Fiction contests finalist: Hannah Baughman

If you've seen this month's issue of ec, you know that we revealed (and printed) the winning stories from our third annual fiction contest. Now, it's time to check out the stories written by the other finalists in each division. 

We had two finalists (or honorable mentions) in the middle school category. Today, we're featuring Hannah Baughman's prize-winning story. Hannah is from Olathe, Kansas, and enjoys tennis, playing the piano, and reading—when she's not writing, that is.

Here's Hannah's story: 

We were all whispering as Monica walked past us. She didn’t look at us, although I was certain she could hear what my friends and I were saying. As she walked past us she kept her expression in the other direction.

“Did you see what she was wearing today?” said one of my friends, a girl named Morgan.

“I can’t believe it—cowboy boots.” Nellie, another one of my friends, said.

“She needs to get some sense knocked into her. Big time,” said Ashley.

They all looked at me as if I was going to say something, but I couldn’t seem to find anything to say. There was just something different about her; she seemed to have something that I didn’t have. I just couldn’t talk about her like I would about someone else.

“Well, Jess?” Nellie asked.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for class.” I said, changing the subject.

Morgan looked at me strangely as we headed for class.

When I finished cheerleading practice, I walked to meet my friends at the fourth bench on the left by the flag pole. I saw my friends in a semi-circle surrounding Monica. They were making fun of her outfit and laughing at her. I went over there and told Nellie that I had to go. I really didn’t want to be a part of that scene. I don’t know why, but something inside of me made me want to go home instead of joining in.

The next day, I was earlier than normal to school, so I didn’t see my friends anywhere. I heard some whispering as I walked past the staircase. I took a step back, peeking in through the window of the stairway door. There was Monica, sitting alone on the stairs, her eyes closed. She was whispering something. I looked around, to see if anyone was watching me, and somehow found the guts to walk up to her.  “What are you doing?” I asked, trying hard to be nice. Her eyes opened and she said, “I’m talking to my best Friend,” she replied. “But there’s nobody here,” I said, puzzled. “I’m talking to my Father, my only Father,”

“He has saved me from my sins, and He has comforted me in this hard time,” She continued.

“Okay…what exactly are sins? Who is your ‘Father’?” I was really confused, and I was also glad my friends weren’t there. They would be laughing at her, but I was curious, and I wanted to know, whether it was interesting or not.

“Sins are when you do wrong against God. My Father is God.”

I was really confused. “What do you mean?”

“It means—” she started. But at that moment, Nellie, Morgan, and Ashley walked up.

“Hey! Oh, Monica? Do you have a mirror at home? Because you really need to get one! Ha-ha, good one, huh Jess!” Ashley sneered.

“Um, well-”

“Yeah that was one of the best ones all day, Ash!” said Nellie, cutting me off.

They were still laughing when the bell rang.

Perfect timing, I thought. My friends hurried off, leaving me with Monica. I looked over at her, and she asked, “Do you want to come over after school and you can ask me some more questions, if you’d like.”

“Um, OK.” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing, but something inside of me told me to go. “See you then!”

When I walked outside to meet Monica, Nellie and Ashley were taunting her again. “Great, just what I need,” I thought. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to them, not saying anything but making eye contact with Monica. I jerked my head toward the street, hoping she would understand. She nodded and we somehow escaped from Nellie, Ashley, and Morgan and left for her house.

As we were walking down Monica’s street, a boy of about eighteen rode past us on a skateboard. “Hey Oscar,” Monica said as he stopped and walked back to us. “Hey Monica, and Monica’s friend, I’m Oscar,” he said, looking at me. “Um, Hi, I’m Jessica but you can call me Jess.” I said, feeling a little nervous. “We have to go. Sorry Oscar, I’ll see you and talk to you later,” said Monica.

While we were in Monica’s room, she told me what it meant to be a Christian, and she told me who Jesus is and that he died for me. I didn’t understand all of it, but I got the main idea.
   
The next day, I went to Monica’s house again. This time, Oscar was there. They explained to me more, and I understood some of it. It was making a little more sense than yesterday. Monica told me a verse that I had to think a lot about. “1st John 1:9 says ‘If you confess your sins, he is faithful and just to forgive you your sins, and will cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ This verse changed my life when I read my great-grandma’s Bible, which I still have. She showed it to me, and I said, “Wow, it’s old, but interesting! It’s a book without a cover.”

“Open it!” Monica said.

I opened it, and in old, rough writing, what looked like a song was written on the second page.
It read: 
Saved, Saved! 
To my beloved daughter, Janelle.

I’ve found a friend who is all to me,
His love is ever true;
I love to tell how He lifted me,
And what His grace can do for you.
Saved by His power divine,
Saved to new life sublime!
Life now is sweet and my joy is complete,
For I’m saved, saved, saved!

After I read that song, I knew what I had to do.

“Monica, can I become a Christian? I know Jesus died for my sins, and I want Him to be my Father, and my best friend. Will you tell me what I need to do?”

Monica smiled and answered, “Of course I will.”