It’s Day 25 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer’s Month, in which participants are directed to write each day about a health issue.
Today’s Prompt: Third person post.
Write about a memory you have but describe it using the third person. Use as many sensory images (sights, sounds, textures, etc) as you can. Don’t use “I” or “me” unless you include dialogue.
Mom promised them a raspberry pie. A luscious, juicy piece of heaven right from the oven.
To make this happen, Sarah and her brother Tim carried metal bowls out to the row of raspberry bushes growing beyond the orchard in the backyard. Bees buzzed all around, whisking from one walnut tree to the other. The berries glistened in the sunlight, sparkling in all different shades of red. Sarah had never before noticed that burgundy could take on so many hues.
The two began picking the juicy jewels right off their green stems. Juice drained down their fingers onto the lawn. The thorns on the branches pricked their skin like syringe needles when they accidentally brushed up against the bushes. Despite the sting of the pricks, they carried on their task. Dragonflies and butterflies swirled all around them, lighting on whatever piece of nature caught their fancy.
When the two bowls were filled, the children headed back to the house with their treasure. Mother greeted them at the back porch with a winsome smile, bits of flour dust falling to the kitchen floor from her apron. She had been rolling out the pie crusts with grandma’s rolling pin while they were busy collecting the pie filling. After the children washed the berries in a strainer, their mother placed them in a bigger bowl, where she added sugar and other ingredients to make the filling even more delectable. Once she finished the filling mix, she poured it into the waiting pie crust and topped it with another crust. Mother finished the work of art by sprinkling sugar on top and making an X in the crust with a fork to let out the steam.
Sarah and Tim raced to see who could lick the most from the bowl that had just been emptied of most of its contents. Nothing need go to waste.
After an hour, the alluring aroma of raspberry pie met the children’s nostrils. When their mom took the pie out of the oven with her mitts, she set it on a cooling rack while the eager children watched, their tummies growling in protest against no instant gratification. After dinner, they finally tasted their treat, a dream come true for children who had the best mom and dad and the best backyard in the whole wide world.
The next day they set out again with a ladder to pick pears, so their mom could make her next pie. And then there were the cherries, peaches, and apples that waited their turn to be sandwiched in a pastry. Sarah and Tim were surrounded by abundant produce–all organic. Long before organic became a household synonym for ecological correctness.
Do you have any fond memories from childhood?
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