Living on the Edge
by
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Judy looked out her bedroom window at the lights in the distance. She was sick of living on the edge of life. She longed for the life in the center of town, even a friend nearby. Living on the edge of town was like living on the edge of life, especially when the darkness of night crept in, even early in the morning before dawn. There wasn't even a streetlight at her family's end of the street. The bright light of the town beckoned to Judy every night. And here she was--stuck out in the sticks. Judy thought to herself, I want to be in the middle of town, having fun with friends. Even the beavers in the pond by the house have more fun than I do.
"Breakfast," her mother called up the stairs. "Coming, mom." No time to think about her problems now. It was a school day, and she had to walk a mile to get there. Her oatmeal was on the table waiting for her. The cheery pattern of flowers on the oilcloth covering the table didn't cheer up Judy. It would take more than that to lift her spirits. "Good morning," said her grandfather. "You look like a snow cloud today." He had a twinkle in his blue eyes. Judy managed a smile for him. It wasn't his fault she felt so isolated. "It's ten-below-zero, so wear an extra sweater, Judy. And a hat. I don't know why you have a short haircut in the winter," admonished her mother. Judy felt like screaming, I'm a junior in high school! I know how to dress myself! Instead, she quietly ate her oatmeal. After breakfast, Judy put on all the layers of winter clothes to face the cold Northern Michigan weather. She put a blue knit hat over her short straight brown hair. She grabbed her books, said "Bye," and went out the kitchen door. She walked down the steep driveway to the road. Across the road, there was a frozen creek surrounded by trees. To the left was a deep pit filled with water; the pit was the remains of an old iron mine active in the 1800's. It had apple trees near it, the result of apple cores left by the miners decades ago after eating their lunches. But Judy had no thoughts of the past at the moment. She was too frustrated in the present. The nearest neighbors were a block away. They were a nice elderly couple. But, of course, they had nobody Judy's age in their home, and Judy was not thinking of them today as she went by their house. Judy was lonely and thinking about herself. She passed another mine pit, rounded a corner, and came to the first of many houses. A block ahead, she saw a group of girls in her class. How she longed to be with them, but they wouldn't wait for her to catch up with them. Judy was too shy to run to catch up with them. The train ride to Florida was a long trip. It was the first time Judy had gone anywhere without her parents. It was the first time she was out of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Judy looked at the fields and forests flashing by the window, but she wasn't really seeing the scenery. Her mind was working overtime. None of this made any sense to her. Moving to Florida for the winter! She had had pneumonia and bronchitis as a child and had never been sent to Florida. Judy had mentioned that fact to her mother just a few days ago. Her mother said that was because she was too young then, and her aunt would have had to hire a babysitter to be with Judy when she was on duty at the hospital. And why did the doctor ask so many questions about the dates of her monthlies and dating boys? Suddenly an idea dawned on Judy. Could I be having a baby? She didn't even know for sure what made babies. The movie in gym class hadn't given that information and neither had her mother. Judy had no close girlfriends to ask for facts of life, except Elly, and Elly had been interested in boys, not babies. Could it have happened when Joe and I were naked last summer? Was that why Joe left? Did he suspect a baby and didn't want to get married? Judy had hoped Joe would send her a letter after he went into the Navy, but she hadn't received any word from him. Judy's questions kept circling in her mind, but she had no solid answers to the questions. Finally, mentally exhausted, she fell asleep, only to have nightmares. * * * Judy woke up feeling so alone on the train, even lonelier than she had felt in the lunchroom at school, even lonelier than living on the edge of town. She thought, Last winter I thought the beavers in the pond below our house had more of a social life than I did. Now its winter again, and I wish I were back home by the beaver pond, living on the edge of town.
Just a few months ago I was sick of living on the edge of life. Now I'm really sick--every day. Judy's stomach was sick again this morning. The breakfast food smells from the dining car of the train, added to the swaying motion of the train, made her feel even more nauseated. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on watching the Chicago skyline in the distance to take her mind off of her sick stomach. She had many more miles to go before reaching her destination
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About the Book
Living on the Edge
Unplanned pregnancies present problems at any time, but in the 1950’s, there were stricter moral codes than now. An illegitimate child and its mother were often treated as outcasts. Worst of all, Judy is ostracized by her mother, who fears that the fact of the pregnancy will become public to the people of their town. Could adoption be a workable option? Would Joe help her? What can Judy do to protect both the baby and herself? These are questions Judy needs to answer as she solves her pregnancy predicament.
About the Author
MARY GOLOVERSIC (author of 18 books)
When I was nearing fifty, a three-month experience at a Skid Row mission in Chicago became a turning point in my life. Someone told me that I was believing the lies of Satan from the pit of hell, and then the person showed me how to sort out lies and truths. I began to think--if I, a person who was active in church and was teaching a ladies' Bible study, got deceived by lies, then many other people were also being deceived. I realized that we are not only deceived by the devil, but by other people, by some advertisements and some media, AND by ourselves with our own deceptive thoughts. We are all deceived, but we are all deceivers, too. I began to share this life-changing information with others to guide them to success in all aspects of their lives. Before I realized it, I'd become a writer, so I could share this information worldwide.
My writings center around the many forms of love--its meaning, its expressions, its use and misuse. In fact, "love" is in the middle of my long last name, “Goloversic”
When we learn to give and receive love in a godly unselfish way, present hatred will dwindle, past hurts will heal, and future hurts will be prevented.
Though I never planned to become a writer, all my life I was preparing for it, not realizing how I would use the knowledge and wisdom. Of course, my two college degrees with majors in education and numerous minors in many areas, were useful for writing--the research methods, literature, history, biology. Decades in the teaching field helped me develop techniques for getting my ideas across to people of all ages.
Years of studying piano and art for enjoyment enabled me to write songs for the books I write and do the illustrations and photos. Attendance at church services and Bible studies (in person and tuning into Christian radio programs) and extensive Christian counseling guided me to discover Bible truths to battle the lies life brings each of us, and eventually use these Scripture references to back up my written statements in my books.
My pastimes of people-watching, taking nature walks, plus traveling throughout the U.S.A, Canada, Mexico and living two years in Spain, provided pictures in my mind that I could turn into words on paper.
Marriage and parenting three sons gave me insight into family living. My friends show me the lasting value of true friendship. I probably got part of my imaginativeness from my mom.
My tender heart gave me sympathy, but accidents, illnesses, surgeries, and troubles of all sorts gave me empathy. If I hadn't had all these heartbreaking experiences, I would not have become the storyteller that I now am.
Without my faith in God, I would have accomplished little, but He gives me the strength to complete the many books; and, through His promises, I have confidence to keep going. He gave me my talents, and I use them to serve him.
My sense of humor adds a bit of frosting to the cake of my writing career.