THE WRITING JAR

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 1 

Honorable Mention

AGES by Tim Romero

             “Every voice gives to wisdom.” The words she spoke still wake me up in the middle of the night. It was her way of making me think when she knew I didn’t want to expend the energy to do so. She was like that and that’s what made her so special. The day was August 11th of 2001, a week before I left home. Even today, when I walk into her memory-laden living room, I visualize her sitting in that bamboo rocker, rocking in a steady rhythm.  Her voice calls out to me through the dimensions. Now I know what she had meant.

 How life changes, grows, evolves. I knew where I was going, but life knew better. I had thought that my learning would take place behind fancy walls made of bricks and mortar and textured sheetrock. Then life took over. Or should I say the events of the world took over and I soon found myself learning about life in strange places from even stranger people. The basic beliefs, which I held about who was educated and who was ignorant, were tossed out the mud hut windows of the people with whom I came into contact.

I am a better person for the “knowledge” I have gained since I volunteered to change my goals. I also hope that the world is better as well. I now remember more clearly that day and her words. When she spoke, her words were measured, especially when she said “every”.

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 2

Distinguished Entry

by Holli Peterson

Standing outside the grocery store exit, under the shopping cart corral, is a bum seeking shelter from the rain.

His belongings are confined to garbage bags, his long hair is matted, and most of his face is hidden behind a tangled beard. He wears an indiscernibly mixed expression of meekness and humiliation. 

But, I shouldn’t feel guilty for choices that he made. 

He’s probably one of those types that strategically pick spots that generate the most profit – capitalize on buyer’s remorse. He probably makes a fortune off of their guilt and then spends it all on booze. 

Luckily, I’m no sucker! 

As I load my car, racing against the steadily pelting rain, I notice a manager approach.  

“I’m sorry but unless you’re a paying customer, you’ll have to leave.” 

“NOOOO!!!”  

My typically timid daughter, sitting in the cart, issues an animalistic, guttural scream. 

“Make him stop! Make him stop!” 

“What? Who?” 

“That man’s going to make Jesus stand in the rain! Jesus will get all wet and catch a cold!” 

In an instant, I understand. Our religious photos depict a Christ that’s very similar to this homeless man. Long hair. Bearded face. Deep, dark eyes. Few possessions. 

I had ruled the man to be a worthless alcoholic. But, my innocent daughter, unable to make cynical judgments, only saw the man in our pictures at home – the man touted as our example.  

Every voice gives to wisdom. 

“C’mon sweetheart. Let’s go see if we can get Jesus out of the rain.” 

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 3

2nd place

by Laurie Black

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 4

3rd place

 Call Center Blues by Angela Hardt Luke

     Every voice gives to reason.  Every heart thaws to kindness.  Or so the large sign in bold red script on the break room wall advertised.  What a crock.  Dana Birdsong knew better.  And by the looks of things, ninety percent of the people in the room agreed with her.  Tuned out expressions slumped over bowls of today’s special emphasized her point.  Whoever came up with that sign was full of it.  They apparently had never worked at a 24-hour computer technical support call center.  No, the author of the ‘Guru Sign’, as Dana like to call it, must have worked as a florist or as an e-card designer.   

Sipping her favorite green tea, trying to relax on break, Dana’s eyes strayed to the offending sign while her favorite daydream cycled through her mind. 

 In her dream, with the guru florist by the arm, Dana marched through the aisles of technicians until they stood at Dana’s cubicle.  Shoving the florist into the ergonomically cushioned chair, Dana used duct tape to secure her arms and legs.  Then tying the headphones to the florist’s head fixing the mouthpiece squarely, she pushed the ‘incoming’ call button on the phone.  A smile of pure glee broke out on Dana’s face as she heard the loud snarl of frustration coming clearly through the headphones announcing the first angry customer.

“Any bets on how much kindness and reason the florist can dispense before she totally loses it?”  Dana questioned her coworkers. 

Now she could enjoy her break.  

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 5

1st place

by Laurie Kolp

Dreams Understood

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 6

Participant Certificate

George Ann Ballard

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]

PHASE TWO - ENTRY 7

Participant Certificate

by Frankie Deyoung

Is this your favorite entry?  Email your vote to [email protected]