Chicken Soup for the Soul

[MrBiddle]

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akong mama naa aning libroha.

[biggie9385]

The Forgotten Friend
by Judith Burnett Schneider

It was my tenth birthday - double digits - and I would have the biggest party ever. The guest list, which I kept at the back of my homework assignment folder, began with a few close friends. But in the two weeks before that special Friday night, it had quickly grown from seven girls to a whopping total of seventeen. Nearly every girl in my fifth-grade class had been invited to sleep over at my house for a big celebration. I was especially happy when each guest I invited excitedly accepted the invitation. It would be a night of scary stories, pizza and lots of presents. But as I later realized, I would truly treasure only one gift I received that night.

The family room was a flurry of shouts and bursts of laughter. We had just finished a game of Twister and were lining up for the limbo when the doorbell rang. I hardly paid attention to who might be at the door. What did it matter, really? Everyone I liked from school was there, in my family room, preparing to lean under the stick held by my two sisters.

“Judy, come here for a minute,” Mom called from the front door.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged to my friends as if to say, 'Now who would dare bother me at a time like this?' What I really wanted to say was, 'It's tough being popular!'

I rounded the bend toward the front door, then stopped. I know my mouth dropped open and I could feel my face turning red, for there on the front porch stood Sarah Westly - the quiet girl who sat next to me in music class - and she was holding a gift.
I thought about the growing list in the back of my assignment folder. How had I forgotten to invite Sarah?

I remembered that I only added a name to the list when someone had shown an interest in me (like kids do when they know someone is having a party and they don't want to be left out). But Sarah had never done that. Never once had she asked me about my birthday party. Never once did she squeeze into the kids surrounding me at lunch time. And once she even helped me carry my backpack while I lugged my science project to our third-floor classroom.

I guess I had forgotten to invite her simply because she wasn't pushing to be invited. I accepted the gift from Sarah and asked her to join the party.

“I can't stay,” she said, looking down. “My dad's waiting in the car.”

“Can you come in for a little while?” I nearly begged. By now I felt pretty bad about forgetting to invite her and really did want her to stay.

“Thanks, but I have to go,” she said, turning toward the door. “See you Monday.”

I stood in the foyer with Sarah's gift in my hands and an empty feeling in my heart.
I didn't open the gift until hours after the party had ended. Hours after the games, the food, the ghost stories, the pillow fights, the pranks on those first to fall asleep and the snores.

Inside the small box was a ceramic tabby cat about three inches tall with its tail in the air. In my mind, it was the best gift I had received, even though I was never really into cats. I later found out that the figurine looked exactly like Sarah's cat, Seymour.
I didn't know it then, but now I realize that Sarah was my one true childhood friend. While the other girls drifted away, Sarah was always there for me, ever loyal and supportive. She was an unconditional friend who stood by me, always encouraging and understanding me.

Although I'll always feel bad about forgetting her, I also realize that I might not have discovered Sarah as a friend had I remembered to invite her to that unforgettable tenth birthday party.

[biggie9385]

Redsy
by Barry Fireman

Redsy was not only the class clown, he was the class terror because he was fearless. He was always in trouble with Miss Farley, our first-grade teacher. Miss Farley couldn't punish him enough to change his behavior. He did whatever he wanted to do, no matter what. He was also the smartest kid you ever saw. We were at the beginning of our first year of school, and Redsy could already count all the way up to one hundred.

But Redsy had a little problem. He couldn't say the 'th' sound. He couldn't say the word “three” - it came out as “free.” It drove Miss Farley crazy because she thought that he could do it right if he only tried harder. Every time Redsy would get caught doing something wrong, Miss Farley would keep him after school and make him practice his 'th's.'

One Friday afternoon, Miss Farley announced that we were all going to count up to one hundred the following Monday. Sure enough, when Monday rolled around, Redsy was the first one to be called on by Miss Farley to come to the front of the class and count.

As he passed her in the aisle, Miss Farley grabbed his sleeve and their eyes met. She was a mean old woman who strictly insisted on having things done her way. I remember not ever wanting to look her in the eye. We were all terrified of her, except for Redsy. He wasn't afraid of anything.

Redsy started counting fast and furiously the instant he reached the front. “One, two, FREE, four, five...” The class snickered and Miss Farley started to get red in the face. Redsy got a little flustered too, because he realized what he had just done. He had told us in the schoolyard, before class, that he was going to do it right. On he went: “Ten, eleven, twelve, FIRTEEN...” The rest of us began to giggle and stifled laughter broke out here and there. Miss Farley stood up and glared at the class. We all stopped and became quiet as Redsy flew on into the twenties.

Then the magic moment arrived. Redsy got to twenty-nine and when he did, the class held its collective breath in unison. Redsy met Miss Farley's stare with utter disregard and cried out, “TWENTY N-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-NE...FIRDY!” Then Redsy flew on in a continuous, nonstop torrent, “Firdy-one, firdy-two, firdy-free...” with a huge smile on his face. The entire class exploded in laughter. We were seeing Redsy at his best - he knew just exactly what he was doing! Our laughter was much more important to Redsy than was Miss Farley's wrath. Miss Farley lunged at Redsy to get him to stop, but he dodged her as easily as a rabbit and continued, “Firdy-four, firdy-five...” to a rising din of uncontrolled laughter.

The laughter continued through the forties. When he reached the fifties, the laughter began to subside, and Redsy slowed his pace as he continued to dodge Miss Farley's now-feeble attempts to grab him as he ran back and forth in front of the class. She finally gave up and sat down at her desk, and Redsy picked up the pace. As he flew past “Ninety-free...” no one uttered a sound because we all were afraid of what would happen when he got to the end.

“Ninety N-I-I-I-I-N-E...one hundred!” he bellowed. Then silence.

Miss Farley remained at her desk with her head lowered, her face in her hands. She was shaking uncontrollably and we became alarmed. After a long moment, she lifted her head and laughter burst out of her like the breaking of a dam. Then the entire class joined in, including Redsy.

Miss Farley finally agreed, for the first time in her long teaching career, that she had been had by the best.

[biggie9385]

Fifty Ways to Love Your Partner
by Mark and Chrissy Donnelly

1. Love yourself first.
2. Start each day with a hug.
3. Serve breakfast in bed.
4. Say “I love you” every time you part ways.
5. Compliment freely and often.
6. Appreciate - and celebrate - your differences.
7. Live each day as if it's your last.
8. Write unexpected love letters.
9. Plant a seed together and nurture it to maturity.
10. Go on a date once every week.
11. Send flowers for no reason.
12. Accept and love each other's family and friends.
13. Make little signs that say “I love you” and post them all over the house.
14. Stop and smell the roses.
15. Kiss unexpectedly.
16. Seek out beautiful sunsets together.
17. Apologize sincerely.
18. Be forgiving.
19. Remember the day you fell in love - and recreate it.
20. Hold hands.
21. Say “I love you” with your eyes.
22. Let her cry in your arms.
23. Tell him you understand.
24. Drink toasts of love and commitment.
25. Do something arousing.
26. Let her give you directions when you're lost.
27. Laugh at his jokes.
28. Appreciate her inner beauty.
29. Do the other person's chores for a day.
30. Encourage wonderful dreams.
31. Commit a public display of affection.
32. Give loving massages with no strings attached.
33. Start a love journal and record your special moments.
34. Calm each other's fears.
35. Walk barefoot on the beach together.
36. Ask her to marry you again.
37. Say yes.
38. Respect each other.
39. Be your partner's biggest fan.
40. Give the love your partner wants to receive.
41. Give the love you want to receive.
42. Show interest in the other's work.
43. Work on a project together.
44. Build a fort with blankets.
45. Swing as high as you can on a swingset by moonlight.
46. Have a picnic indoors on a rainy day.
47. Never go to bed mad.
48. Put your partner first in your prayers.
49. Kiss each other goodnight.
50. Sleep like spoons.

[biggie9385]

Self-Esteem at Five
by Kathrine A. Barhydt

I was blessed with three beautiful, intelligent and terrific children, who are now thirty, twenty-nine and twenty-eight. But at one point in their lives, they were seven, six and five.

My youngest daughter, the five-year-old who was always asking questions, came home from kindergarten one day and asked, "Mommy, how many children did you want?"

Thinking for a minute, I looked at her and said, "Two."

She thought about it for a moment and then asked, "Me, and who else?"

[biggie9385]

Love of a Child
by Brian Locke

Fifteen years ago, Karen was born with a debilitating condition. At the age of one year, because of surgical complications, she suffered a heart attack and was clinically dead for one hour, resulting in harm to her brain. However, with all of these challenges in her life she has grown to be a very beautiful and inspirational young lady, with a clarity that usually humbles and brings a smile to those around her.

Regardless of her condition, her greatest fear in her life has been Santa Claus, solely because of the lyric in a particular Christmas song that says, “He sees you when you're sleeping...” She has always imagined this big, red-clad, hairy-faced man watching her as she is sleeping, and it has scared her so much throughout her life that in recent years her mother has thought that she should really tell her the truth about Santa Claus, but was concerned about the disappointment that might bring.

Karen recently began having these dreams again in quite a severe manner and became so anxious and irrational about the whole thing that her mother decided, in a panic, to tell her the dreaded news. Holding Karen close and looking straight into her eyes, her mother said, “Karen, listen to me, calm down and listen to me...THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS! MOMMY IS SANTA CLAUS, MOMMY HAS ALWAYS BEEN SANTA CLAUS! You don't have to be scared anymore.” Karen looked at her mother with a blank expression and went off to sleep.

The next day when Karen went to school she looked disturbed, so much so that her teacher made a point of asking her what the problem was. Karen answered in a very serious and concerned voice, “I am very worried about my mom.” When the teacher asked her why, she answered in an equally serious voice, “She thinks she's Santa Claus!”

[biggie9385]

Daddy's Girl
by Nancy M. Surella

As I button the last button on her frilly new dress, she reminds me, “Don't forget to poof up the sleeves, Mom.” Finally with sleeves perfectly inflated, and slip, tights and patent-leather shoes all in their proper places, she dashes off to the full-length mirror to admire herself. “It's the prettiest dress in the whole world, isn't it, Mom.”

“You bet,” I respond. This is the night of the Father/Daughter Dance, and we've been looking forward to it for weeks.

“This is gonna be better than Christmas, almost!” She giggles as I ready her hair for the fancy ribbon.

I imagine her dancing the night away with her Prince Charming - Dad. My mind drifts back to the image of this child who didn't have a Daddy until after she could say the word. My husband, Ron, handsome, middle-aged, told the caseworker, “It doesn't matter to me if it's a boy or a girl.”

Months later, on short notice, we flew from Ohio to Seattle with our two other children in tow. That night we hardly slept a wink in our hotel room.

The next morning, eager to meet the new addition to our family, we arrived at the adoption agency offices before they opened for the day. It seemed like hours until finally, Susie, our daughter's birth mother, walked in holding each of Elaina's hands to guide her. Elaina took one look at Ron and shouted, “Da-Da.”

That was it. Hearts melted as he scooped her up in his big arms to say hello. I didn't know who I wanted to hug first, Elaina or her birth mother.

Susie was so brave to make this decision. She'd had an adoption plan in place when she was pregnant with Elaina. But when the birth father came to the hospital saying they should get back together to raise their child, she hoped it would work. It didn't. A few months later Susie was alone again, going to school, working and trying to raise Elaina. She did the best she could, but after nearly a year, she realized that she wanted more for her daughter. She wanted Elaina to be raised with a mommy, daddy and siblings. She happened upon the agency we were working with and chose us from a family picture book we had submitted.

As soon as we met her, I felt an immediate bond to Susie. It's that everlasting bond of motherhood we share because of our love for Elaina.

Susie has gone on to school and kept in touch with us for a while. I know that even if we never hear from her again she'll always be a part of our lives.

As I dab a bit of lipstick on our little girl's lips, Dad emerges from the bedroom. He's dressed in his navy pinstriped suit and brightly colored animal tie that Elaina gave him for his last birthday. He takes one look at Elaina and exclaims, “Wowee, you look beautiful, Princess!”

I know he's nearly as excited as she is. Tonight there's magic in the air. Tonight Elaina's Daddy will experience the thrill of his daughter riding on his feet as they swirl across the dance floor. They'll share such delicacies as macaroni and cheese, pizza and hot dogs, while joining in the Limbo and Hokey Pokey.

As they head out the door, she stops one more time for a quick glance in the mirror. “I really do look like a princess, don't I, Dad?”

As his eyes meet mine, they tell me we're both thinking what we've talked about before. Nothing compares to the love between a little girl and her daddy.

[biggie9385]

Baby Mall
by Carol McAdoo Rehme

My husband brought our three young children down the long hall of the maternity ward, pausing to let them wave in each doorway at the new mothers cuddling bundles. At my room, he beckoned them in and introduced them to their new brother.

Five-year-old Katrina gingerly fingered the baby's thick red hair that the nurse had brushed and oiled into a fat top curl. She inspected his little feet, admired his tiny ears, and planted kisses on his dimpled elbow. But her coos stopped short at his wrist.

Drawing back, she pointed at the identification bracelet and frowned, “Look, Mommy. They left the price tag on!”

[biggie9385]

Grandpa's Precious Gift
by Sharon Crismon

I wanted a baby with all my heart, but I was not getting pregnant. I waited, I prayed, I cried and I went to my parents when I could not find any more courage inside myself. With their love and support, I carried on...through tests, artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization and life in general.

Over four years passed. Then, on March 8, 1997, a day I will never forget, my loving father passed away. He was our leader. He believed in us more than we did. He believed in miracles. Our family felt lost without him. My mom, my siblings and I all struggled, trying to keep our spirits up without Dad by our side. All the while, I kept trying for a baby, to no avail. I finally surrendered all my trust over to God's hands in order to find some peace in my heart. On a television show, my mom saw a speaker who suggested writing a letter to your deceased loved one to help heal your wounds. Unbeknownst to me, she tried it and it seemed to help her immensely.

After five long years of trying to conceive, it finally happened. I was pregnant! My baby's due date was the day before my dad's birthday. Yet, that day came and went. My baby girl, Samantha, decided to be born right on her grandpa's sixty-first birthday! What an extra wonderful surprise. When it seemed like one door closed in my life, somehow it was opened right back up.

When Samantha was about six months old, I continued to marvel at the miracle of hope I had been given from heaven. It was then that my mom told me about her letter to dad. Here is the part she wrote about me. “Sharon and Ron still have had no luck on having a little one. Maybe you can ask God to give them some help!” That letter was written two months before I got pregnant.

I am writing this letter to my mom, dad and, of course, God as thanks for keeping my heart full of love, hope, trust and the strength to believe in miracles. Also, thanks from Samantha - Grandpa's precious gift.

[biggie9385]

Love in the Rearview Mirror
by Jim Warda

I found love in the rearview mirror.

Over the weekend, my wife, the boys and I were running errands in the minivan. But neither Jeremy nor Matthew had slept well the night before so they were exhausted.
During the ride, Matthew's head started to bob as he fought to keep his eyes open. Soon, though, he fell asleep and his head dropped to the left, next to Jeremy.

At the same time, Jeremy, who was almost asleep himself, saw his brother sleeping and moved to the right to support Matthew's head with his shoulder. And, in a moment that will never leave me, he turned and gently kissed the top of Matthew's head, not knowing I was watching.

And, that's where I began to worry. Because I knew that no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I wrote, I would never be able to capture that sacred, perfect moment when my sons became something else, something deeper than what we know. Something that sits quietly behind what we see waiting patiently for us to discover it. Something that can be found in awkward first kisses, mothers rocking their newborn babies, husbands whispering their wives' names, and the quiet moments of courage and caring that happen all around and within us.

But, no matter how much I worry, I can't stop searching for the words. Because love wouldn't have it any other way.