Creative Writing - Youth

WEN: 2260EE

Exhibitor Name: Jeshua Wickham

Division: Creative Writing--

Class: 04 Short Stories (

“Oh bless you lad! That was a year or more ago. Of course I know the Sanders. Your mother is a good friend of mine. They moved into town when their home was destroyed. Here, I’ll take you there. They live just ‘round the corner from me.” So saying, she led him down main street, and through a couple of side streets. Walking up to a plain, large white house, she knocked on the carved wood door. A girl opened it. “Oh, how do you do, Mrs. George, do come in.” Then, as the woman stepped aside, the girl saw the tall figure standing behind her. A smooth scar ran along his forehead, the dark hair hanging partially over it. A pair of keen gray eyes looked out straight at her. Henry heard her sharp intake of breath. “Henry? Oh Henry!” and she threw herself into his arms. “We thought you were dead. We had no word from you for ages and ages. No one could tell us what had become of you.” It was Lottie. “Oh, but I must tell the others. Mother! Mother! Come quick. Oh Henry, do come in.” Henry stepped over the threshold. He saw his mother hurrying down the broad polished stairs. Her skirts were gathered up in one hand, the other hand ran along the railing. “What is it Charlotte? What has happened?” Then she noticed Henry. “Oh! Oh, my boy, it is you, at last! I never gave up hope.” And she burst into tears as she embraced him. Behind her, a small girl of nine hung shyly back, peeping from behind her mother’s skirts. Faith did not remember him very well. This tall man was a stranger to her. Father’s firm, heavy step sounded in the hall. “Why, what is all the commotion about?” He asked, jocularly. Henry stepped forward. “Hello Father.” “Why, what’s this? Henry? Oh God be praised! It is good to see you son. We had given you up for dead. Mother, where are all the rest, have you told them?” “Oh no, Allen, I was too flustered to give it a moment's notice.” She turned to Faith, “Faith dear, go get your brothers.” She turned back to Henry, “Oh this is too good to be true! We must have a family dinner tonight. I will send word to Sallie May and her husband, and Charlie and Dorothy.” That evening the large house was filled with laughter and merriment once more. Everyone was there. Mr. Sanders sat at the head of the table, leading the prayer in his familiar, steady voice. Mother sat at the opposite end, smiling down on all her children. The recent worries and troubles had streaked her hair with silver, and penciled a few more lines on her forehead. Her eyes held a shadow in them, but her smile was just as bright as before. On her right sat Charlie, and his wife Dorothy, her little ones

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