This contest is closed.... congratulations to the winner, Kim S., and thanks to all that participated!
So the stories came in, and I showed them to the judges (otherwise known as my four oldest children, whose taste in literature is most astute) They had the job of choosing the top three. I must say that this poor girl in the woods has been through a lot!
Help us choose the winning story by commenting once on this post, and you will be entered to win a set of three note cards (your choice of design) from my Society 6 shop! Winner will be chosen by random number generator on Thursday August 14th.
Story One. ----Jeremy B.
The silver clouds that settled upon their homestead brought a breakfast chill not anxious to be chased by the warming sun. Spring had not quite sprung. A fog hung in the air casting a pall prompting even the warblers to whisper, making the morning feel that much lonelier. It had been three days since Magdalene last saw Papa. She thought she spotted him at the tree-line yesterday carrying two jackrabbits, but when she ran to him, he vaporized into shadows, swallowed whole by the trees. His hunting trips never take this long!
The Wyoming winter had been a hardscrabble endeavor. A late arrival followed by Mother’s death from the fever limited them to an abbreviated summer planting and a meager harvest.
The few animals that they owned also succumbed to illness and could not be replaced without a long trek to Caspar, a trip Papa knew would be needed once the days became warmer. Until the supply run could be made, cornmeal and Papa’s hunting were king at the homestead.
Magdalene, who ordinarily was not a worrier, was becoming grateful for her hunger and the diversion it provided. Anything to not have to think about her looming decision: “What should I do if Papa doesn’t come back?”
“Will I get lost if I look for him?” she pondered. “Will I run out of food if I don’t?”
She suddenly cocked her head as the noise jerked her out of her morbid contemplations. “Was that a rifle shot?” she wondered. “Or, are the trees just toying with me once again?”
Story Two. -----Zafaran
The shadows of the woods were dark. And, being lost added to my panicked state.
If you ask me how I came here, I would say it is a long story that began when I set out early in the morning, from our camp, by the edge of the woods. I was looking for the bird that had sung so beautifully outside my tent. I could hear the bird just beyond the next tree and kept walking until I couldn’t find my way back.
I was cold, but the day was getting brighter and golden sunlight filtered in through the trees. I followed the light and reached the edge of the woods. I could see our campsite now and raced back to my frightened Mother.
Story Three-----Kim S.
She was just a woodcutter's daughter. Her family was often hungry, and they worked hard. Last winter was particularly cruel. Mother and Little One had succumbed to fever. Father had not sold enough wood, there was no money for nourishing food or to send for a doctor. The girl stayed at mother's side with a cool cloth, watching her slip away. A smaller gravestone soon joined Mother's in the clearing.
Winter gave way to spring, then summer. Father and brother cut wood. The girl tended a little garden and gathered what she could from the woods. There were small joys in life. She laughed at the antics of squirrels, and collected interesting leaves and bits to keep in her treasure box. Her greatest joy was autumn. She loved the woods in autumn. The way that leaves rained down from the trees in showers of color made her think of a royal coronation or a great wedding. She spent hours pretending to be at just such an event. If only winter did not follow!
One late autumn afternoon, when the chill had just begun to creep and fill her soul with dread, Father and brother didn't return from cutting wood. She went to the forest, partly searching for them, partly to soak in its life before cold robbed the trees of their glory. This day, the golden afternoon sun drew her further in than she would normally go. All around her the wood seemed to glow. The further she went, the more the light beckoned.
A little squirrel scampered in the leaves overhead. A single flaming leaf dropped from a branch. She watched it float towards her. It was then she heard the voice.
“Dear One...”
The girl started. “Father? Is that you?”
“No, it is I”
“Who are you?”
“I am the One whom the leaves announce, I am the King of these Woods”
“I cannot see you”
“Still I am here. Come away with me, I have long watched you and desired for you to enter my kingdom”
“I cannot. My Father and brother, they need me. I couldn't come away with you. I do not even know you!”
“You have known me long. You have wished to see me in my Kingdom and attend my wedding. So you will.”
“I don't understand”
“ You need not understand”
“Winter is coming, I must...”
“Winter is past, you will never be cold or hungry again. Come away with me.”
The girl looked behind her. The wood had grown dark. Before her, the light only grew.
“What of Father? What of brother?”
“They are already here. Come away, my beloved!”
So the stories came in, and I showed them to the judges (otherwise known as my four oldest children, whose taste in literature is most astute) They had the job of choosing the top three. I must say that this poor girl in the woods has been through a lot!
Help us choose the winning story by commenting once on this post, and you will be entered to win a set of three note cards (your choice of design) from my Society 6 shop! Winner will be chosen by random number generator on Thursday August 14th.
Story One. ----Jeremy B.
The silver clouds that settled upon their homestead brought a breakfast chill not anxious to be chased by the warming sun. Spring had not quite sprung. A fog hung in the air casting a pall prompting even the warblers to whisper, making the morning feel that much lonelier. It had been three days since Magdalene last saw Papa. She thought she spotted him at the tree-line yesterday carrying two jackrabbits, but when she ran to him, he vaporized into shadows, swallowed whole by the trees. His hunting trips never take this long!
The Wyoming winter had been a hardscrabble endeavor. A late arrival followed by Mother’s death from the fever limited them to an abbreviated summer planting and a meager harvest.
The few animals that they owned also succumbed to illness and could not be replaced without a long trek to Caspar, a trip Papa knew would be needed once the days became warmer. Until the supply run could be made, cornmeal and Papa’s hunting were king at the homestead.
Magdalene, who ordinarily was not a worrier, was becoming grateful for her hunger and the diversion it provided. Anything to not have to think about her looming decision: “What should I do if Papa doesn’t come back?”
“Will I get lost if I look for him?” she pondered. “Will I run out of food if I don’t?”
She suddenly cocked her head as the noise jerked her out of her morbid contemplations. “Was that a rifle shot?” she wondered. “Or, are the trees just toying with me once again?”
Story Two. -----Zafaran
The shadows of the woods were dark. And, being lost added to my panicked state.
If you ask me how I came here, I would say it is a long story that began when I set out early in the morning, from our camp, by the edge of the woods. I was looking for the bird that had sung so beautifully outside my tent. I could hear the bird just beyond the next tree and kept walking until I couldn’t find my way back.
I was cold, but the day was getting brighter and golden sunlight filtered in through the trees. I followed the light and reached the edge of the woods. I could see our campsite now and raced back to my frightened Mother.
Story Three-----Kim S.
She was just a woodcutter's daughter. Her family was often hungry, and they worked hard. Last winter was particularly cruel. Mother and Little One had succumbed to fever. Father had not sold enough wood, there was no money for nourishing food or to send for a doctor. The girl stayed at mother's side with a cool cloth, watching her slip away. A smaller gravestone soon joined Mother's in the clearing.
Winter gave way to spring, then summer. Father and brother cut wood. The girl tended a little garden and gathered what she could from the woods. There were small joys in life. She laughed at the antics of squirrels, and collected interesting leaves and bits to keep in her treasure box. Her greatest joy was autumn. She loved the woods in autumn. The way that leaves rained down from the trees in showers of color made her think of a royal coronation or a great wedding. She spent hours pretending to be at just such an event. If only winter did not follow!
One late autumn afternoon, when the chill had just begun to creep and fill her soul with dread, Father and brother didn't return from cutting wood. She went to the forest, partly searching for them, partly to soak in its life before cold robbed the trees of their glory. This day, the golden afternoon sun drew her further in than she would normally go. All around her the wood seemed to glow. The further she went, the more the light beckoned.
A little squirrel scampered in the leaves overhead. A single flaming leaf dropped from a branch. She watched it float towards her. It was then she heard the voice.
“Dear One...”
The girl started. “Father? Is that you?”
“No, it is I”
“Who are you?”
“I am the One whom the leaves announce, I am the King of these Woods”
“I cannot see you”
“Still I am here. Come away with me, I have long watched you and desired for you to enter my kingdom”
“I cannot. My Father and brother, they need me. I couldn't come away with you. I do not even know you!”
“You have known me long. You have wished to see me in my Kingdom and attend my wedding. So you will.”
“I don't understand”
“ You need not understand”
“Winter is coming, I must...”
“Winter is past, you will never be cold or hungry again. Come away with me.”
The girl looked behind her. The wood had grown dark. Before her, the light only grew.
“What of Father? What of brother?”
“They are already here. Come away, my beloved!”
Would you like to call the original painting your own? Bids will be received until the end of the contest. $75 minimum bid. This is a mixed media piece on canvas, 8 by 10 inches. And beautifully rich in story.
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