Facing The Wind
Jaimie Lambert, Grade 6
She stood tall and proud, confronting the frosty wind that bit her skin like icicles. The tip of the rock face pointed toward the distant horizon, where the sun was gradually disappearing. The sky was streaked with many glorious shades of red, orange and yellow. Still she patiently stood. Her fair face gazed at the ocean, utterly mesmerised. It shimmered with a soft tint of turquoise, small shards of light glinting down upon it. Her hair whipped in the strong wind, and her delicate hands brushed her golden curls away. There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance, followed by a fluorescent crack of lightning. The air was all of a sudden cold and miserable. A heavy gust of rain, combined with the blasting wind bucketed down, causing ripples in the peaceful sea. They rocketed down, as though racing, and some on top of the despondent little girl, stabbing her like needles. Her clothes were entirely drenched, her skin pale from the cold, and she was shivering unstoppably.
A small tear rolled down her cheek. She began to sob, and lay down in a crumpled heap, weeping tears of sadness, for still her father had not come. All her hope now lost, she turned for home.
A beam of light shone from far away. However small, it was strong, and the young girl smiled, her eyes dancing with happiness. The light came nearer, until she saw her father in his boat. He guided it ashore, and she raced over to greet him, throwing her arms tightly around him. Together they trudged home in the darkness. The moon gave them a glow of light, just enough to guide them safely home.
They spoke as though they hadn’t been apart. The little girl knocked on the door. Her mother opened the door and laughed merrily. She picked up her daughter and hugged her, and then the small girl followed her parents into the kitchen for a glass of hot chocolate. The diminutive girl held hers cautiously in her quivering hands, blowing on it gently. She sat down on her armchair in front of the fireplace. The flames of the fire licked the air, the bold colours wavering madly. She sipped her drink in tiny gulps, enjoying the heat it gave spreading itself onto her tongue. The fire slowly dried her, warming her angelic face. It made her feel safe, cosy, like she was protected. She began to yawn and her eyelids were gradually closing. She placed her empty mug on the table, curled up in the armchair, and drifted off, undisturbed, into a deep sleep.