Hidden characters.
Every story has them.
Understudies equipped to step in, extras cheering from the sidelines, others who provide comic relief, or distill information. They stand on call ready to support the main character. Humbly, they recede into the background making room for the protagonist to shine in the spotlight. These hidden characters move the story forward helping to carry it to a successful conclusion. Yet, after the applause or the publication award, we may not even remember their names.
If art, be it written or visual, mirrors real life, I cannot help but consider the everyday, seemingly ordinary people in this story called Life.
I hope this post endures as a testament to all of those hidden characters who are comforting, serving, and giving their all to help others during this COVID-19 Pandemic. Behind the scenes and on the frontlines, they nurse and comfort the sick. Fighting through tears and exhaustion, they carry the healed into the spotlight of wholeness, and then recede into the shadows to continue the fight.
The “extras” keep our streets clean and safe. They brave the roads to ensure that our old and our young can give thanks for the food we are about to receive.
To all of the hidden, invisible and unseen characters, I see you bright and clear.
More importantly, there is one who sits in heaven above who sees and knows all of your works. Your labor of service, dedication and love resonate throughout the land, an anthem, a hymn to life.
God sees you.
I see you.
Thank you!
See you next time on May 22nd.
Veronica Jorge
I killed one of the characters in my novel.
(It was more like two, but I have no qualms about the second one.)
I came up with a death scene I really liked and just had to use it, so someone had to “go.”
Nineteen-year-old Helene languishes in a squalid French prison tormented by questions she cannot answer. Why was she arrested? Who could have made a wrongful accusation against her? And if so, why?
Once in a while you come across a book, that after reading it, makes you pause and think, even marvel because you’ve encountered life from an entirely new perspective. Alison Green Myers’, debut novel, A Bird Will Soar, is such a book.
Winter.
Lifeless, asleep, dead.
All is gone. Lost.
Until the last frost melts away.
As the year draws to an end, preparing to close its final chapter, I think of the beach.
It might seem perfectly normal to those of you living in sunny climates, or to snow bunnies hastening away from the cold. But to those of us in areas that have already seen our first snow, it might sound strange.
A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
Beautiful, rich, and groundbreaking . . .
More info →Kathleen Cotter, junior partner at a past-its-prime Beverly Hills law firm gets a doozy of a first case.
More info →Celebrating Five Years of Global Poetry Poetry that binds, Poetry that is NOW, Poetry that BONDS.
More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
Copyright ©2017 A Slice of Orange. All Rights Reserved. ~PROUDLY POWERED BY WORDPRESS ~ CREATED BY ISHYOBOY.COM
Session expired
Please log in again. The login page will open in a new tab. After logging in you can close it and return to this page.
Love this. Beautifully written!
Hi Denise, Thank you for taking the time to read my post and commenting.
Very well put. We cannot forget those who help to get us through.
Hi Carol, Thank you for your comment. Let’s remember them all when sit in the safety of our homes to share a meal.