t have a clue; O poetry, how I loathe thee! It makes me want to flee And go to a place where I don’t have to rhyme, I feel like it’s wasting all my time! This assignment is going to drive me crazy! It’s not that I’m being lazy, I just don’t know what to write, I’ve been trying to think with all my might; Sitting here like a bump on a log, Wondering why my poem makes me work like dog. King Solomon I will never be, Because to me, a tree is a tree! While I write this poem, I must be honest, I’d rather be at the orthodontist! Poetry is an ugly, hairy troll Waiting to jump out and scare me, I...