Story Telling Day!

"It's all storytelling, you know. That's what journalism is all about."

~ Tom Brokaw~

"The storytelling gift is innate: one has it or one doesn't. But style is at least partly a learned thing: one refines it by looking and listening and reading and practice - by work." ~Donna Tartt~

Today is Storytelling day. I thought about several different ways of doing this blog today but decided to share one of my old stories. I hope you enjoy my story!

Something Old; Something New
A story By Patricia Sawyer.

Lisbet sat with her back against the wall and watched the leaves fall through the broken window. The sun was going down and soon another day would be gone. She wondered how many days she had been sitting here.

As the sun faded away behind the clouds the shadows slowly settled around the room. They covered the leaves piled under the window, and then the train tossed on the sagging old reading table. Finally even the tiny metal soldiers, marching in their crooked lines across the toy chest, were hidden in the darkness.

Lisbet was very sad. Every night she would sit awake and remember when she was new. Her dress had been Baby blue satin, fit for a princess. Not this untidy scrap she wore now. Her long dark hair had been braided neatly and tied with shiny blue ribbons instead of hanging dirty and tangled as it did right now. She had even worn shoes on her tiny feet and a snowy white bonnet on her head. But most of all Lisbet had a girl back then. A girl of her very own to love and share secrets with. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered how much longer she would have to wait. She wished she could be "New" again.

Lisbet woke just as the sun was peaking over the tree tops. She knew it was still early and wondered what had awakened her. She looked all around the dim dusty attic. The leaves were still piled under the broken window. The cobwebs still hung wispy, white in the corners. The train was still on the table and the soldiers were still marching in their crazy, crooked lines. Everything looked the exactly the same. Then she understood. It wasn't something she could see. It SOUNDED different! She heard voices! She wiggled close to the edge of her shelf trying to hear better. It had been so long since she had heard voices! "Oh MY goodness!" she said to herself, "Maybe I will be new again!" She was certain she heard the ring, ring of a phone, and the clang clang of pots as someone cooked breakfast. She hadn't seen a breakfast in a long long time. She could feel her doll heart beat with excitement. Then she heard a loud slam and everything was silent again.

Lisbet sat back against the wall and began to think that she had just been dreaming. She had hoped that a family had come here to live in the old house once again. A family with some boys for the train and the soldiers. A family with a girl for herself. In the early morning quietness Lisbet was even sadder. " Just a stupid dream!" she thought. All day Lisbet watched the clouds float by and thought about her dream. She had been certain that she had heard sounds from downstairs.

CLONK! CLUMP! PLUNK!

"What was that?" Lisbet wondered. She looked at the old train. It was still as before.

CLONK! CLUMP! PLUNK!

" I know I heard it then !" she said. She looked at the soldiers. Their lines didn't seem nearly so crooked all of a sudden.

THUMP..... THUMP......THUMP.....THUMP....

She knew it! She knew someone was coming. Someone was climbing the old staircase hidden in the upstairs closet. Someone was coming up to the attic. She was so excited she could barely sit still. The rusty bolt scraped as it slid back. The old hinges squeaked loudly as the door was slowly pushed open.

Lisbet quietly watched the child standing in the door. He wore an old tattered baseball cap and faded jeans. As he gazed around the darkened room he tossed a ball into the air, catching it in his other hand. "Ma! Come quick!" he yelled as he ran out and down the stairs. "A boy," thought Lisbet. "Just a boy! But at least Mr train and the soldiers will be new again, " she whispered. "remember me," she said to her friends.

"Look ma!" said the boy as he flung the door open toppling half of the soldiers. " Look at all this neat stuff! Can I have it?" he asked. "Well, we did buy the farm, so I guess whatever was left here belongs to us too," Said Ma. Ma told the boy to bring everything downstairs.

Lisbet tried to be brave as the Boy carefully untangled the old train. " some fresh paint and you'll be good as new." he mumbled. Next he tucked all the soldiers into a big old hatbox. "I sure like the way these march," he muttered to himself. Now standing almost directly below her. Lisbet had closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see her friends leave her alone.

As quick as a wink Lisbet's legs were Jerked from the shelf and she was falling. Falling right into the open arms of the BOY! " And for you," said a soft voice in a whisper, "first a bath and then some new clothes. My Other dolls will like you just fine." "OH MY!" thought Lisbet. " A Girl! Not a boy at all! Just a girl who likes trains and soldiers and DOLLS! Finally another Girl to Love.

Finally a girl of my own!"

Later Lisbet sat on the ruffled bed in the downstairs bedroom. She had been scrubbed clean as a whistle. That's what the girl had said. She was wearing a pretty new dress of pink satin. Ma had even found a tiny black pair of of shoes for her at a store in town.

She looked above the bed to the shelf where Mr. Train sat on a section of track beside a newer train. The paint really had made him look good as new. Next she looked over the window sills where the soldiers marched in straight neat lines along with some newer soldiers. They looked like a royal army marching in step across the windows. With all the dust gone, they too looked good as new.

Finally, Lisbet looked happily at the pink cheeked little girl sleeping there beside her. "Thank you!" whispered Lisbet, "Thank you for taking us away from the dark dirty attic." And as she closed her glass eyes for a night of Dolly dreams she whispered, "Thank you for making something old; something New again!"

I hope you enjoyed My story. for story telling day. I wrote this story October 8, 1986 for an assignment for a children's story writing class. I hope you enjoyed it. I love to tell stories. ask my family they will tell you it's so. Happy storytelling day. If you have kids or grand kids or maybe even just a friend. Tell them a story today. Let your thoughts free to share. And hopefully someone will share their own story with you. Have a great day!

Patsy