A+Snow+Day+Distaster+Dude-3

It was a regular day. I was on my way to school and the air was nice and crisp, like a fresh salad out of the crisper droor. This small little town I was born in, Sharvu, Larson, looked irregular today, but, the best weather it's had in 23 years. Children were running around and laughing and enjoying the nice weather before school started. As we gathered in to the classroom, we noticed our teacher packing her bags and had a passport to California, U.S.A. in her hands. She had clothing scattered all about her room and the dresser was completely empty, every single droor. Now you're probably wondering what's going on and why does she have clothes at school, well, our pea-sized town of Sharvu is so small that we only have one teacher. Her name is Emily Cordia Carbrason. She's spanish so oviously one of our studies is going to be spanish. We go to school in her house because at the time our town was formed, no one thought it was neccesary to have a school for a population of 15 people. But today she seemed different, odder than odd, unusualer than her unusual self. She's just about ready to walk head hung low out of her kitchen door when she sees us children in the doorway. There's 19 pairs of big, yet, so little, shimmering eyes staring up at her, wondering one thing "What's going on here"? She looks down on us with her big chestnutted hazel eyes and without words they say "Save Yourselves.". She says "Sorry." then leaves us children with startled and bewildered faces. As we walk home we can't help but wonder what she meant when she said "Sorry". When I come upon my cottage's small fence gate, I notice finally that it's been snowing the entire time I've been on my way home, but not just little flurries, It's coming down thick. It starts, at first, looking like our usual weather, but then as it gets later, the snow comes down faster and thicker. Our tiny heat oven freezes and won't heat anymore. We are forced to go to the neighbor's cottage and see if they have heat. Sadly, no luck, and my little sister, Emma, is freezing and doesn't have much clothing on to help keep from frostbite. The neighbors offer to clothe her before we go searching for heat, she gets a tiny, thin, cotton blanket and by the times she gets it on and goes out the door, it is half soaked and she is even more frozen. We hurry and go 2 blocks down, hoping for more heat, there's still no luck and my parents are starting to worry more and more. Our last hope is maybe the biggest place in Sharvu, but not much bigger than your smallest grocery store in town now a days. The church. It seems oh, so big and should have plenty of room. We turn a corner, and walk past our towns library, that too looks like it has been frozen. We stop dead center in front of the church, 16 people standing in knee height of ice, snow, water, and sleet. It has been 2 hours that those 16 people have been standing out there and it looks as if they've been there for 3 days. I look at my mother, so young and pretty before, now it seems as if this day has aged her to 50. I look down at Emma, she's only 3 but seems as if she's a wise wise person and knows the craft of god, she looks curious but at the same time like she knew that in her young childhood this would happen and someone would get hurt. My mother turns to me, she sees my poor eyes and she knows what i want to do. She gets my father to go nearest to the doors and see what as happened. A yound lady, perhaps 26, is standing in front of the doors, looking lost in a place she thought she knew. He stairs at her, she looks up, he notices her yound child,a small boy, half my age maybe 4? He steps forward, hugs the young girl and her son, then says all he can get out, "Wha..." before he can finish that one little sentance, she says "Devil Himself would even be ashaimed.". My father comes back, looks all around at those people staring at him, and says what they dreaded him not to say "God looks down on those too selfish to share a peice of bread.". I can barely understand the meaning of these words when all of a sudden, the giant doors open and Father Ortos belches out "Go home you peasents, there's no more room!" then he slams the doors shut leaving us with a huge black whole in every single face.

10 years later I pass by the church on my way home. I stop right in front of those big doors and think of that day that our very own Father Ortos turned us away. How could he do such a thing to so many of his friends and family? I stop in and sit on the first row bench. So many memories lost in here. Just as I'm about to leave I hear a voice from the past, coming from a few rows back. When I looked, I couldn't believe what I saw. Father Ortos, a shrivveled up old man just sitting there on the 5th bench. I couldn't stand the sight of this man. He let people die out there in the cold, and for what reason? It made him less of a man that he already was. He looked up at me and smiled, I looked back at him, never locking my eyes on him, just searching around the place and watching him. Finally after 3 minutes of pure silence he spoke. " I'm sorry son." " Sorry for what?!" I said, so angry and we both could tell that this wouldn't be an easy fight. He looked old and tired and seemed to want to say everything but yet nothing. We both knew how hard it was going to be to talk about this subject and I had a feeling we both wanted to just leave be.