Then the speaker said. “We have one other award. Our Grand Prize winner is “Arroa” by Anna Russell.” I cried in front of 175 people.
By Anna L. Russell
My head hardly left the pillow when I felt a relentless urge to hurl. I wadded the blanket against my mouth and caught the contents of my stomach in its folds.
I dared not raise my head so I just mumbled. After she went down the hall I struggled to my feet, swallowing the impulse to up-chuck. I had to get ready for school.
Mom finally stopped hitting me and sank to the bed. “How far along?”“I’ve missed three periods.”
Dad found out a few days later.
Wonderment seeped throughout my body. My mind lost its gray haze. Out loud, so I could hear the precious words, I said, “I am not condemned.” I must be forgiven – I am forgiven!
I hugged the Bible and danced around the room. When I looked in the box again I found Grandma’s hymnal. I can read music; I’ll sing.
We leaned over Sarah and hugged. Two women forgiven by Christ.
© Anna L. Russell