they woke me at two in the morning, those boys on the road in their plaid jackets and mittenless fingers, hatless heads and clown noses and “i wonder if they put those on to try and stay warm?” my husband wondered.

mother in law had stopped to see if they needed help, those bare hands gripping four bags of toys, those legs toddling down the road in the cold of the lion of march

“our dad’s not home,” the older one told her, and the younger one sniffed and they looked towards the trailer, screen door swinging and she knew she couldn’t leave them on the road

the one in kindergarten, the other turning seven “tomorrow” which he said in the disappointed way only a child could, whose mother has run away, whose father wasn’t home when his children were dropped on the step by a grandma too overcome by the death of her husband to take care of them any longer

and they were walking back to grandma’s, four hours away.

and they got into my mother in law’s van too fast, too fast, she said, but they were so cold, so very cold and life holds no fear for the abandoned, for the worst has already happened

and she took them to a place where children are safe, a place with toys and snacks and couches, a place where phone calls were made and authorities told and all the time the boys wondering when they were going to be taken back to grandma’s… for even when the familiar doesn’t want you, it’s still familiar

and when it came time for mother in law to leave, she teared up for “we’d bonded” she told me but the boys, they just shrugged thin goodbyes and put on their clown noses for they were tough, she said… they had to be. otherwise they’d die and no one would notice.

and they woke me up at two, walking, forever walking towards their grandma’s with their clown noses and their purple hands and their bags of toys

1. link up a post (old or new) that you feel is ‘broken’ or ‘imperfect’ or somehow redemptive
2. put the ‘imperfect prose’ button at the bottom of your post, so others can find their way back here (see button code in right-hand column of my blog)
3. don’t feel as though you need to comment here (really), but please, read other’s offerings, and encourage them!

imperfect prose Participants

1. amy @ to love
2. brian miller
3. christine
4. Rachel
5. Old Ollie
6. David N.
7. Ellaine
8. Nancy @ Alleged Mind
9. Leslie
10. Abby…memory lane
11. Bethany
12. Julie @ snipsandsnails
13. Ramblings by Carol Nuckols
14. kendal
15. happygirl
16. Lauri
17. Rambling Heather
18. patty
19. lyndie
20. Jen @ Finding Heaven
21. Shaunie Friday @ Up the Sunbeam
22. Bethany Ann
23. Southern Gal
24. alittlebitograce
25. imoomie
26. Shannon @ herspaciousplace
27. Melissa@one thing
28. Elizabeth@just following Jesus
29. Kim @ From Doing to Being
30. Rebecca
31. amanda
32. Brandee @ Smooth Stones
33. CM @ A Little Lilac
34. 4 ways to rest @ Lisa notes
35. recuerda mi corazon
36. Bev
37. Cindy @ 12Tribes
38. I Live in an Antbed
39. jimi ann @ path of life
40. 60piggies
41. Laura, NH, USA
42. Jodi
43. Angie
44. -t-
45. Weighing Heavily on My Heart
46. Capturing This Lifesong
47. HisFireFly
48. Loni
49. Kim@Winsome Woman

Learn more about imperfect prose here.
View More imperfect prose Participants
Get The Code

Powered by… Mister Linky’s Magical Widgets.

(original of ‘Precious in His Sight’ sold; prints available here)