The mountains glisten in the early morning dew, it was brisk. The blue skies and purple mountains was in complete harmony and awe. The earth began to rumble as the scene below contrast with nature’s beauty and power. Iron rails placed by man cut through the landscape like a sore thumb. Smoke rose up from the top of the trees as the noise grew louder. The iron horse raced through the landscape at untold speeds, and inside was one solemn man. The inside of the cart had a red carpet, with a wood colored wallpaper, with blue velvet benches along the ends with a row through the middle filled with busy bees. A girl walked through the legs to get across to an weary man sitting alone, staring out the window. Her mystics blue eyes sparked in the sun that reflected off the worn window.
“Howdy-doo mister?” she said boldly with a big smile on her face, and sent out a chubby hand out for a shake.
The man smiled and firmly took the handshake and replied, “Doing mighty well, thank you little missy” His eyes dulled as his gaze shifted down to his sheets supported by a small creaky wooden table, that rattled slightly as the train moved along through the Pennsylvanian landscape.
“Whut in tarnation is yo' wawkin' on,” she demanded as she looked over the unstable desk and saw a paper filled with words and writing along the sides and inked revisions.
He straighten his back and gave a weary sigh as he looked at the innocent southern girl and retorted, “Today I have a burden to get off my shoulder. I have to give someone hope, and faith, and I’m not sure if I can… I … I have a responsibility to fulfil and… I frankly scared,” his shoulders slumped as he rested his head on his broad chest.
“Mah Mammy told me thet mah gran'Pappy had t'fight fo' freedom 47 years ago now. ah live in his memo'y an' now it's like mah gran'Pappy died fo' nothin'. Today we is a-gonna mah Paw's funeral.” she slowly lifted up her head and looked up at the shabby man’s face with a tear running down her sleek cheek continued and said, “ah heard thet th' president hisse'f is a-comin' t'dedicated th' groun' fo' mah Pappy. We is in a war, a bad war. Mah Paw fought fo' mah freedom, an' as all ready dedicated this hyar groun', fo' America. He fought so thet i might live, an' yo' too mister. Eff'n we doesn't finish drinkin' whut's in our glass we'd evah haf freedom, dawgone it. Not evah.” She cried as tear drops fell upon the red velvet carpet, and leaned into the side of the man. She soon gave way, and fell into slumber. The man returned to his notes and wrote fiercely with the image of the crying girl fresh on his mind. A new sheet of paper was quickly filled with the power of a raging lion in them. His eyes bright with the spirit of freedom and knew what he was going to say.
The girl woke up with her hair matted down from sleeping on the cushions. She looked around and saw the man was gone. She felt a hand on her shoulder as a middle age woman said, “Helter-skelter up sweetheart, we is a-gonna miss th' speech.” She took her mother’s hand and stumbled out of the train and rushed in with the crowd.
“We will now hear from the President of these United States!” the announcer yelled to the crowed and a old familiar face walked up to the pulpit. The little girl felt a shock coursing through her body as he stared right into her soul and shared the testimony of a little southern farm girl to America and the World.
“Howdy-doo mister?” she said boldly with a big smile on her face, and sent out a chubby hand out for a shake.
The man smiled and firmly took the handshake and replied, “Doing mighty well, thank you little missy” His eyes dulled as his gaze shifted down to his sheets supported by a small creaky wooden table, that rattled slightly as the train moved along through the Pennsylvanian landscape.
“Whut in tarnation is yo' wawkin' on,” she demanded as she looked over the unstable desk and saw a paper filled with words and writing along the sides and inked revisions.
He straighten his back and gave a weary sigh as he looked at the innocent southern girl and retorted, “Today I have a burden to get off my shoulder. I have to give someone hope, and faith, and I’m not sure if I can… I … I have a responsibility to fulfil and… I frankly scared,” his shoulders slumped as he rested his head on his broad chest.
“Mah Mammy told me thet mah gran'Pappy had t'fight fo' freedom 47 years ago now. ah live in his memo'y an' now it's like mah gran'Pappy died fo' nothin'. Today we is a-gonna mah Paw's funeral.” she slowly lifted up her head and looked up at the shabby man’s face with a tear running down her sleek cheek continued and said, “ah heard thet th' president hisse'f is a-comin' t'dedicated th' groun' fo' mah Pappy. We is in a war, a bad war. Mah Paw fought fo' mah freedom, an' as all ready dedicated this hyar groun', fo' America. He fought so thet i might live, an' yo' too mister. Eff'n we doesn't finish drinkin' whut's in our glass we'd evah haf freedom, dawgone it. Not evah.” She cried as tear drops fell upon the red velvet carpet, and leaned into the side of the man. She soon gave way, and fell into slumber. The man returned to his notes and wrote fiercely with the image of the crying girl fresh on his mind. A new sheet of paper was quickly filled with the power of a raging lion in them. His eyes bright with the spirit of freedom and knew what he was going to say.
The girl woke up with her hair matted down from sleeping on the cushions. She looked around and saw the man was gone. She felt a hand on her shoulder as a middle age woman said, “Helter-skelter up sweetheart, we is a-gonna miss th' speech.” She took her mother’s hand and stumbled out of the train and rushed in with the crowd.
“We will now hear from the President of these United States!” the announcer yelled to the crowed and a old familiar face walked up to the pulpit. The little girl felt a shock coursing through her body as he stared right into her soul and shared the testimony of a little southern farm girl to America and the World.