Tag: Writing Memories

Feeling nostalgic…

Published on by Amanda Tero4 Comments

I’ve been thinking about this little book a lot lately. 

An author’s first “real work” holds a special place in their heart. Sure, a few of my short stories reached the Amazon shelves before this one, but this was the story that really made me believe that I was an actual author, not a hobby writer. I learned so much while writing and publishing it–lessons that I have applied to every single project I have done since its release. And yes… sometimes I just get nostalgic over it… guess memories do that to you. 😉

What is the book that holds a special place in your heart (this question can apply to both authors and readers, so have at it!)?

Shadows of the Past (3 of 3)

Published on by Amanda TeroLeave a comment

By Amanda Tero (Written in 2005, age fourteen)

This was my first short story, written as a school assignment (after I post all three parts, I’ll share my original “Afterword” which explains a little more). It was fun to read again after all of these years. I can detect some immaturity of my thought-process at fourteen but the story was fun to read nonetheless.

Read Part One HERE and Part Two HERE

Part Three
My stomach seemed to flip as Carla and I wandered slowly out of the old mill. The door closed behind us and I felt a sudden urge to go back to where my family was.
Why did this have to happen? Why did I ever follow that girl? Who is she anyway? What is going to happen to us now?  I questioned myself, bewildered.
Suddenly, Carla grabbed my arm. “Look!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Aunt Lora!”
My eyes followed where she was pointing and I sighed with relief. Mom stood talking to a lady next to one of the cabins. I tried to hurry to Mom, but my ankle prevented it.
“Oh, there you are Salina. I was wondering what took you two away. You left before Dad could tell us about this old-fashioned town.”
“We-we found it though.” I stuttered, not believing my ears. An old-fashioned town! This must be where the girl came from…and went to. I wonder if I can find her yet.
“You two may walk around if you’d like.” Mom said, interrupting my trail of thought.
“That’s…fine. I mean–at least, I will, if Carla doesn’t mind.” I said, scoping out the area.
“I’ll go.” Carla added quickly.
I forced myself to breathe deeply. My ankle began to throb as I walked quickly down the main street. I was looking only for one person—the girl.
I looked around at all the different cabins and all the people who seemed to have stepped out of the past. They began to spin around before my eyes and my head began to feel light. I grabbed Carla’s arm for support.
“You’re going too fast Sal.” Carla scolded gently. “You shouldn’t be so impatient to find her.”
“I know, but I want to find her.” I stated stubbornly.
Carla sighed and continued slowly, which forced me to slow down too. The cabins looked endless. Time seemed to stand still as we pressed on.
Carla stopped abruptly. She silently tipped her head towards a cabin several yards away. Children flocked in front of it. I stared at the cabin, trying to sort one child from another. Surely our mystery girl would be with all the others.
Carla stood up straighter. I could tell her patience was wearing thin.
“Let’s go.” I started off at a brisk pace but slowed to a regular walk within two seconds as my ankle protested.
Finally we were at the edge of the group of children. They were sitting in a circle, tossing a ball to and fro. I noticed a tall lady holding a baby. Her dress was similar to that of our mystery girl’s. She saw us and walked forward, wearing a bright smile.
“Hello young ladies. How may I help you?” Her voice was soft and friendly.
“W-e-l-l…” my confidence suddenly vanished and my voice sounded small and squeaky.
Carla came to my rescue. “We were just looking for a girl about Sal’s height.” She said, pointing to me. “Her dress is like yours.”
“Oh!” The lady’s face broke once again into a radiant smile. “That’s Alyssa. She’s in the cabin. If you wait a moment, I’ll get her for you.”
With a swish of the many layered skirts, she had gone into the cabin. As the cabin door opened again, the lady came out, followed by our mystery girl.
“Here she is.” The lady said cheerfully. “Alyssa, don’t worry about your applesauce, I’ll take care of it.”
Alyssa nodded as the lady went back into the cabin. She looked up at us then her gaze fell to the ground.
“Hello Alyssa.” My voice sounded calmer than my frazzled mind really was. “I suppose we should formerly introduce ourselves. I’m Sal and this is Carla, my cousin.
Alyssa’s eyes glanced at us shyly then dropped again.
I took a deep breath. “And—well, um…” Why do I want to talk to her? I looked helplessly at Carla trying to signal to her.
Carla took my hint, and asked, “What were you doing in the mill?”
Alyssa shrugged.
I felt my temper start to rise. “Can you speak or not?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I regretted it. Lord, forgive me. I breathed quietly.
“Yes.” Alyssa’s voice was barely audible as a soft pink flush spread over her cheeks.
Carla glared at me warningly, then gently asked. “Alyssa, what do you do here?”
Alyssa glanced up at Carla. “Feed cows and housework.” She replied, her voice gaining confidence.
“Where’s the barn?” Carla encouraged.
Alyssa pointed to her right—opposite of the mill.
“But—“ I began. Carla glared at me again and I bit my lip.
“Do you like the stream?” Carla asked.
Alyssa nodded, her face now flaming.
Lord, put the right words in my mouth. I prayed. “Well, it seems you’re familiar with this place. Could you show me your favorite place?”
Alyssa looked shyly at me. “I’d rather not.” She looked back at Carla, then, changing her mind, she nodded and started walking.
I skipped a little to catch up. My ankle gave way. A moan escaped my mouth as I landed on the ground, clutching at my ankle Alyssa spun around, her eyes wide. “Is it sprained?” She knelt down next to me.
“I’m fine.” I said.
“No, don’t walk.” Alyssa ordered as she gently examined my ankle. “It’s just a twist. Try to walk slowly, take your time, and—and…” her shyness suddenly returned.
I nodded and smiled. “Thanks!” With Carla’s and Alyssa’s help, I was back on my feet.
“How do you know about sprains?” I asked.
“Dad’s a doctor,” Alyssa answered.
I nodded.
We walked in silence. I looked ahead at the small forest then at Alyssa. Her shyness seemed to reach out to me suddenly. I took a deep breath. “Alyssa, I’m sorry about getting mad at you.”
Alyssa nodded. “That’s okay.”
Another uncomfortable silence passed. “I—um, have to apologize too…” Alyssa’s voice shook. I looked at her, puzzled. “Well, I was…spying on you.”
“On ME?” I gasped.
Alyssa nodded. “Your family—I was wondering—well, are you Christians?”
A smile broke out on my face. “Yes, we are.”
Alyssa sighed. “I was hoping so. You probably didn’t know I was.” Her face turned crimson. “I didn’t act like it.”
Carla smiled. “Alyssa, we all have times that we don’t act like Christians. The important thing is to be sure that our relationship with God is right.”
Alyssa nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”
“But we must try to follow God’s Word, and if we do that, then Christ will show through us.” Carla continued.
“I wasn’t exactly acting like one either.” I laughed a little. “I suppose God has a handful here if we aren’t trying our best.” I grew more serious. “Maybe we can help each other out.”
Both Carla and Alyssa nodded.
“I know! We can start writing to keep each other accountable.” Carla suggested.
I looked at Alyssa, with my face questioning her opinion. She beamed at me and I grinned back.
We were all deep in thought as Alyssa once again took lead, guiding us to her favorite spot.
She’s a nice girl after all.  I thought, Dear Lord, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, please forgive me. And help me to live more for You. In Jesus’ name, Amen. I followed Alyssa over the hilly land, with my spirits soaring.
The End
My original “afterword” at fourteen
“Shadows of the Past” is not actually an original idea, but an assignment for school. Mom had found a free course online full of assignments for writers. The first was “Why I Write”, a paper on…why I write! That was alright, but not really what I thought of when “fun” and “writing” were put together.
Then came this assignment! And it sure came! The edited version of the assignment basically said, “You and your family went for a picnic next to a stream. You see a strange girl in a long flowing dress and wonder why she is there.” It also had certain requirements. For example, one was the yellow checked blanket that was spread on the ground in Part One.
So, I sat down and wrote…and wrote. It turned out being my very first “short story” that I had ever written (my stories are always long!), being about five pages. I was excited. I thought up several different titles for my work that ran along the line of “past”. “Shadows of the Past” was the only hit. So, “Shadows of the Past” it became.

After I turned in my assignment to be graded, I found out one slight problem, the assignment was, “write a paragraph…!”

Shadows of the Past (2 of 3)

Published on by Amanda TeroLeave a comment

By Amanda Tero (Written in 2005, age fourteen)

This was my first short story, written as a school assignment (after I post all three parts, I’ll share my original “Afterword” which explains a little more). It was fun to read again after all of these years. I can detect some immaturity of my thought-process at fourteen but the story was fun to read nonetheless.

Read Part One HERE

Part Two
Our footsteps echoed and re-echoed on the aged mill floor. The dusty mill seemed dejected. It made me shudder slightly.
“Look in here.” Carla whispered softly, pointing to a large door that was slightly ajar.
I passed her up slowly and swung the door open, wondering what we might find. Suddenly, I was looking straight into the face of the strange girl. We stood still, staring at each other. Her brown eyes didn’t move, but her blonde curls quivered a little. I studied her tall figure, not speaking a word. It seemed as if I had just come face to face with a girl my age from one hundred years ago. Her white dress was simple, yet considerably pretty. It flowed delicately down to her high-buttoned white boots.
Then, before I could think, the girl turned and sprinted out of the window. I climbed after her quickly without any consideration. My foot jerked to the side and twisted as I landed on a narrow board. Gasping at the sharp pain, I looked up. The girl was just ahead of me, using a thick rope to climb up the mildewed wall.
I clenched my jaw and hobbled down the soaked board. Suddenly, I felt it slipping into the water.
“No!” I groaned, thrashing my arms wildly. Someone grabbed my wrist and I looked up to see Carla. She was hanging halfway out the window, trying to keep me from slipping into the water that now seemed dark and deadly.
“What to do? Please.” She begged; her large brown eyes looked frightened.
I glanced helplessly at where the girl was climbing. She had just reached the top window.
“Help me in, Carla.” I gasped, trying to grab the brick windowsill with my free arm. My fingers finally found a brick to hold onto. “Hurry.” I begged, my voice fading.
Time seemed to drag as I worked to get back to the window. My fingers felt cold and clammy and my head ached from the tension.
“Lord, help me to get out of this mess.” I prayed silently, holding my breath. Then, with one last try, I was climbing on the windowsill.
“Oh, Sal.” Carla whispered, giving me a hug. “Why did you follow that girl?”
“The girl! Carla, we’ve got to catch her! She went through the upstairs window. Lead the way.” I begged.
Carla looked at me as if she didn’t know whether to listen or not.
“Well then,” I took a deep breath and carefully stepped off the windowsill. “I’ll take lead.” I limped a little as I went out of the small room.
“Why Sal? Why do you want to know who she is?” Carla asked quietly as she followed me up the creaky wooden steps.
“Because I do. She’s strange and I won’t be able to rest until I find out.” I stated, turning a little to look at Carla. “You may stay here if you’d like.” I added as we neared the end of the steps.
Carla shook her head slowly then quickened her pace. Together we pushed the door open. The upstairs seemed empty enough, with only a few old boxes here and there. To our left was a door that was closed securely.
“In there?” Carla asked, pointing to the door.
“Maybe.” I stated, though I doubted it.
Carla shrugged and opened the door. By the look on her face, I knew something was there. I hurried to where she was and peered over her shoulder then gasped. In front of me stood rows of cabins and other buildings that were from the past.

I-is this like a time machine? I thought wildly, but I surely didn’t believe in time machines either. What is going on? I wondered.

. . . Come back next week for the final part!

Shadows of the Past (1 of 3)

Published on by Amanda TeroLeave a comment

By Amanda Tero (Written in 2005, age fourteen)

This was my first short story, written as a school assignment (after I post all three parts, I’ll share my original “Afterword” which explains a little more). It was fun to read again after all of these years. I can detect some immaturity of my thought-process at fourteen but the story was fun to read nonetheless.

Part One


Our annual family picnic had come once more, and we were all excited to get on the go. It seemed the ideal day, and we were all eager to find out where it was going to be this year. But as much as we prodded, Dad kept silent. Even my cousin, Carla, who was staying the summer at our house, was curious. Finally, the car stopped and Dad told us to start walking. He led the way.
We walked for what seemed hours then Dad finally stopped at a ravine in the woods. “This is it.” He stated as we all quietly overlooked the land that dipped in front of us.
Seventeen year-old Joseph looked up at Dad. “Isn’t there a–”
“Yes, I guess we’ll go there.” Dad interrupted quickly. “All right, just a little further.”
In a few moments, we were staring at an almost crystal-clear stream that gently rushed past an old, abandoned mill.
“Oh…” I couldn’t seem to take in all the beauty at once. Everything was so calm…so serene.
“Let’s unload.” Mom directed softly, handing Carla and I the yellow-checked blanket to spread on the ground.
“May we eat there?” Carla asked, pointing to a shady spot underneath a grove of oak trees.
“Yes, that is the perfect place. I don’t think I could’ve chosen a better place because, well, there is no better place than this one.” I stated as I scanned the area.
We shook out the blanket and cautiously spread it on the ground, being careful not to put it on any stumps or roots. Then, we helped Mom set the food out on the blanket.
“It looks so cheery.” Carla stated, staring at the plates of food on the yellow blanket.
“Yes,” I mused. “And out here, it is so…quiet and peaceful. There is no one to bother us.”
Out of the blue, Joel came whooping up to the picnic spot, very much like any eight year-old boy would do.
“Except for my brothers.” I added with a grin.
Soon, we were all seated on the ground and Dad said the blessing. Everyone got their food and began to quietly eat.
I took a small bite of my cheese sandwich and slowly began to chew. I looked out at the stream again and listened carefully. Yes, there it was. Somewhere close, water was rushing over high rocks. My mind flew to the words of Psalm 23:2 and 45:10. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters…Be still, and know that I am God: …” I quoted to myself. It seemed that God’s presence was surely near.
I looked down at my dress thoughtfully. Not many girls today wear dresses. Mostly pants. Then my thoughts drifted once more to our picnic spot. I wonder if anyone else once sat here. Maybe the family from that mill ate here once—or maybe a family that was waiting for their meal to be ground, I wonder… I shivered. That would be interesting if I sat in the exact same spot as one of them. Maybe it was a girl my age…or maybe the baby. I smiled, satisfied with my thoughts, and, since I was finished eating, I got up and wandered across the stream.
“Don’t go far.” Mom advised.
“Yes ma’am.” I called as I went a little closer to the mill where I could think better. I wonder if one of the workers of the mill ever sat here to rest during their break. Or maybe to eat their lunch, or dinner, as they called it…I felt someone behind me and turned around. Carla stood there silently looking at the mill.
“I hope you don’t mind me here.” Carla said softly.
“Not at all. I was just thinking of how nice it is out here and—Carla!” I gasped and grabbed her arm suddenly. “Look!” I pointed towards the mill.
Suddenly, a girl in a long, flowing dress disappeared into the mill. Without a word, I slowly pressed closer to the mill.
Can she be someone from the olden days? No, I quickly dismissed the thought. I didn’t believe that someone could come back to life. But so few girls now wear dresses…especially like that. Who is she? How did she find her way to the mill? Could she have thought that the miller is still here, and is looking for him?
I bit my lip nervously as I swung the old mill’s creaky door open.

. . . Come back next week for part two! 🙂

Unwanted Houseguests

Published on by Amanda Tero2 Comments

When I was fourteen, I wrote about a family experience we had to a friend on the missionfield. Here is the unedited excerpt from my letter (including the original exclamation points).
Dear E—,
     Something absolutely dreadful has happened over here. I mean really, REALLY dreadful.
     It all started last Sunday evening. It was around 7:00. First, only a few of the members of the family came.
     They made us eat supper with them. And Rebecca and I had to get up at least six times just for them!
     Next, the family insisted upon sleeping in one of the coolest places (Since it is summer). No where’s else! Mom said to go ahead and put them where they wanted. Rebecca did so and all was peaceful until the next day, Monday.
     They got me up early then madeus eat with them again! Several of us were already getting tired of them. Me especially. I had to slave for them from breakfast until lunch (I still have burns from Monday). By then, there were over one hundred members of the family present (It’s ALL the totaltruth!). And guess what! You got it! Lunch was eaten with them AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mom was even tired of them!
     They let us eat our own supper, but stayed in the kitchen the whole time.
     That night, they stayed in the kitchen. Who knows what all they did?
     Tuesday morning they made us eat with them AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! I was so tired of them I didn’t eat much.
     They’re still in our house, though we chased out most of them. I CAN NOT wait until they are gone COMPLETELY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
     By now, I guess I should tell you their name. It is Donut. Yes, I spelled it correctly. Donut.
     Rebecca innocently asked Mom for permission to make donuts—a rare treat. She quadrupled the recipe and didn’t see that one recipe ALONE made four dozen donuts!
     And, well, you know the rest of the story. And I promise you; none of us want that kind of donut for a L-L-O-O-N-N-G-G time!

Love,
Amanda