[Faith-talk] Chapter 6 of my novel

[Gloria G]

This was a great chapter. I really loved the poem that was read in the 
peace.
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From: "Poppa Bear via Faith-talk" <faith-talk at nfbnet.org>
To: "'Faith-talk,for the discussion of faith and religion'" 
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Sent: Saturday, August 02, 2014 3:37 PM
Subject: [Faith-talk] Chapter 6 of my novel


> Greetings, now of Corse a novel can't be complete without a young 
> attractive
> lady, now can it? Oh, to be young, brave and vulnerable again. LOL. Enjoy.
>
> Chapter 6
>
>
>
> Ten minutes later Luke was stirred out of a short nap. He had drifted off
> into a light sleep as he waited for somebody to bring up his books. He 
> awoke
> to the sound of a nurse thumbing threw the pages of one of the old worn
> paperbacks.
>
>    Glancing up from the pages of the faded and tired looking book she saw
> Luke staring at her and the shadow of an embarrassing blush spread over 
> her
> face. The nurse's name was Alison, but everyone called her Alli. She was 
> in
> her late twenties, and had a pleasant looking disposition.
>
>    Her eyes were a light green and her hair was a beautiful and thick
> glossy auburn, with teasing blond streaks that seemed to shine as the 
> light
> danced off of the golden strands of her glossy hair. She looked like a
> mixture of a blossoming spring morning and a tranquil fall afternoon.
>
>    Luke was feeling extremely tired, and seeing the nurse all ready
> skimming through the book, without ceremony, but with easy southern
> politeness  asked, "Mam, would you be nice enough to read me a little out 
> of
> that book?" Looking into his face to see if he was serious, and seeing his
> eyes slowly close, she saw that he was exhausted. She decided to 
> accommodate
> his request.
>
>    "What exactly would you like me to read?" "
> you were just reading is fine."As he spoke, he never opened his eyes, so
> this made Alli fill more at ease, knowing that he was not staring at her 
> or
> attempting to play some kind of game.
>
>    She started to read, and to Luke's silent gratification she read with a
> soothing soft voice that was both clear and melodious. As she read, her
> voice sunk into the text like an old weathered wooden oar lazily dipping
> into the serene waters of a calm lake, bringing the deep meaningful words 
> to
> the surface where they sparkled and splashed a cooling melody onto the 
> ears
> of the listener.
>
>   The text she read was as follows. "-Annie Johnson Flint
>
> Blessed Homeland
>
> Gliding o'er life's fitful waters,
>
> Heavy surges sometimes roll;
>
> And we sigh for yonder haven,
>
> For the homeland of the soul.
>
> Blessed homeland, ever fair!
>
> Sin can never enter there;
>
> But the soul, to life awaking,
>
> Everlasting bloom shall wear.
>
> Oft we catch a faint reflection,
>
> Of its bright and vernal hills;
>
> And, though distant, how we hail it!
>
> How each heart with rapture thrills!
>
> To our Father, and our Savior,
>
> To the Spirit, Three in One,
>
> We shall sing glad songs of triumph
>
> When our harvest work is done.
>
> 'Tis the weary pilgrim's homeland,
>
> Where each throbbing care shall cease,
>
> And our longings and our yearnings,
>
> Like a wave, be hushed to peace."
>
> As she finished the text and looked up she saw that Luke seemed to be
> asleep. The expression on his face was that of a baby in his mother's 
> arms.
> If a face ever looked like an angels she thought, it was this strange
> patient, who sounded like a cow hand and read books that seemed to be 
> older
> than her great grandmother.
>
> With fresh thoughts in her mind and reflecting over the peaceful 
> expression
> on the face of her sleeping angel patient, she was struck with a strange
> feeling that seemed to be tied to the words of the poem, and the reality 
> of
> the comfort that the words had brought to this man.
>
> She picked the book back up and found the poem again and reread it. This
> time it seemed to become a little more attractive to her as she considered
> the meaning behind the words. The last line of the poem seemed to strike a
> longing in her own heart as she read them over and over,"
>
> 'Tis the weary pilgrim's homeland,
>
> Where each throbbing care shall cease,
>
> And our longings and our yearnings,
>
> Like a wave, be hushed to peace."
>
>    As she left the room she involuntarily let out a long, deep sigh. She
> was at a point in her life where the scales start to fall away and the 
> facts
> of life become a haunting reality for those who have chose to walk the 
> path
> according to their own strength and understanding.
>
>    She had graduated from college two years ago with a BA in nursing
> management, got a condo a year ago, was driving a new pick up, the exact
> same model she had always dreamed about, dating the quire director from 
> her
> church and in spite of her relatively easy and comfortable lifestyle, she
> was still becoming more and more dissatisfied with her life each day.
>
>    Peace was the one thing that she couldn't seem to find. The words ran
> threw her mind again, "Like a wave be hushed to peace." Then she said to
> herself in a patronizing voice, "Alli, how can you not find Pease? I have
> one of the most stable lives out of all of the people I know. Jane is 
> going
> threw that divorce, Sue has that pill problem and Matt just lost his job.
> What is it about me? Why can't I be happy?"
>
>    Then her mind turned to Mike. "Maybe if he asks me to marry him things
> will change. I don't know though. I don't even know if I love him, but 
> does
> that even matter now days?"
>
>
>
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