Mick McArt - The Silent Song of Wordishure

This is a work of fiction. Except in references to the Lord Jesus Christ, the events and characters described herein are imaginary and not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

Tales of Wordishure: The Silent Song of Wordishure

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2012 Mick Art Productions

V1.0

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphics, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Mick Art Productions, LLC

www.mickartproductions.com

ISBN: 9781622090006

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.

Psalm 69:30

A little girl named Melody sat at her piano practicing hymns. She played from morning until noon, filling her home in Newchime Village with wonderful songs of praise.

Sometimes, she could hear neighbors singing or humming along. It reminded the girl of how songs about God could bring joy or a repentant tear, and a closeness to Jesus.

Melody could play almost any instrument. She knew that God had given her a special talent, so she made sure to use it in a righteous way. Her old rosewood piano never sat quiet long.

The piano was handmade by her father, the Bellsmith of Newchime, who loved hearing songs about the Saviour. Melody loved the songs too, and how they touched the souls of people at Fellowship Church.

As Melody played, a strong breeze picked up and blew through the village, pushing open her window. She got up and closed the shutters.

"I should get my kite out today, after rehearsal," she thought to herself. She loved flying kites, especially with her brother Humphrey, who was the best kite flyer in all of Wordishure. She knew he would be outside today. Their father, the Bellsmith, had just given Humphrey a shiny blue kite for his birthday.

When she returned to the piano for more practice, a new song idea moved her spirit. Sitting at the piano, she felt the Holy Spirit guiding her hands as she pressed the keys. Each note sprung to life and their rich tones filled the room. "This is perfect," she thought.

Melody got up from the piano and went into her bedroom, pulled open her top dresser drawer, and looked inside. Resting on top her clothes sat a beautiful leather bound notebook that her mother gave her. She always encouraged Melody's creativity. She picked up the notebook, hugged it, and carried it back to the piano.

After placing the notebook on top of the piano, she tapped the notes again and smiled. Grabbing her quill and ink, she began to jot down the notes the Lord was composing in her heart. It was a special song she was writing for church on Sunday. She wanted to write something wonderful for Jesus, to share with everyone at Fellowship Church. As she was about to finish writing, the quill broke into two pieces. Melody hoped her mother had another one. Her mother loved to make quilts, so she usually kept quills in her thread basket.

Melody looked around but could not find the basket. "It must be outside with mother," she thought. Her mother often sat outside the window in her rocking chair and listen to her daughter play. Melody opened the door and stepped outside to talk to her.

"We're all out of quills, Melody," said her mother when she saw Melody holding the broken quill. "We need to find more."

Just then, another breeze blew in through the open door of the cottage! It was a very strong gust and blew Melody's long red hair over her face. As she brushed the hair away she heard the sound of rustling pages. She looked toward the piano and saw the papers inside her notebook being picked up by the wind. They were carried quickly out the window that had blown open again.

"Oh no!" gasped Melody, running to peer out the window. She could see all her writings being carried off into the distance. Melody was heartbroken. She wanted to play something beautiful on Sunday, and now her notes were gone. Tears welled up in her soft green eyes as she watched the last bit of paper fly towards Gatherberry Hill, where she and Humphrey would fly their kites.

"Is something wrong Melody?" asked her mother, who sat down at the piano and put her arm around her.

"I'm sad mother," she said quietly. "I worked very hard on that song. I wanted so much to please Jesus on Sunday."

Her mother smiled, hugged her, and said, "Your heart is what pleases Jesus."

This cheered Melody up a little bit. Melody's mother knelt down, brushed the tears away and said "I have a Cramberry pie in the stove. After it cools, would you like a piece?"

Melody loved gathering Cramberries for pies. They named them Cramberries because they were so good you had to cram them into your mouth! This made her feel much better. She smiled up at her mother and with a big nod said "Yes, ma'am!"

A short time later, the Cramberry pie sat cooling in the window next to Melody. She had returned to the piano and was trying to remember all the notes she had written. She tried not to be sad as she looked at the empty leather bound notebook lying in front of her.

Knock-knock-knock came a knock on the door. Melody got up to answer it. "Maybe it's the wind, returning my notes," she hoped.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Is that Cramberry pie I smell?" came a familiar voice.

Melody recognized who it was and opened the door. It was her good friend Preston, the gopher. Preston loved Cramberries. As a matter of fact, he dug his home into Gatherberry Hill, just so he could eat all the Cramberries he wanted. "Would you like a piece?" Melody's mother asked as he stepped in.

"I sure would!" he replied, following them to the table. "But they sure can be messy!"

"Make sure you use a napkin," Melody told Preston as she unfolded a napkin and laid it on her lap. "Cramberries are really juicy. Make sure they don't get on your clothes."

Preston wore spotlessly clean light blue overalls. He did not like to get dirty. Even when he dug his holes, he somehow managed to keep himself clean. He always dug slowly, carefully handling each piece of dirt like it was a spoonful of Cramberry pie. Melody was always amazed at how clean Preston was, because he was kind of clumsy too.

"I'm not worried about stains this time," he said while digging in his pocket. "I brought my own napkin."

As he tucked his napkin under his chin, Melody noticed that it wasn't a napkin at all.

"It's a page from my missing song!" she exclaimed, standing up from her chair. Melody ran over and hugged Preston, who nearly dropped his piece of Cramberry pie.

Preston untucked it and handed it to the smiling girl.

"Where did you find this?" she asked.

"I found it lying on the ground near one of my tunnels. Up on Gatherberry Hill," the gopher responded. "Maybe there's more up there."

After finishing her snack, Melody got her mother's permission to search for her missing song. "Be home for supper," advised her mom as Melody went to the piano.

"I will ma'am," she responded, picking up her leather bound notebook case. Melody and Preston waved goodbye and left the cottage, heading toward the beautiful green hill that sat in the distance.

As they walked over the grassy field that led up the hill, Preston grew short of breath. "Too much Cramberry pie!" he panted while rubbing his belly. "Just let me catch my breath."