Hope In Depression

September 12, 2011
By Taylor Beiriger BRONZE, Hooper, Colorado
Taylor Beiriger BRONZE, Hooper, Colorado
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Fresh food, a warm bed, a loving family, all things I woke up to everyday, but took For granted. It’s hard to remember back to those times when everything seemed so simple, now the simplest things are suddenly so difficult. What I would give for a slice of warm homemade bread, or to hear my father’s deep laugh. As I lay down to sleep on the hard, cold wood floor I pray silently to myself that tomorrow will bring hope.

One month earlier

“Clink, clink, clink” I could hear my father plucking away on his typewriter. As the smell of fresh homemade bread fills the air. My mother came into the living room and asked my sister, Annie, and I to pick up our paper dolls we were playing with and prepare for dinner. I began to clean up our toys when my father came into the room and flung me over his shoulder, we began to laugh as Annie chased us up the stairway. Together, we sat down as a family to eat dinner.

After school everyday at three I would sit and wait on the step for father to come home from work and began writing. I loved to watch him write, to see the words pour onto the paper, for his stories to begin. But my favorite part was to see them in the newspaper. My father was the best writer I knew.

After school on Wednesday Annie and I were skipping home, we had planned to jump rope while I awaited my father’s arrival from work. When I walked up the sidewalk I noticed his car was already in the driveway, he was two hours early. We walked through the front door; the tension in the room could have been sliced with a knife. My father was sitting at the table with his head in his hands; mother had tears in her eyes that she suddenly attempted to wipe away when she noticed Annie and I. We sat down before a fire in the living room in silence as my father procrastinated, not wanting to tell us the news that was about to turn our lives upside down. He explained to Annie and I that he would no longer be able to work for the newspaper because they were unable to pay him. He explained to us the predicament our economy was in. Annie and I looked at each other in confusion trying to put the pieces together of the information we were just given.

As the weeks went by, time seemed to tick slower, each morning I began to dread waking up. Father went out in search for work and everyday upon Annie and I returning from school we anticipated good news but each time it was the same story. Jobs were hard to come by. We started to eat soup for dinner every night and nothing ever went to waste. Food was getting scarce and money was getting tighter with each day that passed. One day my friend Elisabeth came over to play dolls with me. Right as we began to play I noticed her shiny bracelet that dangled off her wrist. She noticed me eyeing the gold chain and explained her father bought it for her yesterday as they were window shopping. Elisabeth’s father worked at the bank and money was never an issue for them, they lived outside of town in a two story house that I loved to go over and play in with Elisabeth.

I woke up to Annie running into my bed with tears welling in her eyes, as she told me to look outside my window. Elisabeth’s father was pounding a sign in our front lawn and daddy was yelling at him. At first I had no idea what was going on. Downstairs mother was sitting by the kitchen window silently sobbing to herself, and at that moment I knew what this meant. For lunch that day mother said we were going into town to eat, excitement filled my eyes because dinner out on the town was always a special treat for us. As we went into town I noticed the long line right away, we soon were also standing in the line. Mother and father spoke to no one as shame covered their faces. We stood in the soup kitchen line for three hours that day and barely got enough soup to keep our stomachs from growling.

So tonight I sleep on the cold floor in Elisabeth’s room with mommy and daddy down stairs in the guest bedroom. I close my eyes and pray for a miracle, living on nothing but hope that one day life will be normal again and my family will be in our warm home together laughing.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book