January 2009 Writing Contest

Contest Winners:
1st Place Susan Gumm
2nd Place Bill
3rd Place Kathy Buck

See the video below, with 1st Place winners story

Please scroll down and read entries

This months contest is a writing contest. Submit a short story or poem on this theme:

My favorite moment in my life

Prizes

1st Prize

2nd Prize

3rd Prize

Stories will be posted on this page. Check back on this page for your submitted story and once its up, invite your friends to this page to vote.

Vote On Story Enteries Here

My favorite moment in my life

The name is Brushy Creek and when it rains a lot its becomes a raging force of water. Several people have had to be rescued from its boiling waters when heavy rains have occurred. However, this day was a wonderful fall October afternoon and it was just the perfect time of year to do a trail walk.

We pulled up along the side of the road and jumped out and headed back to the area where we could slide down a small path and start our journey along the south side of Brushy Creek. The weather was just beautiful and Jordyn immediately took her shoes off and starting wading into the cool, clear, moving water. Grandpa had just remembered to bring his camera and of course I got busy and took a picture of her heading out into the water. The smile on her face told a story in its self. She was in her own little world and seems so at home wading about.

We continued on down the creek to a large cement area that formed a bridge almost over the entire creek. Grandpa took more pictures of Jordyn sitting on the rock, holding some wild flowers she had picked, holding onto a tree branch. Every picture turned out so perfect just like a photo shot. As she had been in a beauty contest earlier in her life, the child just had a natural way to pose for these beautiful outdoor scenes.

Grandpa took over a dozen photos of my beautiful bi-racial child that day. I replied that the Indians used to roam these areas and probably camped and fished along this creek. Grandpa, Jordyn exclaimed, "I'M part Indian, you know!", "Yes, Jordyn I know you are part Cherokee on both sides of our family.

As we wandered back down the creek towards the car, Jordyn again waded into the bubbling water, she slowly turned to Grandpa and said, "Grandpa, you have made this a very memorable day for me." I suddenly had a big frog in my throat and a tear appeared in my eye and I said "Jordyn, honey you couldn't have said anything more precious to ol' Grandpa that what you just said.. I will and shall remember those words and that moment in time for the rest of my life...I hope she will remember them too. In fact, I know she does as just this past weekend, I over heard her say to her Momma, I want to go to Brushy Creek again. She remembers now almost two years later...I am forever blessed for the two unforgettable hours with her at Brushy Creek.
Bill
Taylor, TX

Six years ago when a client asked me to create a signature chocolate for her, I said yes without having any idea how to actually make chocolate. But I was familiar with the Food Network show, "Chocolate, with Jacques Torres." Sitting with notepad and pen, I watched that show day after day until I developed the confidence to try my hand at making chocolate. It worked and I've been honing and improving my craft ever since.

So, when I was in New York last year I made it my mission to find his shop. My heart was pounding as I stood in the doorway. I spent an hour just "being" there. I told my story to his employees. I took pictures of them and of the store. I sat and drank a cup of his signature hot chocolate. And, then, I went back the next day.

I will always be grateful to Jacques Torres. He has no idea the impact he made on my life's work.
Cynthia Schmidt
Makawao, HI

As a young girl and growing up in a household of ancient values at the hand of my very strict parents and grandmother, I was a shy shell of what I have become now in my own adult life. I was an extremely insecure adolescent who could do little without a friend nearby.

Coming into my final year of middle school (8th grade - age 13) I had a wide circle of friends, or at least I thought. My first day of that school year saw my group of friends (the dreaded clique circle) walk up to me and hand me a note, and then they walked away. The note in summary ( and from memory) read:

"We do not want you to hang out with us any more because you are too needy. You always need one of us to come with you...Grow Up"
I spent the rest of the day by myself, I ate lunch alone as I watched my old friends all laughing. Such cruelty from a group of gals I'd known since age five. I felt like the whole school of kids viewed me as those girls did. I spent the entire day holding back tears. I walked home alone that day, the pain became anger.

When I got home that evening the anger led way to rebellion. I cut my hair, long locks which had graced the small of my back. My old friends all had long hair, it was what "we' all did to belong. I cut my hair short, real short. I got rid of the girly trendy styles of clothing "we" all use to wear and rifled through my fathers old baggy sweaters and shirts. A new me emerged - where had this person been?

The next morning at school was spent being just me. I had no cares for who accepted my new look, I held my head high as I walked passed my old friends as they pointed and whispered to one another. I cackled back, much to their shock. Gone was the shy and bashful girl.

At lunch and sitting again alone, one of the girls from the popular gang came over. I always envied and for some reason hated these girls, the old group of gals hated them so I did too, without even knowing them. Wendy, who was a cheerleader sat by me and said she had heard what the other girls did to me and thought it was really mean. She told me that I could hang out with her group. I grabbed my lunch and sat at the popular table and looked over my shoulder at my old friends and just smiled. My new friends were all asking who did my hair, and where did I buy that sweater?

The next day, my new friends where wearing their dads old sweaters. Two now sporting self short hair cuts. In my rebellion, I became a bit of a trend setter and found myself.

This is a favorite moment in my life because that very moment to this day still defines who I am today. I remain indifferent to what's "cool" and irreverent to opinions.

About five years after high school I ran into one of the "mean girls" at a local event. "Jane" gave me an apology for handing me that note back in 8th grade. She said that she always felt bad when she looked back at that moment. I wanted respond acerbically, but did not. Instead I thanked her for the push to find me and had long ago let go of the pain of that day. "Jane" and I remain in contact to this day. She became a teacher, I often wonder if her apology stemmed from watching modern time school "mean girls" behave? Reflections can remind of us who we once were, and what we've become and why.
Kathy Buck
Port Washington, WI

That year there were a lot of black fuzzy caterpillars around and my grandad always said that meant a hard cold winter. Now he read his Almanac too so he was smart on those things. All I know is that fuzzy caterpillars were fun to play with and they seemed to predict weather pretty good but anyone who paid attention could smell the rain when it was coming and the snow!!

There was nothing like the smell of "snow air" and the silence of the snow right after it had fallen.Looking out everything had blue shadows in the early morn and there were glistening paths where "Mr. Frost" had been sliding along.Sometimes you would see a deer track or two or maybe some raccoon tracks but for the most part everything was so clean and hushed and holy no one wanted to be the first one to step on it and ruin it.

We used to make lots of "snow angels" at least they looked pretty , it just took a little longer to get where you were going.But then once we'd broken up the snow it didn't matter anymore and we jumped up and ran all over.

Now as for the rain,there was nothing like the smell of the rain on the fir trees.And walking under the giant umbrella of the fir,cedar and other emerald and chartreuse giants of northwest you experienced a fine mist that would pervade the interlocked canopy and bathed you in shades of bluegreen
Susan Gumm
Encinitas, CA

The days went by as our whole family spent and cherished the moments together. On the last day there we went to the most beautiful church and another beach where we found little shells with baby snails.

When we returned home by the afternoon delta flight, we all realized that being somewhere so beautiful with people you know and love really makes you better... We know it made us better!
Imagine Ramnarine
Schenectady, NY
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Rules

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Your story or poem must fit in the box below. If it doesn’t fit, edit it.

Your story must be submitted during the dates stated above. Entries submitted before or after these dates will not be considered.

Winners will be determined by the amount of votes. Anyone can vote (they don’t have to be on our newsletter). Once your story is posted encourage all your friends and family to come and vote for you. Votes will continue up to 5 days after the end of the month and the winner will be announced the next day.