Sarah goes to camp

   This is a story I wrote for my english. I know it isn't the best thing I've ever written, but I have a few friends that really wanted me to post it.......

 Sarah normally loved the mile long walk up their driveway, but today she was in too much of a hurry to notice the spring flowers growing in the meadow, or the sweet country air.  She rushed into the house, just remembering to catch the screen door, before it banged shut. “Mother!” she called excitedly.

    Sarah heard a faint voice calling back, “I’m in the garden, dear.”

    Sarah quickly deposited her stuff in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, and rushed outside, nearly colliding with her father.

    “Oops!”  Sarah bent over her father’s wheelchair and kissed him. He smiled in amusement. “What has you so excited?” he asked.

    “I saw a poster today at school, and it’s for art camp! You know how I have always wanted to go to art camp!” Sarah paused for a moment, and lowered her voice for a moment. “But it’s $200 for two weeks.” Her voice went even lower. “We can’t afford that, can we?”

    Her father paused for a moment and looked thoughtful. He motioned her a little closer. “I’ll talk to your mother. I’ll see about letting you keep your wages from the store. It is your money after all.” He winked at her.

    Sarah smiled at him.  “Thank you!” She threw her arms around him.

    Sarah’s father glanced at his watch. His hand was a little shaky in doing so. Ever since the explosion at the nuclear plant, her father had never been the same again.

    “I’m going to go out and do my chores before Mr. Huff picks me up for work,” Sarah told her father. Mr. Huff was the store manager in town. Sarah was working at his store to earn a little extra money. Ever since her father had been in that accident at the nuclear plant, her father had never been allowed to go back to work. Sarah wasn’t exactly sure why. Her father seemed ok, and since he had only been making notes and trying to figure how the company could work better, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t walk. Money was always an issue, now that her father couldn’t work, and her mother often got crippling headaches. Perhaps the manager was a mean old grouch, and that’s why he fired her father. If that was the case, she hated that manager. Sarah went up to her room and pulled on a clean pair of jeans, and a t-shirt before going out and feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs. As Sarah was sorting the eggs, Mr. Huff pulled into the driveway.  He smiled and waved. Sarah called, “I’ll be ready in a minute.” Mr. Huff smiled and nodded. Sarah called a quick goodbye to her mother, who was still in the garden.

    Sarah slid into the front seat next to Mr. Huff. “How are you today Sarah?” he asked, after they passed the mailbox at the end of Sarah’s driveway.

    “I’m doing well, how about you?” Sarah asked in reply.

    Mr. Huff half shrugged before answering her. “Well, the store is having a few financial problems.” He hesitated, like he wanted to tell Sarah something else. He started to say something, but caught himself, and instead commented on the lovely weather.

    They arrived at Mr. Huffs’ store in about 15 minutes. Sarah slid out of the front seat, and pulled her backpack from the trunk. She looked at the store before walking inside. It was a rather old fashioned store. There was a porch on the front, with rocking chairs. There were barrels for tables, and a braided rug as a welcome mat. The afternoon sun slanted across the porch. Mrs. Huff was sitting in a sunny rocker, with a small grey tabby kitten sitting on her lap, purring. On the barrel table next to Mrs. Huff, sat a large glass of lemonade.

    “Good afternoon Mrs. Huff,” Sarah said.

    Mrs. Huff looked at her and smiled vacantly. Her mother had told her that Mrs. Huff had a bit of Alzheimer’s Disease. Sometimes Mrs. Huff recognized her, sometimes she didn’t. Sarah walked into the store. She pulled on her apron, and picked up the broom. Sarah glanced around at the walls at the store, and noticed they didn’t have a huge amount of merchandise on the shelves, but she didn’t think much of it.

    The hours at the store passed quickly. As she was getting ready to leave, Mr. Huff stopped her. “Sarah, do you remember how when I picked you up earlier, I told you the store was having financial problems?”

    Sarah nodded. “Yes.”

    Mr. Huff looked sad. “I’m getting older, and the store is getting harder and harder for me to run alone, especially because Beth,” Mr. Huff gestured to his wife, sleeping peacefully with the kitty on her lap, “can’t really help me anymore. I’m losing money just by running the store.”

    Sarah knew what was coming next.

    Mr. Huff summed everything up in four simple words.“I’m closing the store.”

    Two things passed through Sarah’s mind. One, she wouldn’t get to spend those few peaceful hours cleaning the store, and two, Sarah’s family really needed that $50 a week. Suddenly, Sarah realized that if the store closed, she could never go to camp that summer.

    “I’m sorry Sarah.”

    Sarah grabbed her bag and started walking away from the store.

    “Sarah, wait!” Mr. Huff called out.

     Sarah didn’t look back. She didn’t want him to see the tears streaming down her face. She needed some time alone, and since it was a nice day, she didn’t mind walking the four miles home.

    It was nearly eight o’clock when Sarah got the mail out of the mailbox. She knew her parents wouldn’t be very happy with her walking home by herself. Mr. Huff was sure to have called them by now. She wasn’t looking forward to explaining everything to them. Sarah walked up the long driveway and to the house. She put her hand on the doorknob, knowing that her parents would hear it the minute she turned the knob. Parents just seemed to know those types of things. Suddenly the door was yanked out of her hand. Startled, Sarah jumped back. Her mother stood there looking at Sarah. Then she gave Sarah a long, big hug. The mail slid out of Sarah’s hand and on to the porch floor.

    “Why don’t you get some dinner and go up to bed? You father had another headache tonight. We can talk about this tomorrow, OK?” her mother said.

    Sarah nodded, relieved. She didn’t really want to talk about it tonight. Sarah wanted a bit of time to think over her thoughts.

    The next day was Saturday, so Sarah’s parents slept late. Sarah sat on her bed, and dumped out her sock full of money. She counted her life savings. $129.92. She sighed, knowing she needed $70.08 more to pay for art camp. She wondered how on earth she was going to get that much more money. Then the answer came to her. She started to pray.

    Dear Lord, Thank you for Your many blessings. You know how much I really want to…. Sarah prayed for a while more. As she went on, she felt freer, knowing it was in His hands and whatever He wanted, he would do.

    “Sarah!” She heard her father’s deep voice calling her.

    “Yes?!” She called back downstairs.

    “Would you come here for a minute, please?”  

    “Coming!” she called. Quickly, she scooped her money back up into the sock, and stuffed it into her drawer. Sarah knew what her father wanted her for. She walked into the family room, and sat down on the rocking chair.

    “Sarah,” her mother started. “You do know our rule about walking home by yourself, correct?”

    She nodded.

   “And you also know the rules can only be broken in emergencies. Was it an emergency last night?” her mother asked gently. Sarah shook her head. Her mother and father reprimanded Sarah for breaking the family rules. Sarah couldn’t really say she enjoyed it, but she felt better after it.

    Around lunch time, they heard the mail truck delivering the mail. Sarah sprinted down to the mailbox. She was expecting a letter from her sister, who was in college. She sorted through the mail eagerly, but there was no letter. She walked back to the house. With her hand on the doorknob, she suddenly remembered dropping the mail last night. Now, where was it? She remembered dropping it right around here. She looked around, finding a few letters here and there. She picked them up and hoped she had gotten them all. Sarah went inside and tossed the mail onto a table.

    “Sarah, would you weed the garden, please?” her mother asked. “ I want to start planting some cooler weather crops, like lettuce.”

    “Yes, Mother.” Sarah replied.

    Grabbing a hoe from the shed, Sarah began to pull at the weeds. In the soft spring breeze, she saw a white envelope glide by.  Oh darn. I must have missed an envelope when I was gathering the mail. Sarah set the hoe down and caught the envelope. It read, “Miss Sarah Grove of Ashwick Valley, Minnesota”.  There was no return address on it. Sarah slid her finger under the flap and opened it. Inside was a blue sheet of paper. As Sarah opened the sheet, some money fell out. She read the letter with disbelief. Dropping the hoe, Sarah ran inside.

    “Mother! Mother! Look what I just found!” Mother was just as surprised as Sarah was. Her mother read the letter out loud.

     “Dear Sarah, I thought you might be able to use this money to go to camp. Enclosed is $71. If you don’t want to go to camp, please return this money to post office box #31. ~A friend~”

    Sarah’s mother looked at Sarah and sighed. “Camp is $200, and this is only $71. You still need $129 more to go to camp.”

    Sarah smiled and ran upstairs. A second later she came back holding a red striped sock. “I’ve been saving my tips from working at the store, and I have $129.92.”

    Sarah’s father rolled into the family room. Sarah quickly told him about the money. “Father, can I go to camp? Please?”

    He smiled. “I don’t see why not. You have the money, and your mother doesn’t seem to object.”

    Sarah studied very hard, and did enjoy camp very much. Nearing the end of the summer, her parents called her, for her nightly phone chat with them.

     “You got a letter today,” her mother told her.

     “Who is it from?” Sarah asked.

      “The same person who sent you the money for camp,” her father said.

       “What does the letter say?”

    Her father started reading. “Dear Sarah, since you have not returned the money I am assuming that you have used the money to go to camp. I am hoping that you enjoyed your time there, and that this letter will get to you before you leave camp. If you would care to meet me, you can meet me in the last seat on the number 7 greyhound bus leaving for Ashwick Valley, on August 22. If you don’t care to meet me, I totally understand. ~A friend~”

    Sarah and her parents decided that she should go meet the friend and thank him for his generosity. So, on August 22, at 3:30 PM, Sarah boarded the greyhound bus number 7. There were only a few people scattered here and there through the bus. Sarah looked in the back, at the very last seat. No one was sitting in it. Sarah walked over, wondering if she had the wrong bus. On the seat sat a note. She picked it up and opened it. It read: This note is for Sarah. If you don’t know what I am talking about, then you are most likely the wrong Sarah. Anyway, I was unable to come. I had a friend of mine leave this note for you. I thought you deserved to know who sent you the money. Who am I? I am your father’s former boss. That’s right, the one who fired him. You have every right to be mad at me, but please let me finish this note first. Back then, I was different. I thought I could do everything my way, and I didn’t need anyone to help me. Your father annoyed me to no end, as he was always talking about some Jesus person. When he got hurt, I fired him, thinking I was finally rid of him and his stupid God. I had a major crisis about six months ago. I realized that I couldn’t do anything on my own, and something my mother had talked about for years clicked. Jesus wasn’t just some man, he was the Son of God, the one and only God. After I was saved, I realized more and more of what I had done wrong. I also realized what my actions had done to others. One day, God spoke to me and convicted me of my sins. He told me that I needed to give your father his job back. A few days after that, I felt like I needed to send you $71 for camp. Sarah stopped reading for a minute. He had answered her prayer. Sarah remembered when she was little, praying for a Mr. James to become saved.

    “All aboard!” the bus driver called. “Please remain seated during the bus ride, and do not stick hands out the windows.”

    Sarah sat, and read the rest of the letter.

    That is my story Sarah, and if you still don’t want to forgive me I understand. Right now, your father is getting his job back. I have made accommodations to make the building more wheelchair accessible. If you further wish to contact me, you can email me at, james4him@gmail.com  ~Mr. James

    Sarah looked at the letter a long time before she moved. Pulling her tablet out of her backpack, she drafted an email. Dear Mr. James. Thank you for your note. I was angry at first but after reading your note I forgive you.  I remember when I was little praying for a Mr. James to become saved. He does answer prayers even if the answer is to wait a while. Thank you for giving my father his job back, and also thank you very much for the money to go to camp. I very much enjoyed camp. ~Sarah

    When Sarah got back home her mother and father rushed out to tell her the good news that her father had his job back. Standing there in the front yard, knowing that her father had a job, Sarah knew everything was going to be all right. They lived happily ever after.

The End