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The TV showed a tyrant tumbling towards our house. I was weary and wanted to leave before it hit, but My mom was too weak and too old to leave her bed. She couldn’t leave so I sat, sat and prayed. I boarded up a window standing on a chair— Waiting. It was hurrying our way in the shape of a hurricane. My mom said, “Remember Hurricane Betsy back in ’65, we survived that in this house!” She was trying to comfort me in my chair. I was trying to stay calm for my mom, but I was worried, so worried and again I prayed, Watching, waiting and wondering over her bed. As I walked to the window; I looked at my bed Of roses freshly planted and hoped the hurricane Would spare their lives, ours too! Then, me and the roses prayed. Suddenly and without warning the power left our house And a window cracked and crashed close to my mom’s head, but She was ok. She was calmly asleep. Then, I sat in my chair With a flashlight and waited. My old chair Was calm and sturdy like my mom’s bed. Throughout the night I sat confident that we would hold, but Finally the overwhelming weight of the heavy hurricane Broke the levees and lunged an ocean into our house. I cried “Mom we have to go!” She woke and then she prayed. And as she prayed The water rose and knocked over my chair. I picked her up and carried her to the roof of our house, And we waited and waited—she missed her bed. At last a boat came, on the side read “HURRICANE RELIEF”. I told my mom it was time to go, but She didn’t want to go, she was sad. But, I convinced her that we couldn’t stay. We got in the boat—everyone prayed. Then we waited and waited in a big silver dome with other hurricane Survivors, all were thirsty, none were cold. “Mom…Wake up!” She lay dead in a chair. So, I got some rubbish and filth and made her a bed. I covered her up—I missed our house. When I returned I found my chair though it was not the same, but, I sat anyway and then I prayed. I put my mom’s ashes in a brand new rose bed And begged another hurricane doesn’t take away—my mom and our house.
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