Monthly Archives: January 2016

Playtime

I am joining with katemotaung.com for Five Minute Friday. The goal is to write for five minutes about a word. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

The prompt is:

Time

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Playtime

Abba and little girl played for what seemed like hours. Little girl loved playing with Abba. This was a new and exciting part of little girl’s life. Little girl was so full of life after running and playing and having fun with her father.

Within moments of feeling such joy and life, little girl was bombarded with thoughts of the past. None of her foster fathers had played with her like this before. She had been told that fathers didn’t have time to play with their little girls, especially foster girls. She had been taught that they were busy with other important matters. Playing with their little girl was simply not as important as other things in a father’s world.

Abba was looking at little girl as these thoughts went through her mind. The smile on her face had slowly faded away. He knew her thoughts and he could see the sadness in her eyes.

“Little girl,” Abba’s voice broke into little girl’s thoughts.

Little girl could barely look in Abba’s direction in this moment. The familiar cloak of shame had begun to touch her heart.

“Little girl, let’s go sit together and talk,” Abba said as he picked little girl up and looked at her with delight in his eyes.

“I love you, little girl. You’re worth every moment I spend with you. I have all the time in the world for you and I love spending time with you. Nothing could be more important to me than being with you and seeing you filled with joy. And always remember, I am your father.”

Abba’s words pierced little girl’s heart. His words and his actions shouted so much louder than the lies little girl had been told about what fathers were like.

Little girl looked at Abba with excitement in her eyes, “Can we go play more?”

Abba set her down and started running, “Come on. Let’s race!”

Little girl started running. The shame and fear left her as love and joy filled her heart again.

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Abba’s Son, My Brother

I am joining with katemotaung.com for Five Minute Friday. The goal is to write for five minutes about a word. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

The prompt is:

First

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Abba’s Son, My Brother

I heard Abba calling my name from a distance and I ran and ran until I jumped right into his arms. I could hardly believe all he had done for me. He treated me like I was his first and his only child. He treated me like I was his favorite. In fact, I decided that his love was so awesome that it was enough for me and every other child. I wanted him to adopt more children so that we could all love each other and love Abba and have a big family.

He held me in his arms. We looked out at the rolling hills and the distant sea. It was all so beautiful. It felt like everything was perfect as Abba held me close. I knew I was safe in his arms.

“Little girl, I have a very important person I want you to meet. Would you like that?” Abba asked, knowing my eagerness to take in anything from Abba.

A grown-up man with an olive color complexion walked up to us. He was medium height and his hair was a sandy brown and shoulder length and he wore the most beautiful clothes. They were white and he wore brown sandals. His deep brown eyes peered at me and it felt like I was looking in Abba’s eyes. The same love I saw in Abba’s eyes was in his eyes. There was both a softness and a fierceness in his eyes and in his gaze as he looked at me. He looked just like Abba.

“Little girl, this is my son. He’s been wanting to meet you for a very long time,” Abba said with a twinkle in his eye, filled with delight to introduce us.

Abba set me down and Abba’s son knelt down to my level. He put his hands out for me to take hold of. I couldn’t help but stare at his hands. They were dark like his complexion. They looked used and abused. I hadn’t seen hands that looked like this before. They seemed much older than he looked. Then I saw something I’d never seen on anyone’s hands before. There were deep scars the same place on each hand near his wrists. The scars looked ancient, and it seemed that the wounds that caused the scars must have been terrible.

I felt so sad for a moment and then I looked back into his eyes. I could feel his love for me the same way I’d felt Abba’s love for me soon after I came to his house. I knew this man who was my older brother loved me a lot. I had waited for so long to meet one of my siblings so I was overjoyed to meet him. I also felt this sadness for him. I didn’t understand why but something about him made me feel so sad.

“Are you hungry? Would you like to eat with us now?” Abba asked, decidedly breaking through the thoughts and emotions I had begun to feel for my brother I had just met.

“Yes! I’m so hungry and so happy to be with both of you!”

The thoughts of sadness left quickly as I anticipated eating with Abba and his son. I was so happy to finally meet my brother.

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