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500 X 12 - Mission

 
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 9:19 am    Post subject: 500 X 12 - Mission Reply with quote


Here you go all. I'm looking forward to the stories you come up with for this image.

Mission
The image in appears in its original context on the page:

memory.loc.gov/.../ habs_haer/hhmap01.html


shadowlight

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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 1:41 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Dear Father.
One year ago you left us. It is still difficult to believe it. One year ago they turned off light in your windows, and we thought that the world would lose heart for ever. Nothing could fill the sudden emptiness in our souls. We were helpless like little children without their beloved father.
We, your compatriots, owe everything to you because we owe freedom to you. We were allowed to get to know a normal world without any oppressors.
You showed us a sense of good life and a sense of suffering. You always repeated that we should place our faith in God, and that we always should hope. You said that the hope would come true some day, and we believed every your word.
We are better people thanks to you because you were our Great Teacher. You taught us to live, and you gave us the last lesson how to die. We wish we had been your better students. Today your words seem to have special meaning to us. Today we miss your support.
Your life was more important than your words. Your life was a special and wonderful mission. Your life was a paragon to us, though it is very difficult to follow it. But you taught us what is really essential for us.
Today it’s very difficult for us to hold back tears.
Today we pray for you, and sing your favorite song “A Barge”. Today we are united in pain, again, like one year ago.
We still love you, Father – Great Wanderer and Great Teacher. And we’ll never stop loving you. You have a special place in our hearts and in our souls for ever.
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Harry
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 3:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

A very gentle yet passionate tribute, Jolanta. It sounds like something read at a funeral for a beloved parent. It's amazing how a simple picture like this one can stimulate a fertile imagination.
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 10:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thank you very much, Mr Harry, for your comment.


Jolanta
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Harry
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 03, 2006 8:08 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Suor Angelica
(from the opera by Puccini)

Harry Buschman


Sister Angelica looked across the field at the seminary. It was late afternoon now, the shadows lengthening and she had been working in the field all day. She was thirsty - hungry too. But most of all she wondered why the Abbess hadn’t called her in.

Her aunt was supposed to come this afternoon. She hadn’t seen anyone in her family for nearly ten years. It had been so long. Her son would be eleven now. A big boy. Would she know him if she saw him, would he forgive her for not being a mother to him all these years. She tried to remember whether his eyes were blue like his father’s but they took him from her so soon - the very first day. She never had a chance to nurse him.

Her sister was being married, and it was something about signing some papers. Yes that was it. Her aunt wanted to sign over her inheritance to her sister. She didn’t care, she didn’t mind being disowned from her family, she was part of a larger family now. But still she missed her son, she would always miss him. What did he look like? What would he become?

Finally there was the bell, and the abbess stood at the gate. “Sister Angelica, your aunt is here. She wishes to see you in my office. Walk with your eyes cast down, sister. Do not speak unless you are spoken to.”

She signed the papers quickly, without really looking. She did raise her eyes, however, and with them she pleaded for news of her son. At last she could stand it no longer and in a timid voice she asked her aunt about her son. “I don’t even know his name. Please tell me if he is well - does he ever ask for his mother?”

“We named him Edgardo,” his aunt replied evasively. “He fell ill three years ago. In spite of everything we could do he died of pneumonia.” She gathered up the papers and without another word left the room.

the end
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 2:32 pm    Post subject: The Mission (WC 500) Reply with quote

The Mission
© Marlicia Fernandez 4-6-06 (WC 500)


The engine’s odd cadence roused Scott from sleep. Turbulence rocked the aircraft like the proverbial baby cradle. Outside thunder boomed. Had lighting hit the plane?

The cabin lights flickered.

Scott sprang to his feet, struggling to keep his balance as the transport bounced along, strong air currents mitigating the rate of descent. The case attached to his wrist slammed against his thigh a painful indication that he wasn’t dreaming.

Black smoke seeped through the cockpit. The smell of gasoline filled the small craft. Scott grabbed a chute, put it on and made his way forward. By the time he reached his destination, flames slithered beneath the closed door and around the edges. He placed his hand against the metal and pulled it back with muttered oath.

“Stupid,” he grumbled. He looked at his reddening palm and regretted nothing. At least now he knew he wouldn’t leave anyone alive behind.

The door began to bulge warning Scott of a possible explosion. He checked his case and his chute. Running to the nearest emergency exit, he opened the door. The lights flickered and died. The last thing he knew as he made the jump was a loud explosion and wall of flame following close behind. He pulled his chord and lapsed into darkness deeper than the night sky.

*** ***

Bells chimed nearby waking the man. He groaned and tried to open his eyes.

“So you’ve decided to wake,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

The voice sounded amused. “Why don’t you see for yourself? I’m Padre Velasquez and you’ve had an accident. You are at the Santa Maria Mission Hospital.”

“I’m a patient?” The man opened his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the bright afternoon sunlight. Indistinct images became more focused. “What kind of accident was I in?”

The Padre frowned. “How much do you remember?”

Cradling his head in his hands, the patient tried to ease his pain. “Not much.”

“I see.” The Padre adjusted the bedding. “Try to get some rest. Later we’ll feed you and see if we can help you regain your memory.”

*** ***

The Padre turned out the light and closed, the door and walked down the hall into the next room. Two men looked up from the brief case and its contents spread across the large oak table.

“Well, Von Mueller?” one said. “What have you learned? When can we expect to gain information from our guest?”

“That is uncertain,” the ‘padre’ replied. “He has amnesia.

The second man slammed his hand on the table, scattering papers. “That is not acceptable. We have here all the information we need to hand our enemies a shattering defeat, but we can’t understand what he says. It’s all coded and jumbled, like a jigsaw with pieces missing. Get his memory back now. If we miss this opportunity, you and your family will the price.”

The padre saluted and smiled grimly. “I am honored to serve the cause.” Out in the courtyard the Santa Maria Mission Bell tolled.

[end]

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Last edited by shadowlight on Thu Apr 06, 2006 5:43 pm; edited 1 time in total
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 4:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jolanta,

I love your tribute, very inspiring and says what I feel in many ways about John Paul II on the anniversary of his death. Regardless of whom you were eulogizing, this was very moving and well done. Thank you for sharing it.


Harry,

Yours was such a sad tale. I can only wonder why the woman gave up her child and became a nun, though I think I can probably make a fairly accurate guess. I thought the aunt was a little cruel in the handling of the situation, but I liked the fact the Suor Angelica has managed to find some peace and a surrogate family in the convent. That leaves the reader with a measure of hope for her.

I liked this very much.

I really enjoyed both pieces.

shadowlight

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Harry
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 5:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Apparently the picture did something to you that it didn’t do to Jolanta and me. A great story Marlicia and very welcome and unexpected as well.
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 10:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Marlicia,
I admire your inventiveness. Your text is very interesting. Again, you coped with a "male" situation in a great way.

Harry,
your story is closer to my heart...

Thank you for nice words.

Jolanta Smile
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 10:48 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Harry,

Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this for me and for your kind words. I'm glad you liked it.

It's funny. I had the hardest time with this prompt. Finally, I thought about the different meanings of the word 'mission' and voila! Smile It came out pretty much in a rush.


Thanks again, Harry,

marlicia

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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 10:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jolanta,

You must have been posting while I was writing my reply to Harry. Wink I want to thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this for me and for your kind words. I love adventure stories and I guess it comes out in my writing. LOL

Thanks again,

marlicia

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Harry
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 11:50 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jolanta

Glad you liked the little opera plot. In Puccini's opera Sister Angelica takes poison after her Aunt leaves. She hopes that by doing this she will see her son in Heaven. Then she suddenly realizes she has committed a sin by taking her life. It gives the soprano a golden opportunity to sing three or four arias in tandem and squeezes every last drop of emotion out of the story.
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 12:10 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks for explanation.
I have watched the opera, but it was about ten years ago...

Jolanta
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