Inspirational Shorts

Falling Short of the Glory..whose Glory are you falling short of

Roman 3:23 talks about falling short of the glory of God .

Basically you will never be has perfect as GOd.

So, why try?




When I was a girl, I used to construct some of the most hideous crafts for my Parents. Glue running everywhere, I would find some rocks or ribbon to put on a Valentine Day card or Mother's day gift. One year for Father's day sticks out more than anything, I was in the second grade and that would make it about 1982 so the Happy Meal toys at McDonald's were crucial to my toy collection.  I'm not sure what character the blonde haired, square looking white man was supposed to be but he was a lego man with a sheriff badge on his chest. Since, it was close to Father's day, I figured I would make a craft with this white man, lego sheriff action figure for my Father, right. I took the white backing from a stocking package it was like white card stock, folded it in half and got some red tulle for somewhere, got my elmer's white glue and tried to make something out of some scraps. I scribbled some words on the inside about him being the greatest Dad which is very true. But it was so ugly! If the card wasn't ugly enough, I put inside of a red school box to make it look like more of a gift. My family always had a special dinner for holidays and Father's day was one of those days. We gathered at the table in the kitchen and Mom started to bring the food and my sister set-up the card  table for Father's day gifts. We ate first , I was so anxious to see his face when he saw my gift, I was embarrassed about how ugly it was. I wrote such meaningful words inside of the card, maybe Dad wouldn't laugh too hard at my creation.
Finally, getting through dessert my sister started the gift giving, here Daddy this is from me, my sister said, she got him a tie, so typical all Father's get ties on Fathers Day, Mom gave my Dad a suit I can't top that, then Daddy said, whose this red box from, Little Buddy, my sister said sarcastically. Let me see here, My Dad began to open the red school box, my heart started pumping he was going to laugh at me why didn't I just put my name on my Mom's Father's day card, but no I wanted to stand alone I wanted to give my Daddy my own gift. When my Dad opened the gift his eyes got big and he started smiling then he read the inside of the card: What do you get the greatest Father in the world?
Me! That's right Little Buddy, Daddy said, you are the best gift for me my Little Buddy as he put me on his lap and I lay on his chest I could smell the Lagerfeld cologne he always wears.

25 years later

I like to wear hats occasionally and my Dad as a collection of hats worn and unworn as I was searching for a suitable sky for my ensemble, I came across a red box. The red schoolbox I gave Daddy when I was in the second grade he kept it and it wasn't in a pile of junk it was in his daily reach at the top of the closet. I heard my Father creaking upstairs and then I heard his voice, who's in my room? It's me Daddy, Im looking for a hat, I showed him the red box why do you still have this ugly thing Daddy? We sat on the bed together and I handed him the box I would never throw anything you made for me no matter how it looks, under the sheriff Father's day card were other ugly things i had created for my Father. I had tears in my eyes Daddy you kept all these? I keep whatever my children give me because it was your best at that time, all your creations got better over the years but now you can see where you came from. Your effort and love in the creation is what I see nothing but Love only. Thanks Dad, I said.


Moral:

People may laugh and chastiste what your praise gift is but your glory is not for man it's for your Father to enjoy!


No matter what your praise or glory looks like your Father is pleased because its a present for him..

Inspirational Shorts

If God Gossiped

1 Samuel 16:7

1 Samuel 16:7 New International Version (NIV)

7 But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

Sun coming up over a typical neighborhood in black America.

Dogs barking

People coming out of their houses going to work, children going to school, buses , bikes, cars the morning rush hour as begun.

A man listening to his radio rolls down his window and hears a loud voice from the heavens; Willy drinks when he's sad!, People looking around to see where the voice came from a loud heavy voice of a man.  " Shirley is digging in her nose and cheating on her husband, Shirley peaks her head from under the covers and so does the man with Shirley.
Where is the voice coming from, and why was it telling secrets? The voice continued, James is gay, Keith is a killer of small animals, every secret you could imagine was on display neighbors and families looking at each other in disbelief.

A crowd started to form on Main St. of people gathering to hear the secrets. People laughing, crying others becoming terribly angry about what they were hearing.

Moral: God sees everything and all you worried about is some silly human finding out:-)

Look Rich Broke Bitch Pitch

Objective Summary

Look Rich Broke Bitch is a weekly television series developed for 40 something women or (men) who are starting over and need tips on surviving their journey.

The show will change the negative stigma of starting over for 40 something’s who move back in with their parents. People who have suffered through divorce, loss of a job or just a string of bad luck sometimes have to start all over. The series will give a step-by-step process and survival tips about life during the transitional period; it’s a positive show but realistic about the situation.

“Pity both parents and the American housing market: Millennial are moving back home with their folks -- and they aren’t moving out. 

Almost 40 percent of young adults lived with their parents, stepparents, grandparents and other relatives last year, or the highest point in 75 years; according to data from real estate analytics company Tulia. The only time in U.S. history when the share has been higher was in 1940, when the U.S. economy was regaining its footing from the Great Depression and the year prior to the country’s entry into World War II.” 

By AIMEE PICCHI MONEYWATCH December 21, 2016, 2:25 PM

Young adults living with their parents hits a 75-year high

Pity, why is it a pity? Trust me nobody wants to move back in with their parents their nice people but God Bless the child, you know the verse.

In 2004, I married the love of my life and had a beautiful son the following year.

My husband and I were living the American Dream in one of Houston’s upscale Black neighborhoods, we went to the best church, we were both college educated, we were tall and beautiful all my prayers had been answered. I was married before I was 35 and popped out a child, had a job and a nice condo off Holly Hall.

Then reality set in the marriage that looked pretty good on the outside was hot garbage on the inside. The only good thing that came out of the marriage was my son; he is the only reason I survived such turmoil and abuse. The same time my marriage was ending my career was going through a transition meaning I suddenly didn’t have a job either, such a low point in my life.

I had a place to go, back to my parent’s house; I have been back to my parent’s house

more times than I can count. I usually go back to the parental units when I run out of money or can’t pay my bills it’s kind of the same thing but this time I swallowed my pride cause I have a son. With open arms and Christian Values my parents are always glad to open the door to me but this time it was different, I had ended a second marriage now and my kid is almost 13 and I am 42!

Goals

The show will change the negative stigma of starting over for 40 something’s who move back in with their parents. The audience will view the main character as a person that’s going through the same issues she has decided to approach it differently, with a Rich outlook. Rashanique topics range from always looking your best even on the lowest budget, dating while living your parents and raising a 30 year-old 7^th grader. People who have suffered through divorce, loss of a job or just a string of bad luck sometimes have to start all over. The series will give a step-by-step process and survival tips about life during the transitional period; it’s a positive show but realistic about the situation.

The audience will see the transition period as a journey or adventure we are on the bottom but now we have nothing to lose let’s plan a way to get out of this situation and stay out. The audience should feel empowered after the series ends to fight back with necessary blows and just emotional ones.

Everybody Loves the Sunshine

                                    Everybody Loves the Sunshine

By Rashanique Williams

 They call me Ray short for Gloria Ray my Daddy always told me I was a ray of sunshine. I will believe that for the rest of my life it was the last thing my Daddy ever said to me. My Daddy passed about 2 years ago it has been an adjustment, in my strong Momma voice. My Mother is a flawless stranger I was more of a Daddy’s girl but I was forced into her world when he left.  At times I would see girls about my age going with their mother’s to beauty salons, getting manicures and other girly things.

I never saw myself as a girl, I am a girl, well now at 13 I am a girl and I need my Mother. But in a way she is gone too.  Momma and Daddy met in high school you could tell Daddy loved Momma they were best friends I saw them love each other and have fun with each other. Daddy was Momma and I’s buffer, I know she loves me but she doesn’t like to get dirty like me and Dad did.

My Mother is a Black queen in an all white castle. You can visit but don’t stay. In her Ivory castle are beautiful works of art that she paints when she’s not writing, that’s the only dirt you saw on her and the only time you saw her hair messed up. In the extra bedroom in the back of the house she made the whole room into a studio with a record player, records, wine and canvas she was in another part of heaven the only place we connected. When Daddy passed away a few years ago Momma put a piece of her away and I understood my Father was the only person that didn’t try to change her and now he’s gone.

I was the only one who had to understand I was the only child and I was glad. I love my mother but I don’t know her I literally grew up in my father’s hands.  Everyday he got home from work we would race to eat Momma’s dinner and go to the garage. Daddy had a record player out there shelves of paint cans, fertilizer, mulch all the tools a great garage would have and an old couch from his bachelor pad. I would ride my bike around the block and Daddy would help me with my bike tricks and give me money for the ice cream truck. Momma stayed in the house a lot she is playwright and an artist. Momma has written some great plays the society papers here have reviewed them and we traveled to New York to see an off-Broadway version of her most successful story “Purgatory’s Paradise”. I don’t remember much about the trip I was two years old but the pictures are great.

I would describe Momma as a peninsula she has surrounded herself with herself and connected to me with a bridge of Daddy.  Momma and Daddy shared a lot of things together their biggest love besides me was music together they were the music connoisseur couple, they knew everything about music; from straight ahead jazz, rhythm and blues, big band even classical! I was proud when they talked about music at their weekly Friday parties Momma was a totally different person in front of company she was on stage. My parents would play records on the hi-fi in the front room and she would dance. It was a huge piece of furniture with a “30” inch screen in the middle of the console there was a record player on one side and a radio on the other end it was beautiful. Momma and Daddy love Minnie Ripperton they always played her records.

We have a nice house a one story Mid-Century Modern home in the center of Hiram Clarke, Texas on Louise Lane. A patio out back with my big mutt dog Stash; it’s. It’s a few blocks away from Kirksey Estates. Kirksey Estates is a gated community filled with two story mansions complete with pools and some houses have tennis courts.

Daddy had a good job we were blessed they told me Daddy had a degree in business from Prairie View A&M University got his Masters at University of Houston a very intelligent and gentle man. Don’t get daddy mad it’s not a good thing and that’s all I will say about that. In 1979 my Father was named Director of Community Services at a place called Gulf Coast.

My parents didn’t really argue in front of me but you knew when they were mad at each other they were silent. Otherwise, my parents were very silly with each other they got along like best friends in fact they both said I married my best friend.

When I start missing daddy and want to cry I never let her see, I don’t want her sad on my account. When the sad time would arrive I would get on my bike and ride and let the sun hit my face it would dry my tears and allow me to get it out I would peddle fast as my legs would go and get the wind in my ponytail.

When Momma would get sad she would often fall silent. Why did Daddy have to go away? Damn, it was a Tuesday Daddy came in dressed for work he was always so sharp and handsome with his 6-foot frame broad shoulders perfect curly dark hair and distinguished glasses, Momma fit him to a ‘T”. Daddy came in the kitchen and plopped his briefcase on the counter in the kitchen. Momma told Daddy to get out of the refrigerator she was making him a plate of eggs, bacon, and sausage and of course grits! Daddy had been in the service so he ate at the same time everyday every meal had to be ready at a certain time he was trained that way. This morning Momma wasn’t feeling well, but she came and made his plate anyway. I was good with cereal I will eat again when I get to school. It was like any other day except I did have a stomachache and it was raining I hated rain so dark and you can’t see the sun. Daddy sat down across from me and whispered good morning, “Little buddy”. That was my secret name we only used in the clubhouse or garage. I let is slide because he did whisper it, we will meet at 0600hours; 6’oclock in the clubhouse, Daddy said. I laughed and said, ok.

Then he got up from the table and left his plate half eaten, walked over to momma and kissed her. Smack! On the lips both their eyes closed looking real General Hospital love scene-ish. “Yuck, children present”, I said. They laughed, Daddy came over to me and said, give me some sugar, and you will always be my Ray of sunshine. My eyes lit up like a girl on Christmas morning, how did I know it was the last time? It was a long day at school much of it was a blur.

I walked home in the rain because Momma forgot to pick me up, I was heated, and I stomped in every puddle on the way home. When I got home nobody was there I had to find the extra key under the flowerpot on the porch. I took off my wet clothes and got in the shower and washed my hair, after I finished I wrapped a towel around my head like an African Princess and got a huge beach towel to put around me.

Just then I heard the key in the door I thought it was Daddy. I saw Mr. Williams  bring Momma in the house she came in soaked from the rain. Mr. Williams lived about four blocks over in Kirksey Estates. Mr. Williams was in charge of distribution on the southwest side of town for “Afrostrocracy News”.  A tall thin well-dressed gentleman he walked Momma into the living room and sat her down Momma said nothing. Hi Momma, I said with my hand on my hip and much attitude cause I had to walk home in the rain. Mr. Williams pulled me into the other room I was very nervous I was naked under that towel. Mr. Williams kneeled down and said someone called from Daddy’s office and said he complained of a headache earlier today he said he was going to take a nap in his office and never woke up.

I screamed and ran into Momma she just sat there staring into space and crying I reached on the top of my head and gave Momma my towel off my head to dry her tears. I ran to the front door outside into the streets and cried so loud and so hard in that bath towel.

Mr. Williams ran outside in the rain to retrieve me. Keep quiet child, he said it’s going to be all right we are going to take care of you and your Mother. By we Mr. Williams meant him and his wife Myrtle, Myrtle Helen Moore Williams. She stood 4’11 had skin the color of cinnamon toast and always dawned an opal marque shaped cocktail ring she was a giant in the community. Ms. Moore-Williams graduated cum laude with a degree in Education from Huston-Tilllotson University in Austin, Texas class of 1945. She taught at the Ned E. Williams Elementary School and demanded she teach all the so call “problem kids”. Ms. Moore – Williams would turn these kids around she took time with the kids and walked some of them home. Everybody loved her she taught everybody else’s kids but they never had any children of their own. After having a breakdown in the middle of Louise St. I went to my room put on some clothes and came back out to assist Mr. Williams with Momma.  We walked her to their bedroom where she promptly ran in the closet to put one od daddy’s shirts on and then collapsed into bed, Momma are you alright, she didn’t answer she starting sobbing and calling his name. Mr. Williams took my hand and said come on, you come home with us tonight. He was right Momma was in no condition for anything now.

 Riding in Mr. Williams’s black Cadillac with my head down crying I felt so lost and I had to leave Momma. Even though I didn’t really know her I knew she needed me. In no time it seems we arrived at the gated community Kirksey Estates. Mr. Williams pulled this long wood grain and gold remote control looking thing out of his glove compartment and the huge iron-gate opened. We turned down Estes Parkway and I think their house took up the whole street. Mr. Williams pulled his black Cadillac in the driveway slowly. The tall gentlemen rushed to get out of the car and came around to my door opened it and grabbed my hand.  

Mrs. Moore-Williams stood in the front atrium of the house filled with elephant ear plants with her arms open she ushered me into the dark room with a curtain with only a sliver of light coming through she opened the curtain and I was right in this beautiful safari themed decorated room. Through my tears I noticed the drop down entrance complete with a lion statue and leopard rug. There was some kind of thick white carpet that felt like mink under my feet I had to wipe my eyes and look down and get a closer look.  In the distance across the sheik of Africa room I saw a bedroom door open with a pink canopy bed. I had never been on this side of the neighborhood before our house was nice but their house, wow. The room with the pink canopy bed was closer and closer.

As I walked in the pink canopy bedroom I looked to the left and saw a gigantic mural. Bold colors of black, purple, pink and many other colors it was a woman walking up a long staircase with a flowing gown and long hair both flowing in the wind. She’s looking up towards the sky and going up the stairs, the stairs are black and a little distorted but she has this expression like “I have to go” she looked determined and strangely familiar. There was an artist name down on the right side of the mural I had to see who painted this masterpiece.

Just then, Mrs. Moore Williams approached me and touched my shoulder in her hands were two cups of hot cocoa and a yellow gown draped over her arm. She told me put this on baby, there was an old fashioned divider like in the old west movies in the corner with fancy birds painted on the front it was in front of a large vase of giant peacock feathers I went behind the screen and slipped on the gown it was long and elegant. I saw a robe on the pink canopy bed she motioned to me to get the robe. We sat on the pink canopy bed it felt like a cloud she gave me a mug topped with whipped cream we both sipped at the same time and started to talk.

I felt so sad and grown up she told me about her life and when she lost her mother at my age we both cried. But it was nice Mr. Williams came in the room after a few hours and asked if I was hungry. I told him I missed Momma he said he went back to check on her and he made sure she got to sleep. He told me I could go back home whenever I got ready but let my Momma be alone tonight. Sometimes the dead comes back, and he left the room.

Mrs. Moore –Williams put her arm around me and said we will go back first thing in the morning. Yes, ma’am I said, I mean Mrs. Moore- Williams, call me Ms. Myrtle all my friends do, and you’re my new friend. I got a chill down my back this lady was so important and now she’s my friend. She left the room after she made sure I was settled she turned off the light and I was left only with a small nightlight in the corner shaped like a high heel shoe. I lay down on the extremely soft bed and disappeared between the feather down mattress and fluffy pink comforter. This is just what I needed just then I remembered why I needed it and fell asleep crying for Daddy.

I woke up the next morning rolled up in a ball in the queen size pink canopy bed I smelled bacon, eggs and biscuits. I got up and saw the mural again I mean it’s taking up an entire wall so I woke up to it. It was a bold mural to say the least and I can finally see who painted I walked over to the massive piece of art and I heard Mrs. Moore-Williams I mean, Ms. Myrtle, yell for me to come eat breakfast. When I came back to the pink canopy bedroom my clothes from last night’s rainstorm were on the bed clean and pressed. I put them on took a deep breath and walked out to the safari themed living room she held my hand as we walked outside to her little white Volkswagen MG.  When I got into the convertible sports car she put the top down and lit a cigarette. Damn, she was a cool old lady down to the gold foil slippers with a pointy toe.

The sun was shining again she handed me a pair of cat eyeglasses leopard print of course, ladies always where there shades outside, she said. As we drove to the house with Marvin Gaye playing on the radio I dreaded going back to my house from my newly discovered fantasyland.  

We arrived at the house Mrs. Moore-Williams I can’t call her Ms. Myrtle knocked on the front door and Momma didn’t answer. You could hear 5^th Dimension playing very loud, Will you marry me Bill was the song. We went around to the back patio and we opened the gate door and Stash got out that crazy dog I ran after him and came back to the yard. Momma saw Mrs. Moore-Williams she was sitting in the same chair from last night she walked over and opened the door. Stash rushed in the house and bumped Momma I ran and shut off the hi-fi. When I came back to the front room Mrs. Moore-Williams was hugging Momma.

I went into the kitchen to give them some privacy through the kitchen to the door that leads to the garage. It still smelled of Daddy I sat on the couch in the garage put both hands on my face and cried. Momma and I never spoke about daddy except in silence we would forever speak about him mentally never in spoken word. Momma would go silent from time to time when this would happen I would call Mrs. Moore-Williams and she would rescue me. I would get to see a lot of Kirksey Estates for the next few months.

Mr. Williams owned the newspaper distribution on the southwest side of town. All the boys in the neighborhood wanted that route some of the other routes were hard to collect from because of finances or dogs too many distractions to collect from customers and they never tip! The rich side of the neighborhood does tip and pay on- time so everybody wants Route 8B.

Mr. Williams couldn’t decide who should take over the route after Carter James the neighborhood track star graduated high school and went off to college. Mr. Williams had a great idea have a bike race and I was the only girl signed up to compete, but I didn’t care I figure, why not? Daddy and me talked about that paper route before he died he said it would be a great first job for me.

See, when Momma when into her “missing daddy spells” at times she was gone for days. Mrs. Moore-Williams, I can’t call her Myrtle left their phone number on the refrigerator I was told to call anytime.  No real family is close enough for me to call and ask for anything so they said they were going to be like my Grandparents.

I needed this paper route to help Momma I have to be her best friend now that daddy is gone. I could assist her with groceries and maybe even a light bill. I just want to try to help her in some way.  

Momma doesn’t write as much anymore but she still paints in the extra room in the back of the house. She closes the door and shuts the world out until she’s finished. I haven’t been in that room in a while, never invited. I was walking home from school one day when I got home I didn’t see Momma. I heard some noise in the back in her self-made art studio. I opened the door and saw Momma on her stool with a huge canvas in front of her she was so serious she had paint on her face my dad’s old shirt and jeans. I don’t think she knew I was standing there I looked around the studio and saw paintings that looked familiar, It’s the lady from the mural at Mr. and Mrs. Williams house. Did Momma paint the mural?

 In that second she saw me and she was stunned. She put her hand out reaching for me she grabbed me in and put me right in front of her. She stared at me and said yes I know. Who was she talking to? Momma, are you ok? Shhhh she said, your daddy is talking, Momma stop please, I said. I believed her I was just scared I wanted Daddy the way he was not somewhere just whispering, she wanted him anyway she could have him.

I looked at the painting it was the same woman walking up a staircase again. Just then she handed me an old shirt, changed the record pulled out some extra paintbrushes and sat behind me. Positioned in front of me was a white canvas I have never painted really before except at school. Momma told me to close my eyes and listen to the music, relax and paint what you feel. As she stood behind me I felt her fingertips on my temples everything turned into a burst of dancing color. I heard him call to me it was Daddy I love you, Ray. Tears rolled down my face as I painted faster and faster.

This is what Mrs. Moore- Williams tried to explain to me let her go when she goes but if you make a connection with her she will come back. Painting was our connection. I had been invited to stay in the ivory tower. We were silent for hours painting and listening to the music my picture was full of yellow, bright yellow, dark mustard yellow Momma said you heard your Daddy. You can hear him real well when you don’t speak. Yes I did I could feel him I looked at Mommas painting the same woman from the Williams’s house.  Momma who is that lady I said, you, Momma said. You painted me on Mr. and Mrs. Williams wall?  With tears rolling down my face every picture she painted had my face. Momma why don’t you talk to me, I observe you, she said. I’m not like other Mothers I knew you were a leader before you were born. I always paint you in front of a staircase cause you will always be lifted. I never knew she loved me like that and she’s listening to Daddy when she’s silent.

With Momma and I’s new connection we create together and when she needs to be silent I communicate through our paintings. I have gotten pretty good not as good as Momma but I don’t feel so shut out. Momma doesn’t grieve as long anymore, Mrs. Moore-Williams has been helping with that. From the day after my father died Mrs. Moore-Williams kept meeting with Momma mostly when I was at school. I would come back home and see projects they had done together she kept her busy creating. Momma has finished staining a bookcase and painted my room for a surprise. Mrs. Moore-Williams said I could help by having my own project and involving her.

She would tell me if you keep moving your Momma will keep moving when she needs to be silent paint with her and she will come back faster. I didn’t tell her that Daddy speaks to us when we paint that will be our secret. Daddy was going to get Momma and I together one way or another I hate he’s gone but now I know Mommy.

I have been training like crazy getting teased at school for wearing ankle weights everyday, thanks Jane Fonda! Tease me! Do you know how bad I want this? I will go through any kind of tongue-lashing.   Two weeks before the race it rained everyday; how was I going to get my outside training in? I needed the energy from the sun I get a little down when it rained it rained the day my Dad died. I started training inside of the house. Momma scolded me about marking up the hardwood floors with my bike so I had to improvise.

Daddy bought me a Yellow Cactus Flower bike that was too big for any 5 year-old but he taught me how to ride. Saturday morning, I know I haven’t really slept in days I ‘ve been popping up early running in place in my room and doing PBS workouts in the morning before I get in the shower for school. I want to be ready I’ve seen the boys around school eating ice cream and junk from the cafeteria not me I’m in training. Saturday Morning the Day of the race! This race was so important Carter James came back from college for the weekend just to fire the starting pistol and to be a non-bias judge. I put on my electric blue tracksuit inspired by Beat Street the movie my new Zips sneakers. I checked on Momma before I left and she was good, she said she would drive down to the park in about 15 minutes. On the way to the race I grabbed my Walkman and put my favorite song of the week on, Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes.

As, I started to ride I pulled my head back to catch all the southern sun on my face. Just then my bike started riding funny I looked down and my chain had something stuck in it looks a like a shoelace. When did that get in there, where did it come from?  I will try and fix it when I get to the race I will walk my bike up the bike trail. I didn’t want Momma to see me struggling with the bike I felt like I was going to cry. Lean back girl don’t them roll down your face the guys will see and think you’re shook. As, I walked the trail with my bike struggling along I made it to the school where the race was taking place, it was about 5 blocks from our house. Ned E. Williams Elementary named after the first black teacher in the neighborhood. It was a sunny day the kind I like because I am the sunshine my life is spent in the sunshine. Five boys and one girl line up everybody else is on their bike and I walk up to the start line. Mr. Williams yells out, Ray where is your bike? Oh, couldn’t fix my bike I had to pull the kick stand down and leave it on the basketball courts with tears running down my eyes, I kneeled down to try and get the string out but I couldn’t. I heard Momma say, Ray what’s wrong and she ran over. Momma was here and I was glad.

Help me momma, I said. Momma looked at me as if she had seen a ghost Momma said Elton you have to do this. Elton, is my Daddy’s name Momma, I’m not Daddy she said, yes you are and what would Daddy do right now? I thought for a second with the bell in the background signaling the beginning of the race. I looked at Momma and told her I ‘m gone run.

Back to the start line all the boys on their bikes and I yelled down to Mr. Williams and said I’m going to run this race. The boys all screamed you have to be the craziest broad we ever seen! I was ready now. Mr. Williams walks down to my starting block he’s going to have to hear this close up. What is this girl, you running? Yes. Mr. Williams I am, but that wouldn’t be fair to you, he responded. I don’t care I still have to compete and my bike is broken.

Can you ride somebody else’s bike, never I said. I ride my bike or run that’s it. My legs were shaking as I was talking to him, I couldn’t believe the bull I just fed him and I believed it.   Mr. Williams eyes got big and said, girl if you do that I will just give you the route you got more balls than any boy out here. Thanks, Mr. Williams but I would rather earn it, he whispered to me you already did, in my book. I was proud and I know Mommy and Daddy are too. Mrs. Moore-Williams rewarded me with her gold marque shaped cocktail ring! I love that old lady!

Myrtle.....The first 100 years part 2

Myrtle... The first 100 years

The Hunt

A short film about the annual egg hunt at Thompson Elementary.