Happy Day - Part 1

Good Morning Friday Fiction Fans!
It doesn't seem possible that it can be Friday already! The week has flown by! On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I spent the day teaching a writing class of 32 children ages 9-13. There were some crazy moments, but overall I really enjoyed it. :)

I haven't gotten a bit of writing done this week. I know, it is rather sad. I'm trying to get used to my new computer and figure some things out. I'm hoping to get to work on TCR-3 very soon as I now have all the illustrations! Yippee! I can't wait to make this book available to you favorite readers. :)

I know this if short, but I really don't have a whole lot of time nor a whole lot to tell you, and instead of rambling on and on about nothing, I'll just stop.

Now I have to decide which story to start today. Hmm, let me go look . . . I decided on a story.

Happy Day

Part 1

    Dear Diary,
    I just got you today, but since I couldn’t wait to use you, I decided to start writing tonight. I’ll probably have to finish in the morning because Grandma will be coming up soon to tuck me in.
    This day has been the happiest day of my life! Always and forever I’ll never forget it. And just so I can remember all the details, I wanted to write them down. Daddy said I’m good at remembering all the little things, but I might forget them when I get to be old, like in my thirties, and then I couldn’t tell them to my children and grandchildren. Of course I know I wouldn’t have grandchildren when I am in my thirties, but later on I really might not remember everything or they might get mixed up in my mind. I want to set them down forever in this lovely, pink diary.
    Maybe I should tell it all like a story. I do like to tell stories. Aunt Anna said I tell the younger ones splendid stories. But this isn’t for the younger ones, it’s for the older ones, but mostly it’s for me, and Daddy and Mama. I love to write that name: Mama. How sweet it looks!
    But I must begin.

    I suppose I should go way back to when I was just a baby practically. I was only nineteen-months-old when my mother got very sick and died. Being so young, I don’t remember it or her at all. Of course I’ve seen Mother’s picture lots of times, but it’s not the same. Pictures can’t kiss you or hold you on their lap when you are tired. But a Daddy can. Daddy raised me himself. Well, almost by himself. Aunt Anna helped some when I was little before she got married, and Grandma and Grandpa helped too, but mostly it has just been Daddy and me.
    We’ve had a good time together, just us two. Daddy took me out on a sailboat one time, and we flew in an airplane to visit Daddy’s Uncle Josh in Maine when I was eight. I didn’t like the plane too much, but I wasn’t scared because Daddy was there.

    Life hasn’t been all happy though. I mean, when I was little I had a temper. I still have one, but Daddy and I have been praying and Jesus is helping me control it better. But when I was little, I’d get stubborn sometimes when I was told to do something and then when I got in trouble I’d scream and be just awful. I remember one time especially.
    I think I was about four when it happened. I was staying with Aunt Anna, and Daddy was expected to come pick me up any minute. Aunt Anna told me to clean up a mess I had made, but I said no and just stood there. Aunt Anna said, “If you won’t pick up, then you can sit in that chair until your daddy comes.”
    Well, Diary, I didn’t like that and I threw myself on the floor and screamed. Just then Daddy walked in. He didn’t say a word, just picked me up and spanked me. I don’t remember many spankings, but that one I do remember. Then I picked up the toys. So you see, life wasn’t always easy for me or for Daddy.

    I remember another time when I was about seven. I had been in bed for some time, but I couldn’t get to sleep. Finally I decided to risk a spanking by getting up and going to see Daddy. Slipping into the living room, I saw Daddy seated in his chair staring at a picture of Mother. And Diary, he was crying! Until then I didn’t know that Daddy’s ever cried. I forgot all about maybe getting a spanking and just flew across the room and onto his lap. There I put my arms around his neck and whispered, “Don’t cry, Daddy, I’m here.”
    Then Daddy put his arms about me and held me oh so tight. He didn’t say a word for a long time. We just held on to each other in silence. I think that was the first time I knew that Daddy was lonely sometimes, and I started to pray that he wouldn’t be so lonely.

    Now I must go to bed, Diary. Grandma is here to tuck me in.

    I’m back again. Grandma, Grandpa and I just ate breakfast and Grandma asked what I was going to do this morning. (Aunt Anna is going to take me roller-skating this afternoon.) I told her I was going to write everything down about yesterday so I’d never forget if I lived to be as old as her and Grandpa, and so, here I am.
    Where was I? Oh, yes.
    As I grew older, Daddy and I did everything together. Well, almost everything. I still couldn’t go on all his business trips, but I have gotten to go on many. One time we went to Hawaii! The beach was so warm and the water was so blue and we had such a wonderful time that neither of us wanted to go home again.

    I recall hearing people talking about me since I was little. It might have been because Daddy wasn’t very good at doing hair, so mine was usually a mess unless Aunt Anna did it, and my clothes, though they were clean, were often wrinkly. I didn’t care about that, but the talk bothered me. It was as though they thought I couldn’t hear when I was standing right near them or something because they would say to each other, “That child needs a mother’s hand.”
    And the other would reply, “I’ve told Paul that many times (Paul is my Daddy’s name), but he always says they get by.”
    Now I never thought that kind of talk was very nice. I mean Daddy was right. We were getting along, and just fine too. But that was before I turned nine.

Do you like it so far?

Will you be back next Friday for Part 2?