Minute

There was a girl named Maribell.  She lived in Claremont, New Hampshire. Her mom, Mary, was a teacher and her dad, Tom, was in the military. Maribell was in 6th grade and had no siblings. She didn’t see her dad a lot, he was often in another country fighting. She didn’t know him well and was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd. Yet, she was always excited when there was a chance he might come home. Maribell watched the news every night to see if maybe the war was over and he would come home. She lay in bed at night wondering if he still remembered her, or if he was even alive.      It was a cold crisp day in November. The first snow had come the night before and Maribell was sadder than ever. She hadn’t seen her dad in a few years and winter was her least favorite season. By what the newscasters said, nothing was going to change very soon. That night Maribell and Mary sat at the table eating supper and didn’t notice that a car had pulled up their windy, dirt driveway. Only a second later, there was a knock on the door. Both of them were very surprised. Mary stood up and walked over to the door. When the door opened, she gasped so loud. Maribell kept blinking. Was it real? Was this a dream? She finally got out of her chair and ran to the man at the door.     Was it him? Was it true? Mary stepped forward and gave him a hug. Her mind was swirling with thoughts. She was excited, nervous, and curious. Maribell couldn’t decide what she should say, what should she do. She couldn’t even decide how she was feeling. She stood there wondering for a minute and then realized the most important thing was that her dad was home and she was very excited to see him. She joined in on the group hug, and Tom never left again.