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cialblessingsHe'dsenttoshowmeHewaswithmetheentiretime.

PlantaRowfortheHungryByJeffLowenfels

ItwasacoldnightinWashington,D.C.,andIwasheadingbacktothehotelwhenamanapproachedme.HeaskedifIwouldgivehimsomemoneysohecouldgetsomethingtoeat.I'dreadthesigns:"Don'tgivemoneytopanhandlers."SoIshookmyheadandkeptwalking.Iwasn'tpreparedforareply,butwithresignation,hesaid,"IreallyamhomelessandIreallyamhungry!Youcancomewithmeandwatchmeeat!"ButIkeptonwalking.Theincidentbotheredmefortherestoftheweek.Ihadmoneyinmypocketanditwouldn'thavekilledmetohandoverabuckortwoevenifhehadbeenlying.Onafrigid,coldnight,noless,Iassumedtheworstofafellowhumanbeing.FlyingbacktoAnchorage,Icouldn'thelpthinkingofhim.Itriedtorationalizemyfailuretohelpbyassuminggovernmentagencies,churchesandcharitiesweretheretofeedhim.Besides,you'renotsupposedtogivemoneytopanhandlers.SomewhereoverSeattle,IstartedtowritemyweeklygardencolumnforTheAnchorageDailyNews.Outoftheblue,Icameupwithanidea.Bean'sCafe,thesoup

kitcheninAnchorage,feedshundredsofhungryAlaskanseveryday.WhynottrytogetallmyreaderstoplantonerowintheirgardensdedicatedtoBean's?DedicatearowandtakeitdowntoBean's.Cleanandsimple.Wedidn'tkeeprecordsbackthen,buttheideabegantotakeoff.Folkswouldfaxmeorcallwhentheytooksomethingin.Thosewhoonlygrewflowersdonatedthem.Foodforthespirit.Andsalveformyconscience.In1995,theGardenWritersAssociationofAmericaheldtheirannualconventioninAnchorageandafterlearningofAnchorage'sprogram,PlantaRowforBean'sbecamePlantaRowForTheHungry.TheoriginalideawastohaveeverymemberoftheGardenWritersAssociationofAmericawriteortalkaboutplantingarowforthehungrysometimeduringthemonthofApril.AsmoreandmorepeoplestartedworkingwiththePlantaRowconcept,newvariationscroppedup,ifyouwillpardonthepun.Manycompaniesgavefreeseedtocu

stomersanddisplayedthelogo,whichalsoappearedinnationalgardeningpublications.RowmarkerswiththePlantaRowlogoweredistributedtogardenerstosetaparttheir"RowfortheHungry."GardeneditorJoanJackson,backedbyTheSanJoseMercuryNewsandCalifornia'snearlyyear-roundgrowingseason,raisedmorethan30,000poundsoffruitsandvegetablesherfirstyear,andshowedGWAAhowtheprogramcouldreallywork.TexasfruitfarmsdonatedfoodtotheirlocalfoodbankafterbeinginspiredbyPlantaRow.Todaytheprogramcontinuestothriveandgrow.IamstunnedthatmillionsofAmericansarethreatenedbyhunger.IfeverygardenerinAmerica-andwe'reseventymillionstrong-plantsonerowforthehungry,wecanmakequiteadentinthenumberofneighborswhodon'thaveenoughtoeat.MaybethenIwillstopfeelingguiltyaboutabandoningahungrymanIcould

havehelped.

BeyondExpectationsByMiltGarrett

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ItseemsacardealershipinmyhometownofAlbuquerquewasselling,onaverage,sixtoeightnewcarsaday,sixdaysaweek.Iwasalsotoldthat72percentofthisdealership'sfirst-timevisitorsreturnedforasecondvisit.(Atthattime,theaverageforalldealershipsinAlbuquerqueforsecond-timevisitorswas8percent.)Iwascuriousandintrigued.Howdoesacardealershipget72percentofitsfirst-timevisitorstoreturn?Andhowcantheysellsixtoeightcarsadayinaslumpingcarmarket?WhenIwalkedintoSaturnofAlbuquerquethatFridayfouryearsago,thestafftheredidn'tknowmefromAdam;yettheysharedwithmetheirpricingpolicy,theprofitmarginoneverymodel,andstaffincome.TheyevenopenedtheirtrainingmanualsformyreviewandinvitedmebackonSaturdayifIwantedmoreinformation(aninvitationIheartilyaccepted).Ilearnedthatthisdealership(likeallSaturndealerships)hasa"no-dickersticker"policy;thatis,thepriceonthewindowisthepriceyoupayforthecar.Period.Youcan'tevennegotiateforafreesetoffloormats.Saturnabidesbyitspremiseofsellinghigh-qualityautomobilesforareasonableprice.Furthermore,Saturnsalesconsultants(theirtermforcustomer-contactpeople)aren'tpaidacommission-they'resalaried.Thismeanswhenyouwalkontotheshowroomflooryou'renotbombardedwithwhatIrefertoas"beyondeager"salespeople.IexpandedmyresearchtootherdealershipsinAlbuquerque.ItturnedoutthatFordEscorts,LTDsandThunderbirds,aswellastheMercuryMarquis,werealsosoldas"no-dickersticker"cars.AsBruceSutherlandatRichardsonFordsaid,"WewerelosingourmarkettoSaturnbecauseoftheirpricingandsalarypolicies."Healsosaid,"IfwealldidwhatSaturnwasdoing,we'dnotonlymakeadecentliving,butwe'dalsoenjoyabetterreputat

ion."OnSunday,thedayaftermysecondvisittotheSaturnstore(theirterm,notmine),mywife,Jane,andIwerewalkingaswefrequentlydo.OnthisparticularJunemorning,Janegentlyslippedherhandinmineandsaidtenderly,"Idon'tknowifyouremember,buttoday'smyfifthanniversaryofbeingcancer-free."Shewasdiagnosedwithbreastcancerfiveyearsagoandhadundergonesurgery.Iwasstunned,partiallybecauseIwasembarrassedthatIhadforgotten,and,partially,because...well,itseemswespendallofourtimeearningalivingandneverstoptoliveourearnings.Imean,isn'tthiswhatit'sreallyallabout?Ididn'tknowwhattodowithJane'sinformation.Ispoketohertenderly.Allday.Itookhertolunch.Iboughtthelunch.Itwasanice,intimateday.Thenextday,Monday,Janewentofftoworkteachingschool.Stillbesidemyselfnotknowingwhattodotomarkthisspecialoccasion,IdidthemostimpetuousthingI'veeverdoneinmylife:IboughtanewSaturn.

IboughteveryaccessorytheyproduceinSpringhill,Tennessee,tohangonthatcar.Therewasn'tanaccessorymadethatIdidn'tbuy.Ididn'tpickthecolorandIdidn'tpickthemodel,butIpaidcashandtoldthemI'dbringJaneinonWednesdayat4:30tomakethosetwodecisions.ItoldthemwhyIwasbuyingthecar,andthatitwasmysecretandtheywerenottorevealanythingtoher.Tuesdaymorning,itdawnedonmethatJanealwayswantedawhitecar.IcalledoursalesconsultantatSaturn,andIaskedhimifhehadanythingwhiteinthestore.Hesaidhehadoneleftbuthecouldn'tguaranteeit'dstillbeavailableWednesdayat4:30becausetheyweresellingsofast.IsaidI'dtakemychancesandaskedhimtoputitintheshowroom.Wednesdaycameandwent.Unexpectedly,someoneinourfamilywasadmittedtothehospital.So,itwasn'tuntil9:30Saturdaymorningwhen,aftertellingJanethebiggestlietogetheroutofthehouse,wefinallymadeourwaytotheSaturnstore.Iquicklyturne

dintotheparkinglotandJaneangrilyasked,"Whatareyoudoing?Youpromisedmewe'dgethomerightaway."Isaid,"I'msorry,IforgotIhavetopickupsomethinghereformyKiwanisspeechnextweek."JanehadneverbeeninaSaturnstore.Whenwewentthroughthefrontdoor,theLordtookcontrolofherfeetandhermouth.ShesawthatlittlewhiteSaturncoupeallthewayacrosstheshowroomfloor.Shequicklypassedamulti-coloredseaofautomobiles,satinthelittlewhiteSaturnandsaid,"Oh,whataprettylittlecar.CanIhaveanewcar?"Isaid,"No.NotuntilCharliegraduatesfromcollege."Ourson,Charlie,wasattendingtheUniversityofNewSouthWalesinSydney,Australia(wecallthat"outofstate"tuition).Shesaid,"I'msickandtiredofdrivingth

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atoldDodge,Iwantanewcar."Isaid,"Ipromise,justthreemoresemestersandhe'llbeout."Next,Janewalkedaroundtothefrontofthecar.Asshelookeditover,sheletoutthemostblood-curdling,shrillscreamI'deverheardin29yearsofmarriage.Now,beforeItellyouwhyJanescreamed,letmetellyouwhatoursalesconsultanthaddone.Hehadorderedalarge,professionallyengravedsign(whitelettersonblue)andaffixedtheSaturncompanylogoonit.ThesignstoodaloneonthehoodofthelittlewhiteSaturncoupe.Itsaid"Congratulations,Jane.Thiscarisyours.Fiveyearscancer-free.Let'scelebratelife.FromMilt,BillyandTeamSaturn"EveryemployeeatSaturnofAlbuquerquehadendorsedthebackofthatsign.Janesawit,screamed,collapsedinmyarmsandbawledhereyesout.Ididn'tknowwhattodo.Iwasintears.ItookoutmyinvoicefromthepreviousMonday,unfoldeditand,pointingtothewhitecoupe,said,"No,honey,thiscarisn'tyours.Iboughtyouthisone."Itappedtheinvoicewithmyindexfinger.Janesaid,"No,Iwantthisonerighthere."Charlie,whowashomefromcollegeandwithus,said,"No,Mom.DadboughtyouanythingyouwantinSpringhill,Tennesseeoranythingonthelothere."Janesaid,"Youdon'tunderstand,Iwantthisone."Whilethisconversationwasgoingon,Ilookedaroundanddiscoveredthattherewasnooneinthestore.Oursalesconsultanthadarrangeditsothatwecouldsharethemomentalone.Themechanics,theclericalstaff,thefront-deskreceptionist,managementandallsalesconsultantshadleftthestoreforthesanctityofourevent.Evenso,it'simpossibletohavealotofprivacywhensomanypeoplearestandingoutsidetheshowroomwindowslookingin.WhenJanescreamedandcollapsedinmyarms,Isaweverybodyoutsideapplaudandbegintocry.Every

newcustomerthatcametothestoreinthoseminuteswasnotallowedtoenter;instead,thestafftookthemasideandexplainedwhatwashappening.Janeneverdrovethecaruntilshetookitthroughtheshowroomdoorthatdaytodriveithome.Overtheyears,I'vetoldthisstoryintheUnitedStates,AustraliaandIndonesiaasanexampleoflegendaryservice.AwomaninmyaudienceinSanFranciscofromAnchorage,Alaska,heardthestory;shecalledSaturnofAlbuquerquelongdistanceandboughtanewcar.It'slikeKenBlanchardsays,"It'sonlythestoriestoldaboutusthatdifferentiateusinthemarketplace."

JustOneWishByMargaretE.Mack

FoxRivergavelifetothecountrytownofColbyPoint,fortheroadandtheriverranalongsideoneanother.ColbyPointwasreallythenameofaroadthatcreptbetweenthehillsandvalleysofMcHenry,Illinois.Homeswerescatteredhereandthere-mostlysummerhomesandretirementhomes.Attheveryendoftheroadthreehousesallfacedoneanother.Threesisters-allsingle,allseniors-livedinoneofthehomes.Acrossthewaytheirwidowedfirstcousinlivedinayellowhouse.Nexttoherlivedtheirbrother,Bill,andhiswifeCleo.Cleohadmultiplesclerosis,sothepairhadmovedtoColbyPointseekingaquiet,relaxedlife.Littledidtheyknowwhentheyrelocatedtothissereneareathattheywouldenduprearingtheirgranddaughter,Margie.Beforelong,theonce

quietneighborhoodbecameactivewiththesoundsofachild.MargiealwayslookedforwardtothearrivalofChristmas,andthisyearwasnodifferentaswinterbegantosettlelikeawarmblanketaroundColbyPoint.Everyonewasinaflurry,foratthechurchMargieandherfamilyattended,thecongregationwaspreparingtosharetheirChristmaswisheswitheachother.SinceCleocouldn'tmakeittochurch,andBilldidn'tliketoleaveheralonefortoolong,hewasinthehabitofdroppingMargieoffatchurchearlyonSundaymornings;theauntswouldbringherhome.AsMargiesatinchurchthatmorning,sherehearsedinhermindoverandoverwhatshewouldsay.Shewasn'tafraid,forsheknewwhatanimportantwishthiswa

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s.Theserviceseemedtodragonandon.FinallythepastorutteredthewordsMargiehadbeenanticipatingallmorning,"Thisisaspecialtimeofyearwheneveryonearoundtheworldcelebratespeaceandgoodwilltowardourfellowman.Thisyear,hereatSt.John's,wewanttohearyourChristmaswishes.Wecannotfilleveryone'swish,butwewouldliketotryandfillafew.AsIcallyourname,pleasecomeforwardandtellusaboutyourChristmaswish."Oneafteranother,thechurchmemberssharedtheirwishes,largeandsmall.Margiewasthelastandtheyoungesttospeak.Asshelookedoutatthecongregation,shespokeconfidently,"Iwouldlikeformygrandmatohavechurch.Shecannotwalk,andsheandmygrandpahavetostayathome.Theymisscomingsomuch.SothatiswhatIwishfor.Andpleasedon'ttellthem,foritneedstobeasurprise."Ridinghomewithheraunts,Margiecouldtelltheywerespeakinginlowtonesaboutherwish.Shehopedthattheywouldkeephersecret.AsthenextSundaycamearound,MargiewasgettingreadyforchurchwhenGrandmaasked,"Whyareyousofidgety?Youhaven'tsatstillallmorning.""Ijustknowthatsomethingwonderfulisgoingtohappentoday!""Ofcourseitwill,"saidhergrandmawithachuckle."It'salmostChristmas,youknow."Grandpawasgettingonhiscoatwhenhehappenedtolookoutthefrontwindow.Hesawsomecarscomingdownthedirtroadoneafteranother.Nowatthistimeofyeartherewasn'ttoomuchtraffic,sothiswasreallyamazing.Margiepushedhergrandmatothewindowsothatshecouldseeallthecars.Prettysoonthecarswereparkedallupanddowntheroadasfarasapersoncouldsee.

GrandpalookedatGrandma,andtheybothlookedatMargie.Grandpaasked,"Justwhatdidyouwishfor,Margie?""IwishedthatyouandGrandmacouldhavechurch.AndIjustknewthatitwouldcometrue.Look!There'sthepastor,andeveryonefromchurchiscomingupthewalk."Thecongregationarrivedwithcoffeeandcookiesandcupsandgifts.TheysangChristmascarolsandlistenedtothepastorspeakongivingtoothersthegiftsthatGodgives.Laterthatnight,Margieslippedoutthebackdoorandwalkedoutsidetolookupatthestars."Thankyou,"shewhispered,"thankyouforgivingmemywish."ThatwasjustoneofthemanywishesgrantedforMargieasshegrewup.Herchildhoodoverflowedwiththeloveofhergrandparents,fourgreataunts,andmanywise,caringneighbors.Margiewastrulyablessedlittlegirl.

Ishouldknow-Iwasthatlittlegirl.

WorkingChristmasDayByVictoriaSchlintz

ItwasanunusuallyquietdayintheemergencyroomonDecembertwenty-fifth.Quiet,thatis,exceptforthenurseswhowerestandingaroundthenurses'stationgrumblingabouthavingtoworkChristmasDay.Iwastriagenursethatdayandhadjustbeenouttothewaitingroomtocleanup.Sincetherewerenopatientswaitingtobeseenatthetime,Icamebacktothenurses'stationforacupofhotciderfromthecrockpotsomeonehadbrought

inforChristmas.JustthenanadmittingclerkcamebackandtoldmeIhadfivepatientswaitingtobeevaluated.Iwhined,"Five,howdidIgetfive;Iwasjustoutthereandnoonewasinthewaitingroom.""Well,therearefivesignedin."SoIwentstraightoutandcalledthefirstname.Fivebodiesshowedupatmytriagedesk,apalepetitewomanandfoursmallchildreninsomewhatrumpledclothing."Areyouallsick?"Iaskedsuspiciously."Yes,"shesaidweakly,andloweredherhead."Okay,"Ireplied,unconvinced,"who'sfirst?"Onebyonetheysatdown,andIa

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skedtheusualpreliminaryquestions.Whenitcametodescriptionsoftheirpresentingproblems,thingsgotalittlevague.Twoofthechildrenhadheadaches,buttheheadachesweren'taccompaniedbythenormalbodylanguageofholdingtheheadortryingtokeepitstillorsquintingorgrimacing.Twochildrenhadearaches,butonlyonecouldtellmewhichearwasaffected.Themothercomplainedofacough,butseemedtoworktoproduceit.Somethingwaswrongwiththepicture.Ourhospitalpolicy,however,wasnottoturnawayanypatient,sowewouldseethem.WhenIexplainedtothemotherthatitmightbealittlewhilebeforeadoctorsawherbecause,eventhoughthewaitingroomwasempty,ambulanceshadbroughtinseveral,morecriticalpatients,intheback,sheresponded,"Takeyourtime,it'swarminhere."Sheturnedand,withasmile,guidedherbroodintothewaitingroom.Onahunch(callitnursingjudgment),Icheckedthechartaftertheadmittingclerkhadfinishedregisteringthefamily.Noaddress-theywerehomeless.Thewaitingroomwaswarm.IlookedoutatthefamilyhuddledbytheChristmastree.Thelittlestonewaspointingatthetelevisionandexclaimingsomethingtohermother.TheoldestonewaslookingatherreflectioninanornamentontheChristmastree.Iwentbacktothenursesstationandmentionedwehadahomelessfamilyinthewaitingroom-amotherandfourchildrenbetweenfourandtenyearsofage.Thenurses,grumblingaboutworkingChristmas,turnedtocompassionforafamilyjusttryingtogetwarmonChristmas.Theteamwentintoaction,muchaswedowhenthere'samedicalemergency.ButthisonewasaChristmasemergency.WewereallofferedafreemealinthehospitalcafeteriaonChristmasDay,sow

eclaimedthatmealandpreparedabanquetforourChristmasguests.Weneededpresents.WeputtogetherorangesandapplesinabasketoneofourvendorshadbroughtthedepartmentforChristmas.WemadelittlegoodiebagsofstickersweborrowedfromtheX-raydepartment,candythatoneofthedoctorshadbroughtthenurses,crayonsthehospitalhadfromarecentcoloringcontest,nursebearbuttonsthehospitalhadgiventhenursesatannualtrainingdayandlittlefuzzybearsthatnursesclippedontotheirstethoscopes.Wealsofoundamug,apackageofpowderedcocoa,andafewotheroddsandends.Wepulledribbonandwrappingpaperandbellsoffthedepartment'sdecorationsthatwehadallcontributedto.Asseriouslyaswemetphysicalneedsofthepatientsthatcametousthatday,ourteamworkedtomeettheneeds,andexceedtheexpectations,ofafamilywhojustwantedtobewarmonChristmasDay.WetookturnsjoiningtheChristmaspartyinthewaitingroom.Eachnursetookh

isorherlunchbreakwiththefamily,choosingtospendtheir"offduty"timewiththesepeoplewhoselaughteranddelightfulchatterbecamequitecontagious.Whenitwasmyturn,Isatwiththematthelittlebanquettablewehadcreatedinthewaitingroom.Wetalkedforawhileaboutdreams.Thefourchildrenweretellingmeaboutwhattheywouldliketobewhentheygrowup.Thesix-year-oldstartedtheconversation."Iwanttobeanurseandhelppeople,"shedeclared.Afterthefourchildrenhadsharedtheirdreams,IlookedattheMom.Shesmiledandsaid,"Ijustwantmyfamilytobesafe,warmandcontent-justliketheyarerightnow."The"party"lastedmostoftheshift,beforewewereabletolocateashelterthatwouldtakethefamilyinonChristmasDay.Themotherhadaskedthattheirchartsbepulled,sothesepatientswerenotseenthatdayintheemergencydepartment.Buttheyweretreated.

Astheywalkedtothedoortoleave,thefour-year-oldcamerunningback,gavemeahugandwhispered,"Thanksforbeingourangelstoday."Assheranbacktojoinherfamily,theyallwavedonemoretimebeforethedoorclosed.Iturnedaroundslowlytogetbacktowork,alittleembarrassedforthetearsinmyeyes.Therestoodagroupofmycoworkers,onewithaboxoftissues,whichshepassedaroundtoeachnursewhoworkedaChristmasDayshewillneverforget.

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LightintheWindowByEileenGoltz

ItwasthefirstnightofChanukahandthenightbeforeEllie'slastfinal.AsafreshmanshewasmorethanreadytogohomeforthefirsttimesinceAugust.She'dpackedeverythingsheneededtotakehomeexceptthebooksshewascrammingwithandhermenorah,the8branchcandelabrathat'sliteverynightofChanukah.Elliehadbeensotemptedtopackthemenorahearlierthatnight.However,justasshewasgettingreadytojustifytoherselfwhyitwasOKto"skip"thefirstnight'slighting-(A)she'dhavetowaitforthecandlestoburnoutbeforeshecouldleaveforthelibraryand(B)shehadnoclueastowherehercandleswerehiding-herconscience(andcommonsense)kickedin.Thevoicecomingfromthatspecialplaceinherbodywhere"motherguilt"residessaid,"Youhavethemenorahout,solightitalready."Neveronetoignorehermother'sadvice,Elliedugupthecandles,litthem,saidtheblessings,placedthemenorahonherwindowsillandspenttherestoftheeveninginherroomstudying.Ellie'sfirstwinterbreakwasuneventful,andwhenshereturnedtoherdormonthedaybeforeclassesstartedshewassurprisedtofindasmallnotetapedtoherdoor."Thankyou,"thenotesaid.Itwassigned"Susan."ItwasdatedthedaythatElliehadleftafterfinals.Elliewastotallyperplexed.Shedidn'tknowaSusan.Convincedthattheletterhadbeendeliveredtoherbymistake,Ellieputthenoteonherdeskandforgotaboutit.

Aboutahalfanhourbeforeshewasgettingreadytoheadoutfordinner,therewasaknockatEllie'sdoor.There,standinginthehallwasawomanElliedidn'trecognize."I'mSusan,"shesaid."Iwantedtothankyouinpersonbutyou'dalreadyleftbeforeIfinishedmyfinals.""Areyousureit'smeyou'relookingfor?"askedEllie.Susanaskedifshecouldcomeinandexplain.ItseemedthatSusanhadbeenfacingthesamedilemmathatElliehadbeenthatfirstnightofChanukah.Shereallydidn'twanttolighthermenoraheither.Notbecauseshewaspacking,orwasheadinghome,couldn'tfindthecandlesorbecauseshebusystudyingbutbecauseheroldersisterHannahhadbeenkilledbyadrunkdrivertenmonthsearlier,andthiswasthefirstyearthatshe'dhavetolightthemenorahcandlesalone.Thesistershadalwaystakenturnslightingthefirstcandleandthiswasn'tSusan'syear.Shejustcouldn'tbringherselftotak

ehersister'splace.SusansaidthatwheneveritwasHannah'sturntolightthefirstcandle,she'dalwaysteaseSusanthatthecandlesshelitwouldburnlongerandbrighterthanwhenSusanlitthem.Oneyearsheevenwentsofarastogetatimerout.IthadalwaysannoyedSusanthatHannahwouldsaysomethingsostupidbutstill,itwaspartofthefamilytradition.SusansaidthatitwasjusttoopainfultoeventhinkaboutChanukahwithoutHannahandshehaddecidedonskippingtheentireholiday.SusansaidthatshehadjustfinishedstudyingandwasclosingherdrapeswhenshehappenedtoglanceacrossthecourtyardofthequadandsawthecandlesshininginEllie'swindow."IsawthatmenorahinyourwindowandIstartedtocry.ItwasifHannahhadtakenherturnandputthemenorahinyourwindowformetosee."Susansaidthatwhenshestoppedcryingshesaidtheblessings,turnedoffthelightsinherroomandwatchedthecandlesacrossthequaduntiltheyburne

dout.SusantoldElliethatitwasasshewaslyinginbedthatnightthinkingabouthowcloseshefelttoHannahwhenshesawthemenorah,thatitdawnedonherthatHannahhadbeenright.Hannah'slastturnalwayswouldhavecandlesthatwouldburnlongerandbrighterthananyofSusan'sbecauseforSusan,Hannah'slightswouldnevergoout.Theywouldalwaysbethere,inherheartforSusantoseewhensheneededtoreconnectwithHannah.AllSusanhadtodowasclosehereyesandrememberthecandlesinthewindow,theone'sthatHannahhadlitthelasttimeitwasherturn.

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SilentAngelByDuaneShaw

ChristmasDay,1967.I'mapatientattheNinety-ThirdMedicalEvacuationHospitalnearSaigon,Vietnam.TodayI'msemi-alert,butunabletosleepandagonizinglyscared.Theconstantachingpaininmyarmsandapoundingheadachemakemetense.Ifeelhelpless.Myspiritfeelsempty,andmybodyfeelsbroken.Iwanttobebackhome.It'simpossibletogetinacomfortablerestingposition.I'mforcedtotryandsleeponmyback.Needles,IVtubingandsurgicaltapearepartiallycoveredbybloodstainedbandagesonmyarms.Twodaysearlier,mysquad'smissionwastosecuretheperimeterofSaigonforaChristmasDaycelebrationfeaturingBobHopeandHollywood'sRaquelWelch.Whileonasearch-and-destroypatrol,nearthevillageDiAn,wewereambushedonajungletrailbyasmallbandofVietcongguerillas.MyrightthumbwasrippedfrommybodybyAK-47assault-riflefireandfragmentsfromaclaymoreminegrazedmyfaceandneck.Thismedicalwardhastwenty-onesickandinjuredGIs,andonerecentlycaptured,young-lookingCambodian.Restrained,helaysseverelywoundedinthebednexttomine.I'mfilledwithangerandhostility.Asaninfantrycombatveteran,I'vebeenbrainwashedtodespisetheCommunistsandeverythingtheyrepresent.Thefirsthoursareemotionallydifficult.Idon'twanttobenexttohim.Iwan

ttohaveanAmericanGItotalkwith.Astimepassesmyattitudechanges;myhatredvanishes.Weneverutterawordtoeachother,butweglanceintooneanother'seyesandsmile.We'recommunicating.Ifeelcompassionforhim,knowingbothofushavelostcontrolofourdestiny.Weareequals.Thesurvivalofthetwenty-twosoldiersinthewardisdependentontheattentivenessandmedicalcarefromournurses.Apparently,theyneverleaveourwardortaketimeoff.Thenationality,countryorcauseweeeerefightingforneverinterfereswiththelovingcareandnourishmentnecessarytosustainus.Theyareourlife-keepers,ourguardians,oursafetynet,ourhopeofreturninghome.It'snicetojusthearawoman'svoice.Theirpresenceisourmotivationtogetwellsowecangohometoourwives,children,moms,dads,brothers,sistersandfriends.Christmasisaspecialday,eveninahospitalbedthousandsofmilesfromhome.

Todaythenursesareespeciallylovingandgracious.RedCrossvolunteershelpuswriteletterstoourfamilies.Allofusstillneedspecialattentionplusourroutineshots,IVs,bloodworkandIswallowtwenty-twopillsthreetimesaday.EvenonChristmas,lifegoesoninourlittlecommunity,likeclockwork,thankstothededicationofournurses.Theynevermissabeat,alwaysfriendlyandcaring.There'sarumorthatGeneralWestmorlandandRaquelWelchwillvisitourwardtodayandawardPurpleHeartstothecombatwounded.I'mespeciallyhopefulit'struebecauseIwouldreceivethecommendation.ThethoughtofmeetingRaquelWelchandGeneralWestmorelandgivesmeanadrenalineboostthatlaststhroughouttheday.Byearlyeveningwerealizetheyaren'tcoming.Everyoneisverydisappointed,especiallyme.Theday'sactivitiesceasequicklyafterayummyChristmasdinner

andmostofmywardmatesslipofftosleepbysevenoreighto'clock.It'simpossibletosleep.TheIVsinmyarmscontinuecollapsingmyveinsonebyone.I'mprickedandprobedbywhatfeelslikeknives,notneedles.MyarmsareblackandblueaftermanyfailedattemptstolocateaveinforIVfluids.Ioccasionallydozeoff,onlytobeawakenedbytheagonizingpainofanothercollapsedveinandinfiltratingfluids.Myarmsareswollentotwicetheirnormalsize.Thispainisworsethanmygunshotwound.It's11o'clockChristmasnight.Thewardissilent.MycomradesandtheCambodianwarriorsleep.I'mtenseandsuffering.Toavoidwakinganyone,Isilentlysignalanurse.Shecomestomysideandgaze

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sintomytearingeyes.Quietly,shesitsonthesideofmybed,embracesmyarm,removestheIV,thenlightlymassagesmyswollen,painfularms.Gently,sheleansoverandwhispersinmyear,"MerryChristmas,"andgivesmealong,tenderhug.Asshewithdraws,oureyesconnectmomentarily.Shehastearsrunningdownhercheeks.Shefeltmypain.Sheturnsandmovesaway,eversoslowlybacktoherworkstation.ThenextmorningIwakeslowly.Ihavesleptthroughoutthenightandfeelrested.IseewhileIsleptanewIVwasinsertedinmyarm.Theswellingisgone.Suddenly,IrememberthenursecomingtomysideinthenightandmyChristmaspresent.I'mthankfulandthinkofherkindness.Ilooktowardsthenurses'workstationtoseeifIcanseemyangelnursebutshe'sgone.Ineverseeheragain,butIwillforeverhonorhercompassiontowardmeonthatlonelyChristmasnight.

BigRedByLindaGabris

Thefirsttimeweseteyeson"BigRed,"father,motherandIweretrudgingthroughthefreshlyfallensnowonourwaytoHubble'sHardwarestoreonMainStreetinHuntsville,Ontario.WeplannedtoenterournameintheannualChristmasdrawingforachancetowinahamperfilledwithfancytinnedcookies,tea,fruitandcandy.AswepassedtheEaton'sDepartmentstore'swindow,westoppedasusualtogaze,anddoourbitofdreaming.

Thegailydecoratedwindowdisplayheldthebesttoysever.Itookaninstanthankeringforahugegreenwagon.Itwasbigenoughtohaulthreearmloadsoffirewood,twobucketsofswillorawholesummer'sworthofpopbottlespickedfromalongthehighway.TherewereskatesthatwouldmakeMillar'sPondwellworthshovelinganddollsmuchtooprettytoplaywith.AndtheywereallnestledsnuglybeneaththebreathtakinglyflouncedskirtofBigRed.Mother'seyesweregluedtothemassiveflareofredshimmeringsatin,dottedwithtwinklingsequin-centeredblackvelvetstars."Mygoodness,"shemanagedtosayintrancelikewonder."Wouldyoujustlookatthatdress!"Then,totallyoutofcharacter,mothertwirledonespinofawaltzontheslipperysidewalk.Beneaththeheavy,wooden-buttoned,greywoolcoatshehadworneverywinterforaslongasIcouldremember,motherlostherbalanceandtumbled.Fatherquicklycaughther.

Hercheeksredderthanusual,motherswatteddadforlaughing."Oh,stopthat!"sheordered,shooinghisflutteringhandsashesweptthesnowfromhercoat."WhatasillydresstobeperchedupthereinthewindowofEaton's!"sheshookherheadindisgust."Whoonearthwouldwantsuchasplashydress?"Aswecontinueddownthestreet,motherturnedbackforonemorelook."Mygoodness!You'dthinkthey'ddisplaysomethingapersoncoulduse!"Christmaswasnearingandthereddresswassoonforgotten.Mother,ofallpeople,wasnotonetowishfor,orspendmoneyon,itemsthatwerenotpractical."Therearethingsweneedmorethanthis,"she'dalwayssay,or,"Therearethingsweneedmorethanthat."Father,ontheotherhand,likedtoindulgewheneverthebudgetallowed.Ofcourse,he'dgetascoldingforhisoccasionalsplurging,butitwasalldonewiththebestintention.

Likethetimehebroughthometheelectricrange.InouroldMuskokafarmhouseonOxtongueLake,Motherwasstillcookingyear-roundonawoodstove.Inthesummer,thekitchenwouldbesohoteventhehouseflieswouldn'tcomeinside.YettherewouldbeMother-roasting-rightalongwiththeporkandturnips.Oneday,Dadsurprisedherwithafancynewelectricrange.Sheprotested,ofcourse,sayingthatthewoodstovecookedjustdandy,thattheelectricstovewastoodearandthatitwouldcosttoomuchhydrotorunit.Allthewhile,however,shewaspolishingitsalreadyshinychromeknobs.Inspiteofherobjections,DadandIknewthatshecherishedthatnewstove.Thereweremanyothermodernthingsthatoldfarmneeded,likeindoorplumbinga

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ndaclothesdryer,butMominsistedthatthosethingswouldhavetowaituntilwecouldaffordthem.Momwasforeverdoingchores-washinglaundrybyhand,tendingthepigs,orworkinginourhugegarden-soshealwaysworemended,cotton-printhousedressesandanaprontoprotectthefront.Shedidhaveoneortwo"special"dressessavedforChurchonSundays.Andamongsteverythingelseshedid,shestillmanagedtomakealmostallofourclothes.Theyweren'tfancy,buttheydidwearwell.ThatChristmasIboughtDadahandfuloffishingluresfromtheFivetoaDollarstore,wrappedthemindividuallyinmatchboxessohe'dhaveplentyofgiftstoopenfromme.ChoosingsomethingforMotherwasmuchharder.WhenDadandIasked,shethoughtcarefullythenhintedmodestlyforsometeatowels,faceclothesoranewdishpan.OnourlasttriptotownbeforeChristmas,weweredrivingupMainStreetwhenmothersuddenlyexclaimedinsurprise:"Wouldyoujustlookatthat!"ShepointedexcitedlyasDaddrovepastEaton's."Thatbigreddressisgone,"shesaidindisbelief."It'sactuallygone.""Well...I'llbe!"Dadchuckled."Bygolly,itis!""Who'dbefoolenoughtobuysuchafrivolousdress?"Motherquestioned,shakingherhead.IquicklystoleaglanceatDad.Hisblueeyesweretwinklingashenudgedmewithhiselbow.Mothercranedherneckforanotherglimpseouttherearwindowaswerodeonupthestreet."It'sgone..."shewhispered.IwasalmostcertainthatIdetectedatraceofyearninginhervoice.I'llneverforgetthatChristmasmorning.IwatchedasMotherpeeledthetissuepaperoffalargeboxthatread,"Eaton'sFinestEnamelDishpan"onitslid.

"OhFrank,"shepraised,"justwhatIwanted!"Dadwassittinginhisrocker,ahugegrinonhisface."Onlyafoolwouldn'tgiveapricelesswifelikemineexactlywhatshewantsforChristmas,"helaughed."Goahead,openitupandmakesuretherearenochips."Dadwinkedatme,confirminghissecret,andmyheartfilledwithmoreloveformyfatherthanIthoughtitcouldhold!Motheropenedtheboxtofindabigwhiteenameldishpan-overflowingwithcrimsonsatinthatspilledoutacrossherlap.WithtremblinghandsshetouchedtheelegantmaterialofBigRed."Ohmygoodness!"shemanagedtoutter,hereyesfilledwithtears."OhFrank..."Herfacewasasbrightasthestarthattwinkledonourtreeinthecornerofthesmallroom."Youshouldn'thave..."cameherfaintattemptatscolding."Ohnow,nevermindthat!"Dadsaid."Let'sseeifitfits,"helaughed,helping

herslipthemarvelousdressoverhershoulders.Astheshimmeringredsatinfellaroundher,itgracefullyhidthepatchedandfadedfloralhousedressunderneath.Iwatched,mymouthagape,captivatedbyaradianceinmyparentsIhadnevernoticedbefore.Astheywaltzedaroundtheroom,BigRedswirleditsmagicdeepintomyheart."Youlookbeautiful,"mydadwhisperedtomymom-andshesurelydid!

RiverBaptismByGarthGilchrist

ThesummerIturnedthirteen,myfamily'ssummervacationwasavisittoourrelativesinthemountainsofNorthCarolina.MycousinJim,whowasmyage,tookmedowntohisfavoriteswimmingholealongtheriver.Itwasadeeppoolunderahighcanopyofleaves.Fromthetopofatwenty-five-footcliffwelookeddownintotheshimmeringwaterandacrosstoasandybeach.Standingbesideusontheedgeofthatcliffgrewabigwhiteoaktree,withitsrootssunkdeepdownintotherock.Andhangingfromalimbthatstretchedoutatjusttherightheightandangle,wasaropeswing."Lookhere,"saidJim."Thisisthewayyoudoit.Yougottogetarunningstart.Thenyougrabtheropeandswingoutandupashighasyoucan,andthenyou

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letgoandfalltothewater.Here,I'llshowyou."Jimmadeitlookeasy,andwhenhisheadsurfacedinthebubblingwaterheholleredup,"Nowit'syourturn!"IwascertainIwasgoingtodie,butatthirteendyingisbetterthanlookingbad.WhenIcameupsputtering,Jimsmiledapprovinglyandweswamafewstrokestothebeach,layonthehotsandforawhile,andthenswambackacrossthepooltodoitagain.JimandallofhisfriendsalwaysworetheproperNorthCarolinaswimmingattire,forskinny-dippingwasatimehonoredtraditionamongboysthroughoutthemountainstates.SometimesIfeltlikeIwasawildboy,orabeaverslidingthroughthewater.Jimsaidhefeltlikeanotter,sincehelovedtoturnandtwistinthedeeppoolsandcouldswimunderwateralongways.Jim'sfamilywasBaptists.OnSunday,Jim'smommadeusdressupinstraight-jacketwhiteshirtsandstrangle-holdties,marchedusdownthestreetandfiledusintochurch."Youmustbebaptized,bywaterandbytheSpirit"thepreacherthundered.Thatwaterbaptismsoundedmightygood.IsattheredreamingoftheriverandwaitingforthewonderfulmomentwhenthesermonwouldbeoverandJimandIcouldgorunningdownthepathtotheriver.Onthetailsoftheclosingprayer,JimandIflewoutintothesunnydayandhomeforaquicksandwich.Thenweplungeddownthetrailintothewoodsalivewiththehumofcicadashangingthickinthebranchesoftheburroaksandhickories.Whenwegotwithinahundredyardsoftheropeswing,Jimsaid,"I'llraceyou!"

"Yougotit!"Ireplied.Wedroppedourclothesrightthereandtoredownthetrailtoseewhocouldgettotheropeswingfirst.Iwasafastrunner,butJimwasfaster.Hepulledaheadofmeanddovefortherope.Withashriekofvictory,Jimswungoutoverthewaterandup,totheverytopofthearc.Inperfectform,Jimletgooftheropeandlookeddowntoseewherehewasgoingtoland.Butthere-nottwentyyardsawayonthebeach-stoodthepreacherandtwodozenofthefaithful,performingabaptism.IcouldseetheywerelookingstraightupatJimwiththeirmouthswideopen.AsferventlyasJimprayedtofly,hequicklydescendedfromtheheavens.Jimabandonedhisplansforagracefulswandiveandinstinctivelyassumedthecannonballposition-knownforitsmagnificentsplash.

Thewholecongregationgotbaptizedthatday.ButJimneversawit.Hebrokehisrecordforunderwaterswimmingandwasaroundthebendandoutofsightwhilethecongregationstoodstunnedandspeechlessontheshore."Don'tworry,Jim,"Iconsoledhimlater."I'msureeverybodythoughtyouwereanangel,andbesides,itturnedoutfine.Yougottheriverdunkingyouwanted,andthosefolkswillneverforgetthatbaptism."Thinkingaboutitnow,Idon'tthinkthere'smuchdifference,anyway,betweenwildboysandangels,orbetweenheavenandaropeswingontheriver.

TheGreatestofTheseByNanetteThorsen-Snipes

MydaybeganonadecidedlysournotewhenIsawmysix-year-oldwrestlingwithalimbofmyazaleabush.BythetimeIgotoutside,he'dbrokenit."CanItakethistoschooltoday?"heasked.Withawaveofmyhand,Isenthimoff.Iturnedmybacksohewouldn'tseethetearsgatheringinmyeyes.Ilovedthatazaleabush.Itouchedthebrokenlimbasiftosaysilently,"I'msorry."IwishedIcouldhavesaidthattomyhusbandearlier,butI'dbeenangry.Thewashingmachinehadleakedonmybrand-newlinoleum.Ifhe'djusttakenthetimetofixitthenightbeforewhenIaskedhiminsteadofplayingcheckerswithJon

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athan.Whatarehisprioritiesanyway?Iwondered.IwasstillmoppingupthemesswhenJonathanwalkedintothekitchen."What'sforbreakfast,Mom?"Iopenedtheemptyrefrigerator."Notcereal,"Isaid,watchingthesidesofhismouthdrop."Howabouttoastandjelly?"Ismearedthetoastwithjellyandsetitinfrontofhim.WhywasIsoangry?Itossedmyhusband'sdishesintothesudsywater.Itwasdayslikethisthatmademewanttoquit.Ijustwantedtodriveuptothemountains,hideinacave,andnevercomeout.SomehowImanagedtolugthewetclothestothelaundromat.Ispentmostofthedaywashinganddryingclothesandthinkinghowlovehaddisappearedfrommylife.Staringatthegraffitionthewalls,Ifeltaswrung-outastheclothesleftinthewashers.AsIfinishedhangingupthelastofmyhusband'sshirts,Ilookedattheclock.2:30.Iwaslate.Jonathan'sclassletoutat2:15.Idumpedtheclothesinthebackseatandhurriedlydrovetotheschool.IwasoutofbreathbythetimeIknockedontheteacher'sdoorandpeeredthroughtheglass.Withonefinger,shemotionedformetowait.ShesaidsomethingtoJonathanandhandedhimandtwootherchildrencrayonsandasheetofpaper.Whatnow?Ithought,assherustledthroughthedoorandtookmeaside."IwanttotalktoyouaboutJonathan,"shesaid.Ipreparedmyselffortheworst.Nothingwouldhavesurprisedme."DidyouknowJonathanbroughtflowerstoschooltoday?"sheasked.Inodded,thinkingaboutmyfavoritebushandtryingtohidethehurtinmyeyes.Iglancedatmysonbusilycoloringapicture.Hiswavyhairwastoolongand

floppedjustbeneathhisbrow.Hebrusheditawaywiththebackofhishand.Hiseyesburstwithblueasheadmiredhishandiwork."Letmetellyouaboutyesterday,"theteacherinsisted."Seethatlittlegirl?"Iwatchedthebright-eyedchildlaughandpointtoacolorfulpicturetapedtothewall.Inodded."Well,yesterdayshewasalmosthysterical.Hermotherandfatheraregoingthroughanastydivorce.Shetoldmeshedidn'twanttolive,shewishedshecoulddie.Iwatchedthatlittlegirlburyherfaceinherhandsandsayloudenoughfortheclasstohear,'Nobodylovesme.'IdidallIcouldtoconsoleher,butitonlyseemedtomakemattersworse.""IthoughtyouwantedtotalktomeaboutJonathan,"Isaid."Ido,"shesaid,touchingthesleeveofmyblouse."Todayyoursonwalkedstrai

ghtovertothatchild.Iwatchedhimhandhersomeprettypinkflowersandwhisper,'Iloveyou.'"Ifeltmyheartswellwithprideforwhatmysonhaddone.Ismiledattheteacher."Thankyou,"Isaid,reachingforJonathan'shand,"you'vemademyday."Laterthatevening,Ibeganpullingweedsfromaroundmylopsidedazaleabush.AsmymindwanderedbacktotheloveJonathanshowedthelittlegirl,abiblicalversecametome:"...thesethreeremain:faith,hopeandlove.Butthegreatestoftheseislove."Whilemysonhadputloveintopractice,Ihadonlyfeltanger.Iheardthefamiliarsqueakofmyhusband'sbrakesashepulledintothedrive.Isnappedasmalllimbbristlingwithhotpinkazaleasoffthebush.IfelttheseedoflovethatGodplantedinmyfamilybeginningtobloomonceagaininme.Myhusband'seyeswidenedinsurpriseasIhandedhimtheflowers."Iloveyou,"

Isaid.

TheMarksofLifeByDianaGolden

MyteammatesontheUnitedStatesDisabledSkiTeamusedtoteasemeaboutthesizeofmychest,jokingthatmygreatesthandicapwasn'tmymissinglegbutmymissingcleavage.Littledidtheyknowhowtruethatwouldbecome.Thispastyear

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,IfoundoutthatforthesecondtimeinmylifeIhadcancer,thistimeinbothbreasts.Ihadbilateralmastectomies.WhenIheardI'dneedthesurgery,Ididn'tthinkitwouldbeabigdeal.Ieventoldmyfriendsplayfully,"I'llkeepyouabreastofthesituation."Afterall,Ihadlostmylegtomyfirstgo-roundwithcanceratage12,thengoneontobecomeaworld-championskiracer.AllofusontheDisabledSkiTeamweremissingonesetofbodypartsoranother.Isawthatamaninawheelchaircanbeutterlysexy.Thatawomanwhohasnohandscanappearnottobemissinganything.Thatwholenesshasnothingtodowithmissingpartsandeverythingtodowithspirit.YetalthoughIknewthis,Iwassurprisedtodiscoverhowdifficultitwastoadjusttomynewscars.Whentheybroughtmebacktoconsciousnessafterthesurgery,Istartedtosobandhyperventilate.SuddenlyIfoundthatIdidn'twanttofacethelossofmoreofmybody.Ididn'twantchemotherapyagain.Ididn'twanttobebraveandtoughandputonaperpetualsmilingface.Ididn'teverwanttowakeupagain.Mybreathinggrewsoshakythattheanesthesiologistgavemeoxygenandthen,thankfully,putmebacktosleep.WhenIwasdoinghillsprintstoprepareformyskiracing-myheartandlungsandlegmusclesallonfire-I'doftenbehitbythesensationthattherewerenoresourcesleftinsidemewithwhichtokeepgoing.ThenI'dthinkabouttheracesahead-mydreamofpushingmypotentialasfarasitcouldgo,thesatisfactionofbreakingthroughmyownbarriers-andthatwouldgetmethroughthesprints.Thesametenacitythatservedmesowellinskiracinghelpedmesurvivemysecondboutwithcancer.

Afterthemastectomies,Iknewthatonewaytogetmyselfgoingwouldbetostartexercisingagain,soIheadedforthelocalpool.Inthecommunalshower,Ifoundmyselfnoticingotherwomen'sbreastsforthefirsttimeinmylife.Size-Dbreastsandsize-Abreasts,saggingbreastsandperkybreasts.Suddenlyandforthefirsttime,afteralltheseyearsofmissingaleg,Ifeltacutelyself-conscious.Icouldn'tbringmyselftoundress.Idecideditwastimetoconfrontmyself.Thatnightathome,Itookoffallmyclothesandhadalonglookatthewomaninthemirror.Shewasandrogynous.Takemyface-withoutmakeup,itwasacuteyoungboy'sface.Myshouldermuscles,armsandhandswerepowerfulandmuscularfromthecrutches.Ihadnobreasts;instead,thereweretwoprominentscarsonmychest.Ihadasexyflatstomach,abubblebuttandawell-developedthighfromyearsofskiracing.Myrightlegendedinanotherlongscarjustabovetheknee.

IdiscoveredthatIlikedmyandrogynousbody.Itfitmypersonality-myaggressivemalesidethatlovesgettingdressedinahelmet,armguardsandshinprotectorstodobattlewiththeslalomgates,andmygentlefemalesidethatlongstohavechildrenonedayandwantstodressupinabeautifulsilkdress,goouttodinnerwithaloverandthenliebackandbeslowlyundressedbyhim.Ifoundthatthescarsonmychestandmylegwereabigdeal.Theyweremymarksoflife.Allofusarescarredbylife;it'sjustthatsomeofthosescarsshowmoreclearlythanothers.Ourscarsdomatter.Theytellusthatwehavelived,thatwehaven'thiddenfromlife.Whenweseeourscarsplainly,wecanfindinthem,asIdidthatday,ourownuniquebeauty.ThenexttimeIwenttothepoolIshowerednaked.

BurrovilleByJohnSoennichsen

Backin1974,whenIwasinmyearlytwenties,IbefriendedagroupofhikerswhoweremappingadeserttrailfromtheMexicantotheCanadianborder.OfferingtotryafewroutesforthemthroughDeathValley,Imadethedrivetoabaseca

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mpnearUlidaFlat,whereIcampedforthenight.Atfirstlight,IstartedmytrekupanalluvialfanintoanunnamedcanyonintheCottonwoodMountains.Afteraboutanhourofhikingthroughtherock-strewnwash,ImademywaydeeperintotheshadowsandthebrayofaburrotoldmeIwasn'talone.Withslow,carefulsteps,IroundedabendandfoundmyselfinBurroville-Population:100.Ilookedaroundandsawthatthemajoritystoodinlittlegroupsalongtheslopeswhileseveralotherswereperchedatoptheperpendicularcliffwalls.Icontinuedwalkingandwassoonmetbyanimposingwelcomingcommittee-adozenbigJackswithmassiveheads,standingshouldertoshoulderanddaringmetoapproach.Thoughtheystoodagoodthirtyfeetaway,theirresolutestanceandeffectiveblockadeofthecanyonaheadmademepauseawhiletoconsidermynextmove.I'dneverheardofanyonebeingkilledbyaburro,butitwascleartheyhadnoplanstoletmepass.SeveralmomentswentbyuntiloneofthebigJackspawedatthegroundwithhishoovesandanotherlookedbehindhim,asiftochecktherearforasurpriseattack.That'swhenIsawwhattheburrowasactuallylookingat-aJennyandnursingfoalstandingclosebesidethecanyonwallabouttwentyfeetback.Oureyesmetandthefemale'sflanksshudderedasshewatchedmewithawarinessthatonlyatruewildthingcandisplay.WhenIliftedmygazetoscantheslopesbehindher,Iwassurprisedtoseeotherfemalesandtheiryoung,plantedingroupsoftwoandthreeallaroundme.SuddenlyIrealizeditwasthetimeofyearforfoalstodrop,andthebigmalesweremerelyprotectingtheirmatesandbabies.Imusthaveletoutabigsigh,bec

auseoneofthemprickeduphisearsandraisedhisheadasifwaitingformetospeak."Don'tworry,guys,I'mjustpassingthrough,"Icalledgently.Noresponse,justaflutterofflanksandafeweartwitches.Clearly,thesubtleapproachwasn'tworking,soIpickeduparockandlobbeditnearthebiggestJack.Itfellathisfeetandheloweredhisheadtosniffit.Clearlytheburrohadnointentionofmoving,soIreluctantlyturnedandbegantomakemywaybackdownthewashindefeat.Thatwaswhenaloudbraymademeabout-faceoncemore.Tomysurprise,thebigjackswerelumberingoutofthewashandmakingtheirwaytowardthenorthernwallsofthecanyon.Now,onlythebiggestofthemremainedattheedgeofthebank,staringatme.Suddenly,thewaywasclear;I'dwonthestandoff.Istartedupthecanyonbutwasstoppedbythelookintheburro's

greatbrowneyes.Aswestoodtherestaringateachother,ashudderpassedthroughme.Inthatinstantthemessagehesentmebecameclear:hewasaskingmetoleavethecanyon.Politely,andwithsomemeasureofsupplication,butplainasday.AndIknewthenIcouldn'tgoon,couldn'tviolatehistrust.SoIturnedandheadedbackdownthecanyon.AsIretreated,Iconsideredmyroleincreatingadeserttrailthathundredsofhikerswouldtraverseeachyear.Today'sunknownroutethrougharuggedcanyonmightwellbecomeadottedredlineonsomefuturemap.Wasitsoimportantthatpeopleknewaboutthisplace?Ibegantothinkitwasn't.Maybewhatthisearthreallyneededwasafewmoreunnamedcanyons.Maybethere'ssomeintrinsicvalueinknowingthatsomemountainswillneverbeclimbed,thatahandfulofjungleswillremainunexplored.Mustwereallyclamberupeverya

lluvialfan,mapeverydesertcanyon,andslapanameoneverydrylakeandrockyoutcropping?Perhaps,intheend,it'senoughjustknowingthey'reouttheresomewhere.

TheDiaryByMartineKlaassen

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Armedwithtwoover-packedsuitcases,wearrivedattheairportjustintimeformyflight."Well,hereweare,theairport,"mysistersaidwithasigh.AsIwatchedherunloadmyluggage,Icouldseethesadnessinhereyes.Thiswasnoteasyonhereither.Wehadbothbeendreadingthismomentforthepastweek.Onelasthugandafinalgood-byeandIwouldbeonmywaytoanewlifeabroad,leavingmybelovedsisterbehind.AllmylifeIhadlovedairports.Tometheyweresomekindofmagicgatewaytotheworld,aplacefromwhichtostartgreatholidaysandadventures.Buttodayitseemedlikeacoldandheartlessplace.Aswemadeourwaytothegatewepassedthroughabusloadoffrustratedholidaygoersandtheirscreamingchildren.Ilookedatmysisterandeventhoughhereyeswerefilledwithtears,shewastryingtokeepabraveface."Youbettergooryou'llmissyourflight,"shesaid."Iamjustgoingtowalkawayandnotlookback,"Isaid,"thatwouldjustbetoohard."AsIheldheronelasttimeshewhispered,"Don'tworryaboutme,I'llbejustfine.""I'llmissyou,"Ireplied,andwiththoselastwordsIwasoff.Aspromised,Ididnotlookback,butbythetimeIreachedthecustom'sofficeIwassobbing."Cheerup,love,"thetallcustomsofficersaidwithasmile."It'snottheendoftheworld,youknow."Buttomeitwastheendoftheworld,asIhadknownit.WhileboardingtheplaneIwasstillcrying.Ididnothavetheenergytoputmy

bagintheoverheadlocker,soIstuffeditontheemptyseatnexttomine.AsIsettledintomychair,afeelingofsadnessoverwhelmedme.Ifeltlikemybestfriendhadjustbeentakenawayfromme.Growingup,mysisterandIwoulddoeverythingtogether.Bornbarelyfifteenmonthsapartwenotonlylookedalike,wewerealike.Webothhadthatsamemixofcuriosityandfearofallthingsunknowntous.OnesunnysummerdayIwasplayingoutsideonthegrasswhenshecameuptomeandsaid,"Wanttocometotheattic?"Webothknewthattheanswertothatquestionwasalways'Yes.'Wewerefrightenedoftheatticbutalsofascinatedbyitssmellsandsounds.Wheneveroneofusneededsomething,theotheronewouldcomealong.Togetherwewouldfightthelife-sizespidersandbattlethroughthenumerousboxesuntilwefoundwhatweneeded.Overtimethevisitstotheatticbecamelessscary.Eventuallytherecameatim

ewhenwewouldgobyourselves,butmysisterandIstayedascloseasever.Whenthetimecameforustogotocollege,whatbetterwaythanforustogotogether.Myparentswerepleasedbecausethatwaywecould'keepaneyeoneachother'andofcoursereportbackonwhattheotheronewasupto.ButnowthatourcollegedayswereoverandIwasofftoaforeigncountry,allIhadleftweremymemories.TheplaneshookheavilyandthebagthatIhadshovedontotheseatnexttomefellonthefloor.Myaspirin,hairbrushandacopyofthebookIplannedtoreadwerespreadonthefloor.IbentovertogatherthemupwhenIsawanunfamiliarlittlebookinthemiddleofmybelongings.ItwasnotuntilIpickeditupthatIrealizedthatitwasadiary.ThekeyhadbeencarefullyplacedinthelocksoIopenedit.ImmediatelyIrecognizedmysister'shandwriting."HiSis,Whatadayithasbee

ntoday.Firstyouletmeknowthatyouaremovingabroadandthenmyboss..."OnlythendidIrealizethatmysisterhadbeenkeepingadiaryforthepastmonthandthatshewasnowpassingitontome.Shehadbeenschemingtostartthediaryforthepastyearbutnowthetimeseemedright.Iwastowriteinitforthenextcoupleofmonthsandthensenditbacktoher.Ispenttherestoftheflightreadingaboutmysister'scomingsandgoings.Andeventhoughalargeoceanseparatedus,atsomepointitfeltlikeshewasactuallythere.ItwasonlywhenIthoughtthatIhadlostmybestfriendthatIrealizedthatshewasgoingtobearoundforever.

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Ramona'sTouchByBettyAboussieEllis

Itwasonlyafewweeksaftermysurgery,andIwenttoDr.Belt'sofficeforacheckup.Itwasjustaftermyfirstchemotherapytreatment.Myscarwasstillverytender.Myarmwasnumbunderneath.Thiswholesetofuniqueandweirdsensationswaslikehavinganewroommatetosharethetwo-bedroomapartmentformerlyknownasmybreasts-nowlovinglyknownas"thebreastandthechest."Asusual,Iwastakentoanexaminationroomtohavemyblooddrawn,again-aterrifyingprocessforme,sinceI'msofrightenedofneedles.Ilaydownontheexaminingtable.I'dwornabigplaidflannelshirtandacamisoleunderneath.ItwasacarefullythoughtoutcostumethatIhopedotherswouldregardasacasualwardrobechoice.Theplaidcamouflagedmynewchest,thecamisoleprotecteditandthebuttonsontheshirtmadeforeasymedicalaccess.Ramonaenteredtheroom.Herwarmsparklingsmilewasfamiliar,andstoodoutincontrasttomyfears.I'dfirstseenherintheofficeafewweeksearlier.Shewasn'tmynurseonthatday,butIrememberherbecauseshewaslaughing.Shelaughedindeep,roundandrichtones.Irememberwonderingwhatcouldbesofunnybehindthatmedicaldoor.Whatcouldshepossiblyfindtolaughaboutatatim

elikethis?SoIdecidedshewasn'tseriousenoughaboutthewholethingandthatIwouldtrytofindanursewhowas.ButIwaswrong.Thisdaywasdifferent.Ramonahadtakenmybloodbefore.Sheknewaboutmyfearofneedles,andshekindlyhidtheparaphernaliaunderamagazinewithabrightbluepictureofakitchenbeingremodeled.Asweopenedtheblouseanddroppedthecamisole,thecatheteronmybreastwasexposedandthefreshscaronmychestcouldbeseen.Shesaid,"Howisyourscarhealing?"Isaid,"Ithinkprettywell.Iwasharounditgentlyeachday."Thememoryoftheshowerwaterhittingmynumbchestflashedacrossmyface.Shegentlyreachedoverandranherhandacrossthescar,examiningthesmoothnessofthehealingskinandlookingforanyirregularities.Ibegantocrygentlyandquietly.Shebroughtherwarmeyestomineandsaid,"Youhaven'ttouchedi

tyet,haveyou?"AndIsaid,"No."Sothiswonderful,warmwomanlaidthepalmofhergoldenbrownhandonmypalechestandshegentlyhelditthere.Foralongtime.Icontinuedtocryquietly.Insofttonesshesaid,"Thisispartofyourbody.Thisisyou.It'sokaytotouchit."ButIcouldn't.Soshetoucheditforme.Thescar.Thehealingwound.Andbeneathit,shetouchedmyheart.ThenRamonasaid,"I'llholdyourhandwhileyoutouchit."Sosheplacedherhandnexttomine,andwebothwerequiet.ThatwasthegiftthatRamonagaveme.ThatnightasIlaydowntosleep,IgentlyplacedmyhandonmychestandIleftitthereuntilIdozedoff.IknewIwasn'talone.Wewereallinbedtogether,metaphoricallyspeaking,mybreast,mychest,Ramona'sgiftandme.

AsaManSowethByMikeBuetelle

WhenIwasinjuniorhigh,theeighth-gradebullypunchedmeinthestomach.Notonlydidithurtandmakemeangry,buttheembarrassmentandhumiliationwerealmostintolerable.Iwanteddesperatelytoeventhescore!Iplannedtomeethimbythebikeracksthenextdayandlethimhaveit.

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Forsomereason,ItoldmyplantoNana,mygrandmother-bigmistake.Shegavemeoneofherhour-longlectures(thatwomancouldreallytalk).Thelecturewasatotaldrag,butamongotherthings,IvaguelyrememberhertellingmethatIdidn'tneedtoworryabouthim.Shesaid,"Gooddeedsbegetgoodresults,andevildeedsbegetbadresults."Itoldher,inaniceway,ofcourse,thatIthoughtshewasfullofit.ItoldherthatIdidgoodthingsallthetime,andallIgotinreturnwas"baloney!"(Ididn'tusethatword.)Shestucktoherguns,though.Shesaid,"Everygooddeedwillcomebacktoyousomeday,andeverybadthingyoudowillcomebacktoyou."Ittookme30yearstounderstandthewisdomofherwords.Nanawaslivinginaboard-and-carehomeinLagunaHills,California.EachTuesday,Icamebyandtookherouttodinner.Iwouldalwaysfindherneatlydressedsittinginachairrightbythefrontdoor.Ivividlyrememberourverylastdinnertogetherbeforeshewentintotheconvalescenthospital.Wedrovetoanearbysimplelittlefamily-ownedrestaurant.IorderedpotroastforNanaandahamburgerformyself.ThefoodarrivedandasIdugin,InoticedthatNanawasn'teating.Shewasjuststaringatthefoodonherplate.Movingmyplateaside,ItookNana'splate,placeditinfrontofme,andcuthermeatintosmallpieces.Ithenplacedtheplatebackinfrontofher.Assheveryweakly,andwithgreatdifficulty,forkedthemeatintohermouth,Iwasstruckwithamemorythatbroughtinstanttearstomyeyes.Fortyyearspreviously,asalittleboysittingatthetable,NanahadalwaystakenthemeatonmyplateandcutitintosmallpiecessoIcouldeatit.Ithadtaken40years,butthegooddeedhadbeenrepaid.Nanawasright.Werea

pexactlywhatwesow."Everygooddeedyoudowillsomedaycomebacktoyou."Whatabouttheeighth-gradebully?Heranintotheninth-gradebully.

DisasteronaMountainByPatriciaLorenz

WhenRuthHaganwasseventy-eightyearsold,shevisitedherdaughterJudyandteenagegranddaughterMarcyinCalifornia.Theyheadedfortheircabin,zigzaggin

gfortymilesupanddownthemountainsintheirBronco,frompavementtograveltoanarrowone-laneroadofbrittleshaleandpowderydirtthatwoundterrifyinglyclosetocliffs.AfterdinnerMarcyannouncedthewatertankwaslowandthatshewouldtaketheBroncodowntothepumpandgetwater.Ruthwasnervousaboutheryounggranddaughterdrivingdownthenarrowdirtroadbyherself,butJudyremindedherthatMarcyhadbeendrivingvehiclesupthereontheranchroadssinceshewastwelve."Justbecareful,Marcy,"hermotherwarned."They'vehadadryspelluphereandthecliffsideisprettyshaky.Besuretohugthemountainside."RuthsaidaquickprayerassheandJudywatchedMarcyfromthebigwindowwheretheycouldseetheroadwindingdownthemountainside.FifteenminuteslaterJudywasstillwatchingwhensuddenlyshescreamed,"Ohno!Godhelpus!Shewent

overthecliff,Momma!TheBroncoandMarcy-theywentover!Wehavetohelpher!Comeon!"ThecabindoorslammedandJudytookoffrunning.Ruthranbehindher,butJudywasquicklyoutofsightafterthefirstturnintheroad.Ruthraceddownthesteephill,breathinghard.Sheranonandon,downthehill,upthenext,tryingtocatchupwithherdaughter.Itwasgettingharderandhardertoseeanythingatdusk.Ruthstoppedcoldandlookedaround.Shescreamedintothedarkness"Judy,whereareyou?"Offtoherimmediaterightanddownthecliffsheheard,"Downhere,Mother!Don'tcomeneartheedge!Islippedonlooserocksandfellover.I'mdownabouttwentyfeet."

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ManateeMeetingByLindaBallou

WalkingaloneonaremotebeachinsouthwestFlorida,Iwasstartledtohearsplashesandadeepsighcomingfromthewaterjustoffshore.AsIsquintedinthedirectionofthesounds,theroundedgraybackofaseacreatureroseamidaredfroth,rolledturbulentlyatthesurface,thensankbackintotheGulf.Momentslaterabroadnoseemergedandexhaledinagreatsnufflingbreath.Itwasamanatee,andbythelooksofthereddish-coloredwaterandthewayitwasthrashing,itwasintrouble.Ihadoftenwatchedmanateesinthesewarmcoastalwaters,butI'dneverseenoneactlikethisbefore.Usuallyjusttheirbignostrilsappearedforagulpofairastheyforagedonseagrassesorswamslowlytogreenerunderwaterpastures.ButIalsoknewhowcommonitwasfortheselumberinggiantstobegashedbyboatpropellersorentangledincrabtraps.Iwantedtohelp,butwhatcouldIdo?Therewasnooneelseonthebeach,andthenearestphonetocalltheMarinePatrolwasmilesaway.Tossingmybeachbagontothesand,Ibeganwadingtowardtheanimal,whocontinuedtowritheasifindistress.IwasstillonlywaistdeepwhenIcamecloseenoughtomakeoutthebristlywhiskersonthemanatee'smuzzleasitthrustupo

utofthesea.Then,tomysurprise,asecondmuzzle,muchsmaller,pokedupbesideit.Ipushedonthroughtheshoalwater,butnowthemanateeswerealsomovingtowardme.BeforeIknewwhatwashappening,Iwasinchest-deepwaterencircledbynotoneortwo,butatleastthreeblimplikebodies.Ifeltelatedandslightlydizzylikethekidwhois'it'inaschoolyardgame.Abulboussnoutemergednexttome.Inthetranslucentwater,Icouldclearlyseetherestofthehugemammal,andthere,nestledclosebehindher,asmallerversionofhermassivebody.Then,withincrediblegentlenessforsuchanenormouscreature,thelargermanateenudgedthelittleonewithherpaddle-shapedflipperandpushedittothesurfacebesideme.Iwantedtoreachoutandtouchthepudgyseababy,butIhesitated,notknowingtherulesofthisinter-speciesencounter.

Asthetwoslippedbackunderwater,twoothermanateesmovedinfrombehindandslidby,oneoneitherside,rubbinggentlyagainstmybodyastheyswampast.Theycircledandrepeatedtheaction,thistimefollowedbythemotherandhercalf.Emboldenedbytheirovertures,Iletmyhandgrazethesideofthesmallmanatee,nowclingingtothemother'sback,astheymadetheirpass.Itsskinfeltrubberyandfirmlikeanoldfashionedhotwaterbottle.Thegroupcompletedseveralmorecircuits.Sincetheyobviouslyenjoyedtouchingme,Ibeganstrokingeachofthemastheysidledby.Whenoneofthemrolledoverforascratch,IknewIhadmadetherightmove.Eventuallymynewfriendsmadetheirwayofftowardsdeeperwater.Istoodanchoredtothespot,notwishingtobreakthespell,untilfinallytherisingtideforcedmebacktoshore.IsupposeIwillneverknowexactlywhattookplacethatmorning.Iliketothin

kthatthemanateesincludedmeintheircelebrationofabirth;thatIwaswelcomedtomeetthenewestmemberoftheirtribe.ButovertimeIhavecometocherishtheexperiencewithoutquestions.Duringthatunexpectedrendezvous,IfeltmoreintunewiththerhythmsoflifeonthisvastplanetthanIeverhave.ThememoryhasbecomeasongIsingtomyselfwhenIhavetheblues,adanceIdotocelebratejoy.Andeachyear,duringthelastweekofMay,Ipackalunchandheadforthatisolatedstretchofbeachforaquietlittlebirthdaypicnicontheshore.Afterall,youneverknowwhomightshowupfortheparty.

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Remember,We'reRaisingChildren,NotFlowers!ByJackCanfield

IrecentlyheardastoryfromStephenGlennaboutafamousresearchscientistwhohadmadeseveralveryimportantmedicalbreakthroughs.Hewasbeinginterviewedbyanewspaperreporterwhoaskedhimwhyhethoughthewasabletobesomuchmorecreativethantheaverageperson.Whatsethimsofarapartfromothers?Herespondedthat,inhisopinion,itallcamefromanexperiencewithhismotherthatoccurredwhenhewasabouttwoyearsold.Hehadbeentryingtoremoveabottleofmilkfromtherefrigeratorwhenhelosthisgripontheslipperybottleanditfell,spillingitscontentsalloverthekitchenfloor-averitableseaofmilk!Whenhismothercameintothekitchen,insteadofyellingathim,givinghimalectureorpunishinghim,shesaid,"Robert,whatagreatandwonderfulmessyouhavemade!Ihaverarelyseensuchahugepuddleofmilk.Well,thedamagehasalreadybeendone.Wouldyouliketogetdownandplayinthemilkforafewminutesbeforewecleanitup?"Indeed,hedid.Afterafewminutes,hismothersaid,"Youknow,Robert,wheneveryoumakeamesslikethis,eventuallyyouhavetocleanitupandrestoreeverythingtoitsproperorder.So,howwouldyouliketodothat?Wecoulduseasp

onge,atoweloramop.Whichdoyouprefer?"Hechosethespongeandtogethertheycleanedupthespilledmilk.Hismotherthensaid,"Youknow,whatwehavehereisafailedexperimentinhowtoeffectivelycarryabigmilkbottlewithtwotinyhands.Let'sgooutinthebackyardandfillthebottlewithwaterandseeifyoucandiscoverawaytocarryitwithoutdroppingit."Thelittleboylearnedthatifhegraspedthebottleatthetopnearthelipwithbothhands,hecouldcarryitwithoutdroppingit.Whatawonderfullesson!Thisrenownedscientistthenremarkedthatitwasatthatmomentthatheknewhedidn'tneedtobeafraidtomakemistakes.Instead,helearnedthatmistakeswerejustopportunitiesforlearningsomethingnew,whichis,afterall,whatscientificexperimentsareallabout.Eveniftheexperiment"doesn'twork,"weusuallylearnsomethingvaluablefromit.

Wouldn'titbegreatifallparentswouldrespondthewayRobert'smotherrespondedtohim?

MagicSnowballTimeByColleenMadonnaFloodWilliams

Everyfall,whenthefrostfirstplayedfreezetagwiththegrass,Papawouldcometoourhouse.Hewouldshufflein,hissoft,shinyleathershoesdancingacrossMomma'ssunflower-yellow-tiledkitchenfloor.Allsixofuskidsknewwhyhe

wasthere.Firstfrostmeantmagicsnowballtime.Papaonlycametoourhouseonceayear.HeandGrannylivedinanapartmentupstairsfromanoldneighborhoodcornerstoreinthebigcity.Papasaidtheylivedtheretobeclosetotheold-fashionedpennycandycounterinthestore.WewenttoseePapa,GrannyandthatpennycandycountereverySaturday.Unless,ofcourse,thefirstfrostfellonaSaturday.ThefirstfrostalwaysmeantthatPapawascomingtoseeus.Papawouldbringanoldbatteredcoalshovelandanold-fashionedicechestwithhim.He'dhustleallsixofuskidsouttothebackyard.Then,he'dstartdiggingandtalking.Healwaysworkedashetalked.

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Papawouldtellushowhe'dlivedwiththegypsiesbeforehe'dmetGranny.He'dtellusaboutlifeontheroadwiththecarnival.He'dshowusmagictricksandtellusstrangebuttruetalesofgypsypowers.Then,Papawouldstarttalkingabouttheimportanceofthemagicsnowbank.We'dgatheraroundhimandlistenlikeweweresupposedto,butneverdid,inchurch.Hewouldtellushowsomefolksbelievedthatifyouwantedagoodsnowywinter,youalwayshadtosavealittlesnowfromthewinterbeforeandputitintothemagicsnowbank.Then,he'dletuseachhaveaturndigging.Thedirtwouldfly,aswesteadilytookturnsdiggingdownintotheearth.Wecouldsmellthelastbarbequedbreezesofsummer,andthenewlyfallenleavesofautumn.Sometimes,we'dallswearthatwe'dsmelledthepeppermint,candycane,gingerbreadhouseandpoinsettiafragrancesofChristmaswaftingoutofthathole.Papawouldtellushowsomefolksbelievedthatyouhavetogivetotheearthifyouwantittogivetoyou.He'dtalkabouthowanygoodfarmerknowsthatyoucan'texpecttoreapaharvestwithoutplantingseeds.Oursnowseedswereinhisoldicechest.Soonenough,Papawouldopenthatoldicechest.We'dcrowdarounditwiththesameamountofwondereveryyear.Inside,Papawouldhavesevenperfectmagicsnowballs.Therewasalwaysoneforhim,andoneforeachofuskids.We'dwaitpolitely,butimpatientlyashepassedthemout.Wecouldneverholdthemforlong,asPapasaiditwouldn'tworkifwewereselfish.Wedidn'twanttomeltthesnowandhavenothingtooffertheearth.Wewouldsolemnlyplaceoursnowballsintothehole,quickly,ifstillabitrel

uctantly.There'snotachildI'veeverknownthatdidn'twanttothrowasnowballonceitwasplacedintohisorherhands.Weweren'tanydifferent.Wejustknewthatwehadtogiveoursnowballstotheearth.Oursnowballsweremagic.Oursnowballsweretheseedsforthemagicsnowbank.Papawouldcoverourmagicsnowbankwiththedirtthatwe'dshoveledoutofthehole.We'dallholdhandsandsingChristmascarols,asPapaburiedourmagicsnowballs.Then,Papawouldwipehishandsonhispantsandsmile."Well,we'veplantedourmagicsnowballsonthedayofthefirstfrost,kids.It'suptothemagicsnowbanknow,"he'dsay.Whenthefirstsnowcame,asitdideverywinter,allsixofuswouldrunoutintotheyardandcatchsnowflakesonourtonguesandinourmittens.We'dtastethetickly,shiverydelightoffallingicestars.We'dexaminethecrystalbeauty

ofbrightwhite,frostyflakesondark,warmmittens.ItwasallPapa'smagic,andwewereapartofit.Wewoulddanceandhugandgiggleandgrinandsing,allsixofustogether.Weneverquarreledorarguedonthedaythefirstsnowfell.Weweretoopleasedwithourselves.Weknewweweremagic.ThefirstsnowremindedusofPapa,thefirstfrostandourmagicsnowbankdeepwithintheearth.Weknewwehadasecretallourown.Wehadhelpedthesnowtofallonceagain.Weweresnowfarmers,andtous,firstfrostmeantmagicsnowballtime.I'mallgrownupnow.Still,I'lltellyouasecret.MyfamilycarriesonPapa'smagic.Wehaveamagicsnowbankinourbackyard.Thinkofuswhenthefirstsnowflies...asIthinkofmyPapaandhopethatsomedaymygrandchildrenwillthinkofme.

ThePowerofaBlueBoxByHannaBandesGeshelin

WhenIworkedinaJewishnursinghome,IlearnedthetruemeaningoftheJewishnationalFundBlueBox.ABlueBoxisnotjustapushkeintowhichcoinsarepu

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t.Itistherepositoryofdreams,prayersandeffortsofgenerationsofJews.Ilearnedthisonedayatastorytellingactivityatmynursinghome.Oneday,tostimulatememoriesamongtheparticipantsinmygroup,Ibroughtatrayofobjects.Isetoutasmallpairofsmallcandlesticks,acoupleofseashells,alace-edged,monogrammedhandkerchief,aBlueBox,andotheroddsandendsonthetrayandpasseditaround.Theresidentswouldfingertheobjects,thenpassthetrayon.Whentheirturncame,they'dshareapersonalanecdotethatoneoftheobjectshadbroughttomind.Thatday,anaidehadbroughtClaratothegroup.Clarahadsufferedastrokethatleftherparalyzedononesideandsomewhataphasic:Sheunderstoodlanguagebuthadtroublefindingthecorrectwordswhenshewantedtospeak.Claradidnottakeherdisabilitieswithgrace.Shewasangry,hostileanddisruptive.Storytellingwasthemostinappropriateactivityofall,foritfocusedattentiononherlanguagedisability.Butthereshewas,andIwastoobusywiththerestofthegrouptowheelClarabackintothehall.IjusthopedthatClarawouldn'traisetoomuchofaruckus.Whenthetraywentaroundtheroom,ClaragrabbedtheBlueBoxinhergoodhandandclaspedittoherchest,refusingtorelinquishit.Althoughnooneelsetookanobjectoffthetray,thereweregrumblesfromtheotherparticipants."Anyonecantellastoryaboutanyobject-theseoranyothers,"Isaid.Thegrumblesdieddown.Thenthestoriesbegan.OnewomantoldhowtheseashellsremindedherofgoingtothebeacheverysummerSundayasachild.AnotherdescribedthelacyhandkerchiefshecarriedwhensheelopedwithasoldierontheeveofWorldWarII.ThenextpersonwasClara,butthepersonbeyondher,knowingClaraneve

rparticipatedinagroup,clearedherthroat.ClarawavedtheBlueBoxandsaid,"Mine,mine."Anotheroldwoman,aformersocialworker,said,"Clarawantstospeak!"Claranodded,andtheroombecamesilent.Slowly,haltingly,Clarabeganherstory.Oftenshesaidsomethingthatmadenosense,andIwouldsuggestwordsthatfitbetter.ClarawouldshakeherheaduntilIhittherightword,thenshe'dnod.Ithenrepeatedthestoryuptothatpoint,andClarawouldcontinue.Otheroldladieshadtoldtheirmemoriesintwoorthreesentences,butinspiteofherlaboriousmethodofstorytelling,Claratoldherstoryindetail.Hersonwassix,shesaid,whenWorldWarIIwasoverandthenewsofconcentrationcampsbecamepublic.Clara,ayoungBostonhousewife,wasdevastated,althoughallherfamilywasalreadyinAmerica.Herheartachedforthesurvivors,crammedintoDisplacedPersonscamps,andshewantedtohelp.Aftermuchthought,s

hemadeaplan.Everyafternoon,whenhersoncamehomefromschool,shewouldtakehimbyonehandwithherBlueBoxintheotherhand,andshewouldcollectmoneyforIsrael.ClarawentdoortodoorthroughtheJewishneighborhoods,andeveryonegave.Butshecouldn'tjuststop,soshestartedgoingthroughotherneighborhoods."Everyonegave,"shetoldthegroup."TheIrishandtheItaliansandtheGreeks,everyonegave."Theysaid,'Ifeelsobadforyourpeople.Thankyouforgivingmeachancetohelp.'"Claratoldthegroupthatfortwoyears,untilthebirthofhersecondchildwasimminent,sheandhersonwentoutalmosteverydaytocollectmoneyforIsrael,moneytobringthesurvivorshometotheirnewland.WhenClarafinished,theroomwassilent.Herpainfullytold,detailedaccounthadbroughtthosedaysbackclearlyineveryone'smind.Theyhadalsopeeledbackthecurtainoftimetoshowthiswomanwhenshehadbeenvitallyalive.Suddenl

yoneoldwomanbegantoclap,andthenapplausefilledtheroom.Claranoddedatthegroup,andthesideofhermouththatcouldmovecurvedintoasmile.Slowlytheroomreturnedtonormal,andthenextpersontoldherstory.Thatnight,Clarahadanotherstroke,onethatlefthercompletelyunabletospeak.Butinmyeyesandthoseoftheotherpeoplewhohadbeeninthatroomthatday,Claraneveragainlookedlikethemerewreckofawoman.Instead,wesawpastthewreckageofagetothevibrantsoulofawomanwhocared.

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TheDayIBecameaMomByLindaJones

ThedayIbecameamomwasnotthedaymydaughterwasborn,butsevenyearslater.Upuntilthatday,Ihadbeentoobusytryingtosurvivemyabusivemarriage.Ihadspentallmyenergytryingtoruna"perfect"homethatwouldpassinspectioneachevening,andIdidn'tseethatmybabygirlhadbecomeatoddler.I'dtriedendlesslytopleasesomeonewhocouldneverbepleasedandsuddenlyrealizedthattheyearshadslippedbyandcouldneverberecaptured.Oh,Ihaddonethenormal"motherly"things,likemakingsuremydaughtergottoballetandtapandgymlessons.Iwenttoallofherrecitalsandschoolconcerts,parent-teacherconferencesandopenhouses-alone.Iraninterferenceduringmyhusband'srageswhensomethingwasspilledatthedinnertable,tellingher,"Itwillbeokay,Honey.Daddy'snotreallymadatyou."IdidallIcouldtoprotectherfromhearingtheawfulshoutingandaccusationsafterhereturnedfromanightofdrinking.FinallyIdidthebestthingIcoulddoformydaughterandmyself:Iremovedusfromthehomethatwasn'treallyahomeatall.ThatdayIbecameamomwasthedaymydaughterandIweresittinginournewhomehavingacalm,quietdinnerjustasIhadalwayswantedforher.Weweretalkingaboutwhatshehaddoneinschoolandsuddenlyherlittlehandknockedoverthefullglassofchocolatemilkbyherplate.AsIwatchedthewhitetableclothandfreshlypaintedwhitewallbecomedarkbrown,Ilookedathersmallface.I

twasfilledwithfear,knowingwhattheoutcomeoftheeventwouldhavemeantonlyaweekbeforeinherfather'spresence.WhenIsawthatlookonherfaceandlookedatthechocolatemilkrunningdownthewall,Isimplystartedlaughing.IamsureshethoughtIwascrazy,butthenshemusthaverealizedthatIwasthinking,"It'sagoodthingyourfatherisn'there!"Shestartedlaughingwithme,andwelaugheduntilwecried.Theyweretearsofjoyandpeaceandwerethefirstofmanytearsthatwecriedtogether.Thatwasthedayweknewthatweweregoingtobeokay.Whenevereitherofusspillssomething,evennow,seventeenyearslater,shesays,"RememberthedayIspilledthechocolatemilk?Iknewthatdaythatyouhaddonetherightthingforus,andIwillneverforgetit."ThatwasthedayIreallybecameamom.Idiscoveredthatbeingamomisn'tonlygoingtoballet,andtapandgymrecitals,andattendingeveryschoolconcerta

ndopenhouse.Itisn'tkeepingaspotlesshouseandpreparingperfectmeals.Itcertainlyisn'tpretendingthingsarenormalwhentheyarenot.Forme,beingamomstartedwhenIcouldlaughoverspilledmilk.

TheGiftofMusicByBrandonLagana

IhadbeeninsidetheprisoncalledGanderHillseveraltimesalreadybythetimeImetRayinthespringof1993.Myfatherworkedtherewithagroupteaching

inmatestoimprovetheircommunicationandspeakingskills.Iwasaseniorincollege,majoringinspeechcommunications,andeventuallyIstartedmyownvolunteerstudentgroupatGanderHill.Teachingcommunicationmeansgettingpeopletotelltheirstories,butRaycouldtellyouhowmuchhemissedplayinghisguitarwithoutspeaking.Sometimeshemovedhishandsacrosstheairasifhewereplayinghisfavoritebluesscale.Healwaysgavemeaslightnodwhenhesawmecomeintothechapelforthemeeting.Helovedsharinghisguitarstories.AlthoughhehadbeenaninmateatGanderHillforoveradecade,healwayshadasonginhishead,inparticularonethathesaidhehadbeenwritinginhismindsincehisarrival.Helookedforwardto

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playingagainthewayachildcountsthedaysuntilsummervacation.WhenmygroupformallyestablisheditselfatGanderHill,themenwereallowedanightofcelebrationtowhichtheycouldinviteoneortwofamilymembers.ThenightofthecelebrationwasjustlikeChristmasforthem.Theyhuddledwiththeirlovedones,whomtheyhadnotseenortouchedinseveralmonthsorlonger.SincehisfamilylivedinTexas,noonecametothecelebrationasRay'sguest,buthewaitedpatientlyformetoarrive.Asherehearsedhissonginhishead,Iwalkedintotheprisonwithaguitar.Raytunedthatguitarasifhewereputtinghislifebackintoharmony.Ihaveneverheardaguitartunedlikethatbeforeorsince.Helookedatmeoverhisshoulderandnoddedathank-youbeforebringinghissongtolifeontheguitar.IwatchedRay'sfingersdanceacrossthestringsasiftheywerehimself,runningfree.Andforthosemoments,hewas.

AChangeofHeartByGeorgeMapson

Itwasthetailendofthedepression,andthingsweretough.MumhadahardtimeraisinguskidsonherowninoursmallcommunityofNewWestminster,BC.MyDadhaddrownedinPittLake,fiveyearsearlier-Istillrememberitlikeitwa

syesterday.BecauseDadhadnopension,orbenefits,therewasnotmuchmoneysowewentonrelief,nowcalledsocialassistance.WereliedontheSalvationArmytokeepusclothed,andalthoughourclothesweresecondhand,wethoughttheywerebeautiful.Lookingback,IrealizewhatMumwentthroughsendinguskidstoschool.Everymorningshewouldtuckanewpieceofcardboardinourshoes,becauseoursoleswerewornout.Whenwegothome,Mumwouldhave"FrenchToast"readyforus.Thiswasbreaddeep-friedinlard.Constantmovingwastypicalformyfamilyinthesetimes.Rentwastwenty-fivedollarsamonth,butMumcouldn'tpayit,andweknewwewouldbeevictedrightafterChristmasonthefirstofJanuary.Thesewerehardandsadyears,butwenevercomplained.Christmaswasapproaching,andwewereentitledtoatwenty-fivedollarChristmasfundforsocialservices.TheInspectorcametoourhouse,andsearcheditfro

mtoptobottomtobesurewedidn'thaveanyfoodhiddenaway.Whenhedidn'tfindany,heissuedthechequeforMum.ItwasfourdaysbeforeChristmas,andMumsaidthatinsteadofbuyingfood,shewouldusethemoneytopaybackrent,assuringusallofaroofoverourheadsforalittlewhilelonger.ShetoldusthentherewouldbenothingforChristmas.UnknowntoMum,IhadbeensellingChristmastrees,shovelingsnow,anddoingoddjobstoearnenoughmoneytobuyanewpairofboots.Bootsthatweren'tpatched,bootswithnocardboardinthesoles.IknewexactlywhichbootsIwanted.Theywereten-inchTopGenuinePierreParisandtheyhadapriceoftwenty-threedollars.Well,thebigdaycameontheafternoonofChristmasEve.Iwasveryexcited,asIhurrieduptheroadtocatchthebus.Itwasonlyhalfamilewalk,butonthewayInoticedahousewithChristmaslightsanddecorations.ItwasthenIrea

lizedthatatourhouse,wehadnolights,nodecorations,noranymoneyforChristmasgoodies.IknewthenthatwewouldhavenoturkeyorhamforChristmas,andIfeltsad.ButIknewforcertainthatwewouldhaveFrenchtoast.AsIcontinuedwalkingIbegantofeelbewildered.Iwaselevenyearsold,andIwasfeelingastrangesenseofguilt.HereIwasgoingtobuyanewpairofbootswhileMumwashomeintears.Shewouldbetryingtoexplaintouswhytherewerenopresents.AsIarrivedatthebusstop,thedriveropenedhisbigmanualhingeddoor.Istoodthereforwhatseemedaneternity,untileventuallythedriverasked,"Son,areyougettingonthisbusornot?"Ifinallyblurtedout,"No

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thanksSir,I'vechangedmymind."Thebusdroveoffwithoutme,andIstoodaloneinadaze,butfeelingasifaweighthadbeenliftedoffmyshoulders.MymindwasmadeupandIrealizedwhatIhadtodo.AcrossthestreetfromthebusstopwasabiggrocerystorecalledthePigglyWiggley.IntothestoreIwent,brimmingwithhappinessandexcitement.Irealizedthatthetwenty-fivedollarsIhadworkedsohardforwentalongwayforgroceries.Iboughtaturkey,ham,orangesandalltheChristmastreats.Ispenteverydimeofmyhard-earnedmoney.Theownerofthegrocerystoresaid,"Son,youcan'tpackallthosegroceriesandcarrythemhomeyourself."SoIaskedtwoboyswithcarriersontheirbicyclestorunthemthehalf-miledowntoourhouse.AsIwalkedbehindthedeliveryboys,Iwhisperedforthemtoquietlyunloadthegroceriesontheporchandpilethemagainstthedoor.Oncetheyhaddonethis,withgreatexcitementandtearsinmyeyes,Iknockedonthedoor.Icouldhardlywaittoseemymother'sface!WhenMumopenedthedoor,someofthegroceriesfellinsideontothefloor,andshejuststoodtheredumbfounded.Holdingbackthetears,Ihollered,"MerryChristmasMother!!TherereallyisaSantaClaus!"Ihadalotofexplainingtodoasweunpackedallthefoodandputitaway.ThatdayIgotenoughhugsandkissesfromMumtolasttwolifetimes.ToseemyMother'sprayersansweredmorethanmadeupforthebootsInevergot.ItwasaMerryChristmasforusafterall!

SpeakingByCynthiaLaughlinIwasnodifferentfromanyothermother.Whenmylittleboy,Skyler,wasborn,Ilongedforthedayhewouldtalktome.MyhusbandandIdreamedaboutthefirstsweet"Mama"or"Dada."Everycryorcoowasasmallglimpseintomyson'smind.Mybaby'snoiseswereevenmoreprecioustomebecauseSkylerhadbeenbornwithseveralhealthproblems.Atfirst,theproblemshaddelayedhisdevelopment,butoncetheyweresafelybehindus,Ilookedforwardtomyson'sfirstwords.The

ydidn'tcome.Atagethree,Skylerwasdiagnosedautistic,adevelopmentaldisabilitydestinedtoaffecthissocialandemotionalwell-beinghisentirelife.Skylercouldn'ttalk-wouldn'ttalk.Iwouldprobablyneverhearanywordsfromhimatall.Inastore,Iwouldhearachildcalling"Mommy,"andIwouldwonderifthatwerewhatmylittleboymightsoundlike.Iwonderedhowitwouldfeeltohearmychildcalloutforme.ButIcouldhavelearnedtolivewithhissilenceifitweren'tforanotherhallmarkcharacteristicofautism:Skylerformednoattachments.Hedidn'twanttobeheld,muchpreferringtolieinhisbedorsitinhiscarseat.Hewouldn'tlookatme;sometimes,heevenlookedthroughme.Once,whenItookhimtothedoctor,wetalkedtoaspecialistwhowasmysize,ageandwhohadthesamehaircolor.Whenitwastimetogo,Skylerwenttoher

insteadofme-hecouldn'ttellusapart.WhenSkylerwasthree,hespentthreedaysatCampCourageousfordisabledchildreninIowa,andwhenhereturnedhedidn'tevenrecognizeme.Thepainwasalmostunbearable.Myownsondidn'tevenknowIwashismother.Ihidthepain,andwedidthebestwecouldforSkyler.Weenrolledhiminourlocalareaeducationalagencypreschool,wheretheteachersandspeechpathologistworkedhardtohelpSkylerconnectwiththeworldaroundhim.Theyusedpicturesandcomputervoice-machinesthatspokeforhim,andsignlanguage.ThesedevicesgavemelittleglimpsesofwhoSkylerwas,evenifhedidn'tunderstandwhoIwas."Hewilltalk,"thespeechpathologistinsisted,butinside,Ihadgiven

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uphope.TheonedreamIcouldn'tletgowastohaveSkylerunderstandthatIwashismom.EvenifIneverheardhimsay,"Mom,"Iwantedtoseetherecognitioninhiseyes.ThesummerofSkyler'sfourthyearwaswhenitstarted.Asmolderingemberofunderstandinginhimsparked,andfannedbyourefforts,steadilyflamed.Hisfirstwordswerehardlyrecognizable,oftenoutofcontext,neverspontaneous.Then,slowly,hecouldpointtoanitemandsayaword.Thentwowordstogetherasarequest.Thenspontaneouswords.Eachday,headdedmoreandmorerecognizablewords,usingthemtoidentifypicturesandaskquestions.Wecouldseehisunderstandingincrease,tillhiseyeswouldseekoutmine,wantingtocomprehend."YouMom?"hesaidoneday."Yes,Skyler,I'mMom."Heaskedhisteachersandcaregivers:"YouMom?""No,Skyler,notMom.""YoumyMom?"hesaidbacktome."Yes,Skyler,I'myourMom."Andfinally,arushofunderstandinginhiseyes:"YoumyMom.""Yes,Skyler,I'myourMom."IfthosehadbeenSkyler'sonlywordsever,theywouldhavebeenenoughforme:MysonknewIwashismother.ButSkylerwasn'tdone.OneeveningIleanedagainsttheheadboardonSkyler'sbed,myarmswrappedaroundhim.Hewascozilytuckedbetweenmylegs,ourbodieswarmandsnugasIread

tohimfromoneofhisfavoritebooks-atypicalaffectionatescenebetweenmotherandson,butbecauseofSkyler'sautism,onethatIcouldnevertakeforgranted.Istoppedreading.Skylerhadinterruptedme,leaningbackhisheadsohecouldlookmeintheeye."Yes,Skyler?"Andthenthevoiceofanangel,thevoiceofmyson:"Iloveyou,Mom."

FlyingAKiteByVickiL.Kitchner

Herskinwasthecolorofrich,hotchocolateandherbrowneyestwinkledwithintelligenceandhumor.HernamewasMichelleandshespentherdaysinapurplewheelchairbecauseshehadbeenbornwithCerebralPalsy.Sherolledintomyclassroom-andmyheart-whenshewasjustthreeyearsold.Hercouragewasaninspirationtomeandherspirittouchedmyheart.Michelleandhermotheroncegavemeafigurineofabeautifulblackchildsittinginawheelchair.Idisplayedthecherishedgiftonashelfinmydenathome.ItalwaysremindedmeofthelittlegirlIlovedsomuch.WhenMichellewasseven,shewastoundergoopen-heartsurgeryforthethirdtime.Thenightbeforesurgery,Isatinthechairbesideherbedandheldherhand

."I'mtired,Bicki,"shesaidweakly."Whydon'tyoucloseyoureyesandtrytogetsomesleep?""No,notsleepy.Tired."Ithoughtofthetiny,imperfectheartthathadtoworksohard,thegrandmalseizures,terribleheadachesandtight,spasticmusclesthatmadehereverymovedifficultandpainful.Iwasheart-brokenatthewisdomofthelittlesoulwhounderstoodthedifferencebetweensleepyandtiredatsuchayoungage."WillIgotoHeavensoon?"Iplacedmyhandonherforehead,"Idon'tknow,that'suptoGod."

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Sheglancedatthestarsthroughthewindowofherroom."HowwillIgetallthewayupthere?Anairplane?""No,Godwillsendaspecialangeltoshowyoutheway.Youwon'thavetotakeyourwheelchairoryourlegbracesoranyofyourmedicinebecauseyouwon'tneedanyofthatinHeaven.You'llbeabletorunandplayjustlikeyourbrother."Hereyesfilledwithhope."DoyouthinkIcouldflyakite?"Iswallowedatearandsmiled,"I'msureifyouaskGodforakite,hewouldfindoneforyou.""Oh,IhopesoBicki!"ItwasveryearlyinthemorningwhileIwasdoingmyprayertimewhenthefigurineofMichelle,fornoapparentreason,fellfrommybookshelftothefloor.Theimpactofthefallseparatedthefigureofthegirlfromthewheelchair.Iwasdevastatedandvowedtohaveitrepaired.Laterthatsameday,Michelle'smothercalledtotellmethatherdaughter'shearthadsimplystoppedbeatingandshehadpeacefullyslippedawayintheearlyhoursbeforedawn.Ihavesincethrowntheceramicwheelchairawayandthelittlegirlsitsontheedgeoftheshelfwithherlegsdanglingovertheside.She'ssmilingtowardthesky.IalwaysthinkofMichelleonwarm,windydays.Iimagineherrunningthroughthecloudswithakitedancingaboveher!

Grandfather'sClockbyKathyFasiq

Inthediningroomofmygrandfather'shousestoodamassivegrandfatherclock.Mealsinthatdiningroomwereatimeforfourgenerationstobecomeone.Thetablewasalwaysspreadwithfoodfromwonderfulfamilyrecipesallcontainingloveasthemainingredient.Andalwaysthatgrandfatherclockstoodlikeatrustedoldfamilyfriend,watchingoverthelaughterandstoryswappingandgentlekiddingthatwereapartofourlives.Asachild,theoldclockfascinatedme.Iwatchedandlistenedtoitduringmeals.Imarveledathowatdifferenttimesoftheday,thatclockwouldchimethreetimes,sixtimesormore,withawonderfulresonantsoundthatechoedthroughoutthehouse.Ifoundtheclockcomforting.Familiar.Yearafteryear,theclock

chimed,apartofmymemories,apartofmyheart.Evenmorewonderfultomewasmygrandfather'sritual.Hemeticulouslywoundthatclockwithaspecialkeyeachday.Thatkeywasmagictome.Itkeptourfamily'smagnificentclocktickingandchiming,apartofeveryholidayandeverytradition,assolidasthewoodfromwhichitwasmade.Irememberwatchingasmygrand-fathertookthekeyfromhispocketandopenedthehiddendoorinthemassiveoldclock.Heinsertedthekeyandwound-nottoomuch,neveroverwind,he'dtellmesolemnly.Nortoolittle.Heneverletthatclockwinddownandstop.Whenwegrandkidsgotalittleolder,heshowedushowtoopenthedoortothegrandfatherclockandletuseachtakeaturnwindingthekey.IrememberthefirsttimeIdid,Itrembledwithanticipation.Tobepartofthisfamilyritualwassacred.Aftermybelovedgrandfatherdied,itwasseveraldaysafterthefuneralbefore

Irememberedtheclock!"Mama!Theclock!We'veletitwinddown."ThetearsflowedfreelywhenIenteredthediningroom.Theclockstoodforlornlyquiet.Asquietasthefuneralparlorhadbeen.Hushed.Theclockevenseemedsmaller.Notquiteasmagnificentwithoutmygrandfather'sspecialtouch.Icouldn'tbeartolookatit.Sometimelater,yearslater,mygrandmothergavemetheclockandthekey.Theoldhousewasquiet.Nobowlsclanging,nolaughteroverthedinnertable,notickingorchimingoftheclock-allwasstill.Thehandsontheclockwerefrozen,areminderoftimeslippingaway,stoppedattheprecisemomentwhenmygrandfat

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herhadceasedwindingit.Itookthekeyinmyshakinghandandopenedtheclockdoor.Allofasudden,Iwasachildagain,watchingmygrandfatherwithhissilver-whitehairandtwinklingblueeyes.Hewasthere,winkingatme,atthesecretoftheclock'smagic,atthekeythatheldsomuchpower.Istood,lostinthemomentforalongtime.Thenslowly,reverently,Iinsertedthekeyandwoundtheclock.Itsprangtolife.Tick-tock,tick-tock,lifeandchimeswerebreathedintothediningroom,intothehouseandintomyheart.Inthemovementofthehandsoftheclock,mygrandfatherlivedagain.

TheFirstDayofMiddleSchoolByPattyHansen

Mystomachtiedinknots,andIcouldfeelthesweatsoakingthroughmyT-shirt.MyhandswereclammyasIspunthefaceofmycombinationlock.Itriedandtriedtorememberthenumbers,andeverytimeIthoughtIhadit,thelockwouldn'topen.Aroundandaroundwentthenumbers,left,right,,,,,,,,,left...whichwaywasitsupposedtogo?Icouldn'tmakeitwork.Igaveupandstartedtorundownthehallway.AsIran,thehallseemedtogetlongerandlonger...thedoorItryingtoreachwasfartherawaythanwhenIhadstarted.Ibegantosweatevenw

orse,thenIcouldfeelthetearsforming.Iwaslate,llllllllllformyfirstclassonmyfirstdayofmiddleschool.AsIran,peoplewerewatchingmeandtheywerelaughing...laughing...laughing...thenthebellrang!Inmydream,itwastheschoolbell.ButasIsatupinbed,Irealizedthatitwasmyalarmclockjarringmeawake.Iwashavingthedreamagain.Istartedhavingthedreamaroundtheendofthesixthgrade,andasthestartofseventhgradegrewcloser,themoreIhadthedream.Thistimethedreamwasevenmorereal,becausetodaywasthefirstdayofseventhgrade.Inmyheart,IknewIneverwouldmakeit.Everythingwastoodifferent.School,friends-evenmyownbody.Iwasusedtowalkingtoschool,andnowIhadtowalksixblockstothebusstopsothatIcouldtakethebustoandfromschool.Ihatedbuses.Theymademec

arsickfromthejigglingandthesmellofthefuel.Ihadtogetupforschoolearlierthaninthepast,partlybecauseofhavingtobebussedtoschoolandpartlybecauseIhadtotakebettercareofmyselfnowthatIwasinmypreteenyears.MymomtoldmeIwouldhavetoshowereverymorningsincemyhormoneswerekickingin-that'swhyIperspiredsoeasily.Iwastotallyuncomfortablewithmybody.Myfeetdidn'twanttorespondtomyowndirections,andItrippedalot.Iconstantlyhadasprainedankle,wetarmpitsandthingsstuckinmybraces.Ifeltawkward,smelly,insecureandlikeIhadbadbreathonafull-timebasis.Inmiddleschool,Iwouldhavetolearntherulesandpersonalitiesofsixdifferentteachersinsteadofjustone.Therewouldbedifferentkidsinallmyclasses,kidsIdidn'tevenknow.Ihadnevermadefriendsveryeasily,andnowIwouldhavetostartalloveragain.

Iwouldhavetoruntomylockerbetweenclasses,rememberingmycombination,openit,putinthebooksfromthelastclassandtakeoutdifferentbooks...andmakeittothenextclassallwithinfiveminutes!IwasalsoscaredbecauseofsomestoriesIhadheardaboutthefirstdayofmiddleschool,likebeingcannedbytheeighth-graders.That'swhenabunchofeighth-graderspickyouupandputyouinatrashcan.Ihadalsoheardthatwheneighth-gradegirlscatchanewseventh-graderinthegirls'bathroomalone,theysmearherwithlipstick.Neitheroneofthesefirst-dayactivitiessoundedlikesomethingIwantedtotakepartin.Noonehadevertoldmethatgrowingupwasgoingtobesohard,soscary,soun

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welcome,so...unexpected.Iwastheoldestkidinmyfamily-infact,inmyentireneighborhood-andnoonehadbeentherebeforeme,tohelpleadmethroughthechallengesofmiddleschool.Iwasonmyown.ThefirstdayofschoolwasalmosteverythingIfeared.Ididn'tremembermycombination.Iwrotethecombinationonmyhand,butmyhandwassosweatyitcameoff.Iwaslatetoeveryclass.Ididn'thaveenoughtimetofinishmylunch;Ihadjustsatdowntoeatwhenthebellrangtogobacktoclass.IalmostchokedonmypeanutbutterandjellysandwichasIrandownthedreadedhallway.Theclassroomsandtheteacherswereablur.Iwasn'tsurewhatteacherwentwithwhichsubjectandtheyhadallassignedhomework...ontheveryfirstdayofschool!Icouldn'tbelieveit.Butthefirstdaywasn'tlikemydreaminanotherway.Inmydream,alltheotherkidshadittogetherandIwastheonlyonewhowasthenerd.Inreallife,Iwasn'ttheonlyonewhowaslateforclasses.Everyoneelsewaslate,too.Noonecouldremembertheircombinationeither,exceptTedMilliken,thekidwhocarriedabriefcasetoschool.Aftermostofthekidsrealizedthateveryoneelsewasgoingthroughthesamethingtheyweregoingthrough,weallstartedcrackingup.Wewerebumpingintoeachotherinourrushtogettothenextclass,andbookswereflyingeverywhere.Noonegotcannedorsmeared-atleastnooneIknew.Istilldidn'tgointothegirls'bathroomalone,justincase.Yeah,therewaslaughterinthehallway,butmostofitwasthelaughterofkidssharingacommonexperience:completehysteria!Astheweekswentby,itbecameeasierandeasier.PrettysoonIcouldtwirlmy

combinationwithoutevenlookingatit.Ihungpostersinmylocker,andfinallyfeltlikeIwasathome.Ilearnedallmyteacher'snamesanddecidedwhoIlikedthebest.Friendshipsfromelementaryschoolwererenewedandmadestronger,andnewfriendsweremade.Ilearnedhowtochangeintoagymsuitinfrontofothergirls.Itneverfeltcomfortable,butIdidit-justlikeeveryoneelsedid.Idon'tthinkanyofusfeltverycomfortable.Istilldidn'tlikethebus;itdidmakemecarsick.Ieventhrewuponthebusonce.(Atleastitwasonthewayhome,notonthewaytoschool.)Iwenttodancesandparties,andIstartedtowonderwhatitwouldfeelliketobekissedbyaboy.Theschoolhadtracktryouts,andImadetheteamandlearnedhowtojumpthelowhurdles.Igotprettygoodatit,too.Firstsemesterturnedintosecond,andthenthird.BeforeIknewit,eighthgradewasjustaroundthecorner.Ihadmadeitthrough.

Nextyear,onthefirstdayofschool,Iwouldbewatchingthenewseventh-graderssweatingitoutjustlikeIdid-justlikeeveryonedoes.IdecidedthatIwouldfeelsorryforthem...butonlyfortheFIRSTdayofseventhgrade.Afterthat,it'sabreeze.

somethingSpecialByPamBumpus

"Iwoulddosomethingspecialforher.Nottakeoutthetrashwithoutbeingremi

nded.Somethingspecial,somethingIwouldn'tordinarilydo."Withtearsstreamingdownhisface,thegentlemanhadjustansweredthereporter'squestion,"Whatwouldyoudodifferentlyifyouhadknownyoumightnotseeyourwifeagain?"Now,Ipersonallythinkthisisaprettycrappyquestiontoaskanyone,muchlessthehusbandofavictimofaterroristattack.Thereporterseemedtohavenocompassionforthismanwhosewife'splanehadbeenflownintotheWorldTradeCenter."I'mjustgladIkissedhergood-byeandtoldherIlovedherthismorning,"hemanagedtochokeout.Ofcourse,wewouldallactdifferentlyifweknewtimetogetherwithourspouse

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wasrunningout.MyangerattheinsensitivereportersimmeredalongwiththedisbeliefandfearthathadbecomepartofmylifesincewatchingtheresultsoftheattackonAmerica."Stupidguy,"Imutteredtomyself,switchingoffthetelevision.MaybeIneededabreak.Ihavethatluxury.Icanturnoffthepicturesofthedevastatedbuildings,despondentrelativesandharriedrescueworkers.ButcouldIturnoffmyfeelings?MyhusbandAlanandIfarm.Hewascuttingafieldofsoybeansthatafternoon.IdecidedtogotakepicturesoftheAmericanflaghehadmountedonthebackofourcombine.Withterroriststryingtocrippleournation,wewantedtoshowoursupport:TheAmericanfarmerwasstillhardatwork.Backatthehouse,startingaloadoflaundry,Ifoundmyselfthinkingaboutthatinterview.'Iwoulddosomethingspecial,'playedoverandoverinmymind.Thatgentlemanwouldneverhavethatopportunitynow,butIdid.IhopeAlanandIhaveanotherfortyyearstogether.Buttherearenoguarantees.Tomorrowsarenotguaranteed.'SomethingIwouldn'tordinarilydo.'Well,hispickupcouldsureuseagoodcleaning.SoIgottoit.Afteraboutthirtyminutesofvacuumingandscrubbingtheinterior,Iwasreadytowashtheoutside.Ihadonelittleproblem:Startingthepowerwasherwasabittricky.Youhadtochokethemotorjustenough,andtheidlehadtobesetjustso.Thepossibilityofgettingjerkedontherecoilwassignificant.'Somethingspecial...'GrabbingtheropepullItackleditheadon.SuddenlyitwasveryimportanttometoaccomplishthissurpriseforAlan.Severalattemptslater,withnosuccessandanachingarm,IthoughtImightnotsucceed.'Lord,'Iprayedsilently,'Icouldsureuseyourhelp.Iwanttogetthi

sstartedsoIcanfinishthisforAlan.Ireallywanttodothisforhim.'Theguilthitimmediately.HowcouldIbotherourLordatatimelikethis?Thousandswereprayingfortheirlovedones.Muchmoreimportantprayersneededhisattentionrightnow."I'msorry,Lord,"Iwhispered.HowcouldIbesoselfish?Ihadspentalotoftimeinprayeroverthepastthreedays,askingforcomfortforthevictims'families,strengthforournation'sleadersandhealingforallofus.Myrequestforhelpnowwasautomatic.Ialwaysaskforhelpwhenfacingadifficulttask.Butitjustdidn'tseemrighttodosotoday.Defeatdidn'tseemanoptioneither,soIpulledtheropeonemoretime.Themotorsputteredtolife.Yes,Alanwassurprisedandgratefulwhenhesawhispickup.AndIwassurprisedandgratefulfortheimportantlessonsIlearnedthatday.Firstofall,despitehistactlessapproach,thereporterbroughthomeaveryimportantpoint.Throu

ghhispain,themanwholosthisspousetaughtmetocherishmine.Iwilllookforthose"special"thingstodoforAlan.Secondly,andmaybemoreimportantly,Goddoescareaboutus,allofus.Hehearstheprayersofthosewhosesufferingseemsunbearable.Hecares.Andhehearsthoseofuswhoneedalittleboostwhenwehavesetouttodosomethingspecialforsomeonewelove.

HungryforYourLovebyHermanandRomaRosenblat

AstoldtoBarbaraDeAngelis,Ph.D.Itiscold,sobittercold,onthisdark,winterdayin1942.ButitisnodifferentfromanyotherdayinthisNaziconcentrationcamp.Istandshiveringinmythinrags,stillindisbeliefthatthisnightmareishappening.Iamjustayoungboy.Ishouldbeplayingwithfriends;Ishouldbegoingtoschool;Ishouldbelookingforwardtoafuture,togrowingupandmarrying,andhavingafamilyofmyown.Butthosedreamsarefortheliving,andIamnolongeroneofthem.Instead,Iamalmostdead,survivingfromdaytoday,fromhourtohour,eversi

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nceIwastakenfrommyhomeandbroughtherewithtensofthousandsotherJews.WillIstillbealivetomorrow?WillIbetakentothegaschambertonight?BackandforthIwalknexttothebarbedwirefence,tryingtokeepmyemaciatedbodywarm.Iamhungry,butIhavebeenhungryforlongerthanIwanttoremember.Iamalwayshungry.Ediblefoodseemslikeadream.Eachdayasmoreofusdisappear,thehappypastseemslikeameredream,andIsinkdeeperanddeeperintodespair.Suddenly,Inoticeayounggirlwalkingpastontheothersideofthebarbedwire.Shestopsandlooksatmewithsadeyes,eyesthatseemtosaythatsheunderstands,thatshe,too,cannotfathomwhyIamhere.Iwanttolookaway,oddlyashamedforthisstrangertoseemelikethis,butIcannottearmyeyesfromhers.Thenshereachesintoherpocket,andpullsoutaredapple.Abeautiful,shinyredapple.Oh,howlonghasitbeensinceIhaveseenone!Shelookscautiouslytotheleftandtotheright,andthenwithasmileoftriumph,quicklythrowstheappleoverthefence.Iruntopickitup,holdingitinmytrembling,frozenfingers.Inmyworldofdeath,thisappleisanexpressionoflife,oflove.Iglanceupintimetoseethegirldisappearingintothedistance.Thenextday,Icannothelpmyself-Iamdrawnatthesametimetothatspotnearthefence.AmIcrazyforhopingshewillcomeagain?Ofcourse.Butinhere,Iclingtoanytinyscrapofhope.ShehasgivenmehopeandImustholdtightlytoit.Andagain,shecomes.Andagain,shebringsmeanapple,flingingitoverthefencewiththatsamesweetsmile.ThistimeIcatchit,andholditupforhertosee.Hereyestwinkle.Doesshe

pityme?Perhaps.Idonotcare,though.Iamjustsohappytogazeather.Andforthefirsttimeinsolong,Ifeelmyheartmovewith