I am posting this piece as a special request for a friend. Several months back I did the craziest thing! Well, some of you might not think it crazy, but for me it was one of those step to the edge, spread your wings moments.
Late one night in July, I learned about a writing contest. This was no ordinary contest. For a nominal entry fee and 250 words, someone would be selected to be the new innkeepers and owners of a bed and breakfast that was located only 20 miles from where I currently Iive. It was always a dream of mine to do such a thing…to be hostess to a house full of guests, but my finances never allowed me to consider such a lofty dream.
The way these things work, the current owners needed to receive a minimum number of essays (entrance fees) in order to cover the cost of the house. The first deadline came and went the first part of September, with an extension added for submissions. And alas, the second deadline is now upon us and the owners did not receive enough submissions to break even. I received notification that my entry fee was being refunded back to me. The house is now on the market to be sold in the traditional way.
Of course I’m disappointed, but through it all, I am so glad that I took the plunge…that I paid the fee, wrote the essay and then had the gumption to actually submit it! I learned that it is never too late to dream. And most importantly, that I still have a few dreams left in me. We can forget that sometimes when life becomes too busy or when we are in survival mode.
Anyhow…my friend asked me to post the essay. If the stars had aligned, who knows, it could have been me who won!
ESSAY TOPIC: “What owning a bed and breakfast would mean to you?”
“To be owned by a grand old home is perhaps one of life’s greatest treasures. You know you are smitten when first you catch a glimpse of her in the distance. At that moment it won’t matter what the weather is doing, or the traffic. That first look will stop your heart for a moment, then send it into a flutter as you take it all in…her foliage adorned walkway, her sprawling wrap-around porch, her door, and her windows, coyly draped in flowing tapestries, revealing just enough to tease you into coming inside. That first step onto her century-worn wood plank floors, will feel like comfortable shoes, surrendering under your feet, moaning occasionally as you venture in.
To be owned by a house grand as this, requires a sensitive soul. One who sees her virtues and understands the generous nature of her spirit. She is happiest when filled with love and laughter. When her hearth glows warm red and her kitchen is filled with the aroma of brewing coffee and sweet cinnamon. She longs to nurture friendships, provide harbor against storms, and to become a sweet memory to those she has welcomed into her parlor and nestled in her bed chambers.
I know of such a place. Her name is Claiborne. In the heart of the lush Blue Ridge foothills, she waits for a new custodian to fill her dance card. How audacious of me to think it, but oh, if it could be me she chooses!”
Keep dreaming my fellow WordPressers! 🙂
like mercury colliding... 