Sandbox~ Not Only Meg

This week, we had to write a scene of someone reading our completed novel project.  I chose to pick my sister Laura’s daughter someday in the future (since she doesn’t have one yet 😉 ).  And since my sister loves books, would love a library in her house when she grows up, loves window seats, and wants to name one of her daughters Margaret, I created this character.  I’m not sure how much I do or don’t like this story, but here it is.

But I found a gif for this one, and so I’m really excited since I’ve never done a gif before!  🙂


rainywindow

Margaret put the slim book down and looked up, staring past the raindrops running down the panes of the window seat where she was curled up.  Her Aunt Rachel had written the book when she was in high school for a Creative Writing class, and when she had finished it, each of her seven younger siblings had gotten their own copy – even though Uncle Peter* was only two months old at the time.  Mommy’s copy had been read several times through, and this morning, she had given it to her thirteen-year-old daughter to read.  “You’re bored?”  Mom had looked at her skeptically and then pulled it off a bookshelf.  “Read this.  I think you’ll enjoy it.  Some of the characters remind me a lot of you.”  So a few hours ago Margaret had taken it to the window seat in the library, her favorite spot in the entire house, and begun to read Only.

She did not know what she had expected from the novel, but Margaret knew it was not this.  She had imagined something along the lines of a nice story of Jairus and his daughter, just like the beautiful picture in her little sister’s story Bible.  But Only was not a picture of a girl laying there with her hair all spread out and Jesus holding her hand.  It was a vivid portrayal of a loving father, trying to keep peace and avoid conflict, but finding it inevitably shattering his world.  That was Jairus.  And then there was his brother-in-law, Mordecai, who had courage and passion, but he stirred up conflict, and his conflict did not just shatter his own world, but the world of others.

Margaret remembered what Mom had said:  “Some of the characters remind me a lot of you.”  The more Margaret had read, the more she had found hints of herself in Jairus.  She was a quiet, precocious girl who loved reading in corners and keeping her desk and dresser drawers organized.  Margaret did not like to get into fights with her siblings because was just such a bother to argue, and she preferred to let things go with unheard remarks under her breath.  Jairus, too, liked to avoid conflicts and work on keeping the peace.  And so what Jairus learned struck her pointedly, that conflicts are not things to avoid, but to choose carefully and deal with courageously.  Margaret realized that she while she should not go picking fights like zealous Mordecai, she should certainly not shirk conflict.  “Like Jairus found out,” Margaret mused, “there are some things worth standing up for.”

And the reason you can stand up for things is because you have a firm foundation under you, a reason not to be afraid to get involved in conflict, Margaret observed.  Jesus told Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; only believe.”  If Jesus is the center and basis of your world, the rest of it will fall into place as it should.  And that was another way Jairus was like her.  He liked to keep his world properly organized.  But then it fell apart, even though he tried hard to keep it together.

“I guess… I guess conflict inevitably hits your life – no matter what you do or who you are – since it’s a fallen world,”  Margaret’s brown eyes followed a trickle of rain down to the bottom of the window.  “And He’s the only one who can control a world.”

“Meg?  Are you in here?” her mom’s voice called.

Margaret pulled aside one of the curtains, “Yeah, Mom?”

“There you are.  It’s lunchtime,” Mom stepped into the library and peeked into her daughter’s lair.  “How’s Only?”

“I just finished it,” Margaret answered her thoughtfully.

“Great!  Did you like it?”  the mother inquired cheerfully.

“Mhmm,” the girl nodded.  Margaret pushed her curly brown cowlick out of her face.  “I think you’re right, Mom.  Some of the characters are a lot like me.”

Her mom smiled mischievously.  “That’s what I thought when I first read it.”


*For the sake of the story, I have taken the liberty of determining the gender and name of my expected sibling.  🙂

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