Short Story Contest Winner

hey guys! Everyone’s story was so well written and I had a hard time deciding.
But finally I chose.....



Izzy!!!



congratulations Izzy! would you mind emailing me your address so I can get your prize in the mail, please?

I know it was mean of me to give you such a short word count and made it hard to throw in some twists and turns in your plot. But it was almost harder in a way, right? haha

 I know... its a sad sight. I only got three entries. but I think my problem was that I made the amount of time that people had to write their stories inside of too long. then I think it just got procrastinated and forgotten. I mean, what was I thinking! it doesn't take a month for someone to write a 1100 word story. oh well.

well. here's the three entries:
Izzy @ Izzy West

My favorite time of year is Christmas. Ever since I came to New York City, I’ve always loved when it snowed, and the horses wore bells, and I could start hoping I would get a home before December 25.

    I became an orphan when I was only a wee little seven year old. I was dumped from the orphanage out on the road after they found out I’d done something awful. I found myself out in freezing weather, with just two pairs of clothes, and I soon grew out of my shoes.

    A mercantile owner took me in for a while until I was ten. I remember how happy I was, with the yellow twinkling Christmas lights on December 25, reaching up to hug Mr. Hoppington, his cozy mercantile home, and playing with Pup, his big, clumsy, black dog whom I loved. I remember fishing with Mr. Marley Hoppington in the churning river, catching trout as long as my arm.

    When I was twelve, Mr. Hoppington died. Pup was given away. I was on my own again; no more Christmas with a man who I had just started calling Pa.

    My name is Felix Pederson and this is the story of my best Christmas ever.

New York winters are cold, especially when you have nothing to wear but a shirt, a flimsy jacket, jeans, and shoes with holes. Thirteen-year-old Felix hunkered against the old Hoppington Mercantile wall, shivering. Snowflakes spotted his dark hair, his fingers were blue with cold. He sniffed and swiped a sleeved arm across his nose, watching the dark figures of bundled people scurry back and forth between sidewalks. The horses pranced down the cobblestone streets, bells jingling merrily. Although it was only three in the afternoon, the snow clouds in the sky darkened it hazily. The orange glow of lamp cast shadows on the ground. To the people on the road with cloaks and scarves, it all seemed cozy and they marched gaily to wherever they were going.

    To Felix, it was miserable and frightening.

    The boy pushed from the wall, nimbly dodging the long strides of businessman, making his way towards the cafe. He yanked his hat farther over his head, jabbed his shaking fingers into his jean pockets, hunched his back, and wiggled his toes as he walked. Keep moving, he told himself. If only he had a dollar or two and could get something to eat! Flapjacks like Mr. Hoppington’s sounded wonderful. Hunger gnawed his stomach like a dog eating a bone. He needed food and warmth, quick.

    Begging crossed Felix’s mind briefly, but he shook his head. He wasn’t a beggar, and would never become one, even if it meant starvation.

    But that is silly, Felix told himself. Try being a newsboy, or a pickpocket. But he had no mob, no talent, no spunk like the other boys. Instead this was where he found himself; stuck out in the cold with no clothes.

    Felix shut his eyes momentarily to get a picture of Christmas with Mr. Hoppington; making himself blind and so he could not see. It wasn’t long before a hand found itself around his wrist.

    “You almost ran into me, lad,” a deep but friendly voice chuckled. “Be you blind?”

    Felix’s eyes flew open. “Oh, I’m so sorry, mister!” He scrambled out of the way, but the man’s hand tightened around his wrist. He turned slowly around and braced himself for a smack on the ear.

    The man was tall, heavy-set, and bearded. His icy blue eyes, however, held no annoyance or anger. He was wrapped in cozy winter clothes. Beside him and hanging onto his arm was a young girl about Felix’s age with curly brown hair. Her eyes were wide with wonder and fear.

    “P-please, sir, I’m sorry,” Felix stammered, eyes fixed on the scarf the man was snuggled down into. “Let me go, please.”

    “Nonsense,” the man snorted. “You’re shivering like nothing I’ve ever seen. Come with me, will you? For food and drink, decent clothes, and, how about a night at my house in a bed?”

    Felix’s eyes widened. Nobody had ever offered this, other than poor Mr. Hoppington. “S-sir, why are you so kind?” His teeth clattered.

    “Because I knew a man named Hoppington who took in a young boy like you,” the man said, suddenly somber. “And you seemed so much like the boy that I-” He stopped as he saw Felix nervously shift from foot to foot. He arched his eyebrows, perplexed, and then sighed. “What do you say, lad?”

    “Sure,” Felix replied meekly. “Sounds . . . good.”

    When Felix and his rescuer (named Fred Dodson and his daughter Sarah) stepped into the house the family lived in, warmth crept into Felix’s clothes. His chapped, red cheeks flamed as he stepped closer to the fire. Already packages were under the Christmas tree, glittering yellow gold about the room. The furnace held something delicious in it, the fire crackled in the hearth, and what Felix had wanted to solve came true: warmth on Christmas Eve. Tears crept into his eyes and splashed onto his cheeks before he could wipe them away. Quickly and swiped at them. “I knew Mr. Hoppington,” he whispered.

“You did?” Fred’s eyes opened like a trap door.

“He - he called me his son.” Felix turned to Fred and opened his chapped lips. “He died and I had no home. You took me in. I think God arranged it; the best Christmas present ever.”

Fred’s mouth dropped open before he pulled Felix into a warm hug. “I promised Marley I’d find the boy he raised someday and take him in - Sarah’s mother died and my daughter needs a playmate.” He held him at arms length and gazed deep into Felix’s cornflower blue eyes. “When I never found the boy, I felt horrible. And here we are, on Christmas Eve, and you have a home.”

A sudden yip brought Felix’s attention to the doorway leading to the bedrooms. A big black dog with white hairs around his eyes stood there. He saw Felix and raced over, then started to lick his face. Tears poured down Felix’s cheeks. “Pup! Oh, Pup!” He buried his face in the furry coat. Thank You, Jesus. Merry Christmas.

Laura @ Flowers In My Basket

  “Grandma, Grandma, tell us a story!” nine year old Becky pleaded. “Yes, yes!” her little sister, Rachel, agreed.

  “Okay, but just one, because it’s getting late,” the Grandma told them with a smile. “Come, let’s go out to the living room with your great aunt Katharine and sit by the fire,” she beckoned. Once they were all comfortably seated, Grandma began.

  “Many years ago, a little girl named Lizzie lived in a cabin with her father, mother, and baby sister, Katie. They lived in a clearing in the forest, along with two other families. Since they were so far from any other people, the three families grew very close. 

  One morning early in March, Lizzie went outside, and was surprised to see that the beautiful yellow daffodil next to their doorstep had bloomed. “Spring has come!” the young girl exclaimed. Quickly she ran inside. “Mother, the daffodil has bloomed; winter is over! May I pick it?”

  “That’s wonderful, Lizzie! Please don’t pick the daffodil, though. How about you put on your cloak, and see if you can find some wildflowers.”

  “Must I wear my cloak, Mother? Spring has come!”

  Mother chuckled. “Yes dear, you must wear your cloak. It’s still chilly outside, though I think this cold weather is almost over.”

  Lizzie slipped on her cloak, grabbed a basket, and ran out the door. She headed to the edge of the clearing, where she remembered seeing wildflowers in previous years. Suddenly she heard something behind her and stopped. Nervously she turned around. “Oh Max, it’s just you!” she cried out relieved as she rubbed the faithful dog’s head.

  She walked along the edge for a while, but was unsuccessful in her search for flowers. Finally, she saw something purple popping out from behind a tree in the woods. She hesitated. “What if there are bears in the forest?” she wondered. She decided she would just run, get the purple flowers, and come right back. She quickly jumped over a fallen tree, moved her way past some prickly briars, and came to the beautiful violets. “These are perfect!” she cried, gathering a handful. She was about to turn back, when Max began to run further into the woods. “Max! Come back!” she called out, but he wasn’t listening. She ran after him. He kept running and running, finally stopping at a tree, and barking loudly. “You ran all this way because of a squirrel?” Lizzie said, and sat down on a stump. 

  Finding some more flowers, she got up and began to gather more. After a few minutes, she told Max, “We should probably head back home.” She looked around. She didn’t recognize anything. She began to grow nervous. “Which way should we go? Every direction looks the same.” she sat back down.

  Suddenly a chilly breeze blew by, causing her to hug her cloak tight around herself to keep warm. Snow began to fall, lightly at first, then harder. “I have to get home,” Lizzie said aloud, this time in a more urgent tone. She looked around again. “I think we may have come from that way,” she said at last, and they began to head in that direction.

  The snow continued to come down, and a layer of white was quickly covering the ground. The wind blew harder, and a large branch flew by. “Come Max!” Lizzie cried out, and began to run. The snow was blinding her, but still she ran on. Suddenly the ground was gone, and she fell into a ditch. A few  minutes passed before she came to her senses. She cried out in pain, her leg hurt badly, and her head throbbed.. She looked up and saw Max up on the path where she had been before she fell. “Oh, I can’t do it. I can’t go any further.”  she said. Looking up to the sky, she prayed. “Please dear God, please help me!” With that, she slipped into a deep sleep, but before she did, she saw Max run off

  “Lizzie! Lizzie!” called a man as he walked through the forest. “Yell back if you hear me! Elizabeth!” He paused, hearing a rustle in the brush nearby. “Lizzie?” Out jumped a mangy, cold, and tired dog. “Max!” the man exclaimed. Max grabbed his shirt with his teeth and was pulling him further into the woods. “Are you trying to show me something?” the man asked. Hopeful, he followed. The dog led him on for a while. After twenty minutes or so, the man thought, “Perhaps you’re just having fun with me. I have to go back.”  Max quickened his pace, pulling him along. Suddenly, Max jerked him back, just in time to stop him from falling. The dog barked loudly, looking down into the ditch. Hesitatingly, the man  looked down. “Lizzie!” he cried, seeing the little girl. “Lizzie, stay there!” Quickly he tried to find a way down. Lizzie blinked a few times, and opened her eyes. “Father?” she whispered. He made his way down, and carefully scooped the little girl into his arms. 

  “Where’s Mother?” she asked. 

  “At home, with baby Katie,” he told her, as he walked back towards the clearing. “We were all so worried. Finally, Max led me to you.” Lizzie looked up. “Thank You Lord,” she prayed, “for sending Max, and saving me.”

  “Was she okay?” Rachel asked. “You said her leg was hurting.”

  “Oh yes, her leg had gotten twisted, but that healed in a few days.” Grandma answered. “Everyone was so happy when we returned.  All three families gathered in my home, and we drank hot cocoa and sang songs.”

  “Your house?” Becky asked. “You’re Lizzie?”

  “Yes,” Grandma said with a laugh. “I’m Lizzie. Katie, would you bring out some cookies?” she asked Aunt Katharine. 

  “Of course,” she answered, and they all snacked on delicious chocolate chip cookies before falling fast asleep.

Brooklyne @ Showers Of Blessings

year old Janie Bailey stretched her arms high above her head with a big yawn. Today was the day. Her school spelling bee was at 5:00PM. She had practiced long and hard in the last week of preparation for this major event. Her family was counting on her to win the grand prize of 5,000 dollars! Her father said that even though he was working two jobs, he could still put the money to good use. He was positive that she was going to win. Her little brother, Danny, was starting grade next year and her parents would need the prize money for those extra expenses. Danny also kept complaining about eating ramen for dinner. Janie felt pressure to win from everyone except for her mother.

“Even if you don’t win first, honey, you will still be a winner in my book.” Her mother had said. 

But Jamie knew from the look in her mothers eyes that the money was needed in order for them to pay next months rent. Medical bills took up most of her fathers income. Her dear mother did not mean to be sick all the time. But that didn’t change the fact that her mother stayed in her bedroom and stared out the curtain-less window, days on end.

White tufts of snow continuously fell. Drifts piled along the sidewalk just outside of their apartment. Janie made a mental note to shovel the snow before it turned to ice for Crazy Old Cat Lady to slip on. Their next door neighbor was famous for rescuing animals, having a especially soft spot for kittens.

Janie got dressed, throwing on a hand-me-down yellow shirt and worn blue jeans. She brushed her long auburn hair and quickly tied it up in a sloppy ponytail. That will have to do for now, she shrugged into the mirror. The girl staring back at her was plain, nothing special. The only thing Janie felt like she was good at was spelling the words her teachers gave her. They said her mind was like a steel trap. That must be good, right? 

She looked down at her sweaty palms and pushed away the doubt threatening to creep into her steel trap. Stubbornly shaking her head, she shook a finger at her reflection in the mirror above the chipped, rust-stained sink. 

“You are going to win that prize whether you think you can or not! You will do better than the best you can do!” 

Her self-talk was interrupted by her brother’s call. 

“Janie! Phone!” His high-pitched six year old voice pierced the dusty air of the apartment complex. 

Danny had appointed himself as the “official phone picker-upper” and met each incoming call with a speech that would make any adult smile at it’s sweetness. Danny was always sweet, unless you messed with his Lego creations. Then, you better watch out for the little man and his pea shooter.  

“Coming!” Janie practically tripped out the door, hurrying. 

Danny handed her the phone and she placed it to her ear, “Hello?” 

“Is this Janie?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Hattie Williams, your next door neighbor. Do you remember me? You probably see me playing with my kittens on the front porch. Well, anyway, your sweet mother said that I need to drive you to your spelling bee since she wasn’t feeling good and your father is working his night shift. I will pick you up at 4:30PM to give us enough time to get there, ok?” 

“Ok, see you then.” 

When the Click! sounded on the other side of the line, Janie hung up on her end with a sigh. What if I don’t win?

4:30PM came around, and with it came a honking car horn announcing the Crazy Old Cat Lady’s arrival. Janie quickly set Danny up with a movie and told her mother goodbye. 

“Wish me luck!”

Mother halted Janie in her rushed tracks, “Luck won’t have anything to do with you winning, dear. I said a prayer for you tonight. If you win, it will only be because God is answering my prayer in the way I wish. And even if you don’t win, God is still answering my prayer, just in a different way. God sometimes says “Yes” to our prayers, then other times He says “Wait” but He always has our best interest in mind. Have faith, Janie, for He is always faithful. Now,” she winked, “go break a leg!” 

Janie smiled then ran to Mrs. Williams’ car.

What if God doesn’t answer Mama’s prayer? What if winning has everything to do with luck and nothing to do with God? How can I have faith in God when everything seems to be going wrong? Her thoughts jumbled.

The spelling bee was held in a large classroom. Children lined up in the front row. Thirty minutes passed, each of the participants took turns spelling words, until the group of kids began to diminish in size as each word got harder. There was five kids left—Janie was among them.

Her heart beat faster as they called her name and told her the word to spell. She cautiously walked up to the microphone, “Encyclopedia, e-n-c-y-c-l-o-p-e-d-i-a.” 

“Correct.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, she got back in line. Finally there was only two girls left to compete for the prize. Janie and Kelly—the girl who was the most popular kid in school. 

God, if Your listening, help me to win this prize. Not for me but for Mama, Daddy, and Danny.

The lady, who was hosting the spelling bee, spoke to Kelly first “Kelly, your word is assurance.”

“Assurance, a-s-s-u-r-” Kelly hesitated with a gulp, “e-n-c-e.” 

The buzzer went off, “Incorrect. Kelly, you may take a seat. Janie, you may now have a chance to win the grand prize by spelling the word ‘assurance.’” 

Janie squeezed her eyes shut, pleading to a God who she didn’t even have assurance that He was listening to her prayers.

“Assurance, a-s-s-u-r-a-n-c-e.”

“Correct! Congratulations, you won the grand prize of 5,000 dollars!” The crowd cheered, and among them, the Crazy Old Cat Lady whistled her applause. Janie winked at her and she waved back. 

For the whole ride home, Janie was esthetic and couldn’t wait to tell her parents the good news. I guess God was faithful after all! 

Janie closed her eyes reverently in prayer, thanking God for His faithfulness. 

Hebrews 4:16

“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”