Ready to write? Try your hand at making something from this:
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Tomorrow has arrived, and another idea has splattered onto this page with it. (Wow, if only it felt that easy, but looked nicer than that. But we're going for regular writing exercise, people, and saving our quality worries for later).
"Shhh, he's coming..." Kate hushes her little sister. Marisa claps both her chubby 4-year-old hands over her mouth to hold in the giggles, only manages to look a pink balloon reaching the popping point, her little pink bow bouncing up and down as she jitters in anticipation.
Kate glances at their mother. She's smiling, her face glowing in the light of the candles they've set up on the table in the backyard. But there's something else that makes eight-year-old Kate pause. What is it in her mother's face? She can't identify it, and is soon distracted by Marisa's excited whispers.
"He's coming, he's coming!" And then she can hear their father's step for herself. Its heavy- heavier than usual? Maybe- but the hope is that that will change. Kate doesn't know what all the heaviness is about, but she wants, wants so much, for it to disappear, to fall away like dead leaves so the spring flowers can grow.
"Honey, I'm- wait, where are you?"
"Outside, hon," their mom calls, keeping her voice normal and nonchalant.
Kate beams as their father steps out from the dark house onto the back porch. "Surprise!"
"What-what's all this, Joanie?" he stutters, turning to his wife.
"We just wanted to make tonight special," their mother murmurs.
He looks at her for a moment, and Kate wonders what their eyes are saying. But then he sits down.
"Well, we'd better enjoy the food now, I'm famished!" And he leads them in grace.
Dinner moves along, the food itself nothing extraordinary about the tuna casserole, Kate thinks. But when they've all finished, and they join hands for the after dinner blessing, she hears her father.
"And Lord," he adds at the end, "we just want to thank you for all the wonderful blessings you have given us-"
What is wrong with their mother? Her eyes are shining with something other than the happiness she carries with her beautiful smile all through the day, and all through the house, Kate notices. Kate kicks at Marisa under the table, and nods to the door.
"Joanie," their father says softly as he gets up and comes around to behind their mother's chair.
Just before she and her sister melt into the shadows of the indoors, Kate pauses and looks back.
"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to make it special, in spite of it all, but I- I don't know if I can do it-"
"It's alright, its alright," he murmurs, over and over again. "He will take care of us, He will," he repeats, rocking her in his arms. Kate slides away like a shadow, still seeing in her mind their father stroking their mother's hair as she sobs quietly. Her dad, trying to be the strong one, even as he shakes inside at their situation. No lights in the house- how will they pay the bill? Kate doesn't know all the troubles inside, but she hurries Marisa into her pajamas and looks at the stars from their bedroom window- well, at least, she looks toward them, but clouds obscure the view.
"Dear God, is it true? Will You take care of us?" she whispers into the night.
...................................................................
Kate closes the diary. Ten years have flown, and these scribbled pages can still bring back scenes from her childhood. She inhales deeply.
"I needed that, I guess, didn't I?" She glances at the face on her phone, and frowns. Its an attractive opportunity, sure this date- but what about the deeper things that count?
A true man. That was what her father had shown her. A true love: that was what her parents had shown her. That was what she deserved, that was what she would settle for. Nothing less.
She sighs, resolves, and does it.
Then her phone rings.
"Mom?"
"Katey-kat? How's it going?"
"Fine."
"Oh?"
"Well, I think I did something right- but it wasn't easy."
"Could be a good sign, dear. Want to talk about it?"
Kate looks over at the picture of her parents on her dorm dresser. "Maybe later." For now, they've said with their lives all she needed.
"Praying for you," her mom says after they've chatted about other things, her voice still managing to sound tender through the phone and miles of physical distance that separate them. No distance between souls, her tone seems to say. Kate smiles.
"Thanks, Mom. That counts a lot." More than she knows.
"He will take care of us, He will..."
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