Sara Lindsey
Bio
Wife-Mother-Christian-Teacher-Author
Stories (5/0)
Public Speaking
The temperature in that library had to be reaching 100 degrees. Oh, that’s right, they turn the air off in the summer to conserve money. Every possible fold in my body was dripping sweat. I know my face and neck had to be “Fifty Shades of Red”. At least as red as a cherry red Firebird. Of course, I had to inherit rosacea from my mom and every time I get the least bit stressed, I tend to light up like a bright red-light bulb, lucky me.
By Sara Lindsey2 years ago in Journal
Saving Annie
In hopes that it would ease the unbearable pain of her breaking heart, she ran as fast as she could down the long hospital hallway. She’d wake up in her own bed any minute now. She had to. There was no choice in this matter. Her mom promised that she would be there for all the important events in her life. That’s just the way it’s meant to be. Her heart physically hurt. The pain was excruciating. Just a month ago, Mom had told her that she was going to beat the wretched virus. Her mother took on the stance of a fighter. Her mom was the only one who called her Anna Kate. Her mom always said that was the name she was given so that is what she would be called. But at some point, in her childhood she just became Annie with everyone. Oh, in this moment, how she missed the way her mom said Anna Kate when she got into trouble. Angrily, Annie pushed her way through the heavy steel doors and headed down the stairs toward the exit outside of the hospital lobby. She ran as if she could get away from it. She tried to convince herself that she could outrun the pain. Every time her feet pounded the pavement, she cursed God and what he had done to her mom and family. Her father had just died a year ago. Why would someone want to hurt her family? She couldn’t stand all this agonizing pain. Never in her life had she felt so broken. It was though she was spiraling to the bottom of a dark pit and she knew she couldn’t possibly see her way out.
By Sara Lindsey2 years ago in Fiction
The Best Empawyee Ever
Princess Ladybug Lindsey, otherwise known as Bug, kept me sane during the initial days of the pandemic when I was teaching from my bedroom office. I could talk to her just like a coworker, bounce ideas off her cute little furry head, pick her up when a prop was needed and use her as an ongoing excuse to go take a walk outside. It was wonderful. She agreed with all my ideas, never questioned my lesson plans, got more excited than my students did and worked her little nose to the grindstone all day long. She was the consummate paraprofessional as I “attempted” to teach struggling readers to read on Zoom. This task was no easy feat and believe me Bug got me through some of the most trying times with my kiddos. I’ve taught reading for 25 years and never have I ever struggled as much as I did last year. My experience teaching beginning readers from a computer made my decision to retire a great deal easier last spring.
By Sara Lindsey3 years ago in Petlife
The Other Side
As Christmas carols played in the background, Claire stood frozen, staring at the colored lights blinking on the green, snow-flocked Christmas tree and realized the great irony of her situation. She had been here in this exact location, a few weeks ago, just a handful of steps away on “the other side”. She recalled the day she saw hopelessness in a young mother’s face when she didn’t have enough food for her small child to eat. She watched as the mother took the biscuit from her own plate, tore it into bite-size pieces and put it on her child’s plate. She observed from a distance the deep, heartfelt pain when a father was told he had to sleep separate from his wife and baby. He would sleep on the cold hard floor in the gym so that his wife and baby would have a threadbare blanket and a cot in the hallway. She had silently watched, with tears in her eyes and an ache in her heart, as a young boy licked the last tiny morsels of a biscuit from his plate and begged the volunteers for more. The workers refused his request because they had to follow the rules. “One biscuit per person.” All that had been when she was volunteering on the serving line. Yet now she stood among them not to serve but to be served. She had cooked, encouraged, and loved them with no real understanding of how they felt with no place to call home, never imagining that she would find herself in a position to receive rather than give. Suddenly, it hit her, she was walking in their shoes and the stark reality of what they endured had just begun to reach to the tip of her very soul. She looked around again through different eyes. She felt her heart breaking as she watched a young child cry from hunger. A lone tear ran down her cheek as she saw an old man carrying around a plastic bag full of all his belongings. How could someone fit everything he owned into one small, brown, plastic grocery bag? Then she glanced down at her own suitcase and realized all that was precious to her was in this one small case.
By Sara Lindsey3 years ago in Fiction