Here you are, Saxon, and the rest of you TWers! :) Enjoy it... 300 on the dot...
Once upon a time, many years ago, a baby boy was born. He was called unlucky and his mother was cursed, for he was delivered on a Friday. The woman loved him however, for he was all she had left of a recently murdered husband. They lived in a small house near the beach and there the boy grew quickly.
His name was Peter, after his father, whose picture hung smiling over the mantle. He loved the outdoors and spent many happy hours playing among the trees along the shoreline.
On his eighth birthday, little Peter asked his mother about stars, and she told him what she knew. From that day on, he climbed the stairs to the roof every night. There, he did his best to think of good, unselfish wishes and when he thought them good enough, he sent the wish up to a star.
One of the many wishes Peter made was for the soldiers. From their peaceful little home they could hear gunshots and cannon blasts and Peter’s mother often stood in the doorway, repeating sadly to herself, “They fight for our freedom.”
The two of them lived quietly for many years, cultivating and harvesting their land. Far away the war continued to rage. One day, Peter’s mother fell ill, for she was nearly seventy and time had taken its toll on her. For several days she lay in the hut, drifting in and out of sleep. Peter sat beside her, reading from their favorite book. On the fifth day, as the sunset colored the sky, she breathed her last, leaving Peter alone in the world.
Less than a week had gone by before the door to the hut was locked. Peter had left to fight for his freedom. None of his acquaintances saw him again.