Elizabeth Mary Anderson and Her Mama

This story got knocked out of the running for the topic, Current Events, this week.  Just a second too late.  Sad, huh?  So I'm sharing it here today.  I happened to catch a news story on Good Morning America yesterday that gave me the idea.  I wasn't even going to write an entry but it got me awake and my mind moving.  Parents and graduates were getting in major trouble for cheering excessively at graduation.  Can you imagination?  They were being fined, jailed, and some given community service.  Just crazy!  

Another idea I was going to write about was this new law about putting your dog in seat belts.  Another stiff fine if it's not done.  In many cases, it's a higher fine than if your children aren't buckled up.  Again, CRAZY!!  

Here's my story that was born from GMA and written two hours before it was due.  

Elizabeth Mary Anderson and Her Mama

My dad, he ain’t been in my life.  Just me and Mama struggled through.  She a good mama too.  There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed for school but Mama made me.  She even pulled the mattress out from under me one time.  I came up cussing and she ran and got the soap.  I ate a bar of Ivory for breakfast that day.  My sophomore year, she caught me running with a gang and I didn’t run nowhere for a month.  That ole gang, they scared of my mama after that.  She called their mama’s too.  There were lots of full pews in church that next Sunday.  I sure did feel holes burning in the backa my head though.

We did it!  Me and my momma.  It was a hard four years but she pulled and pushed me through high school.  Every night she stood over me while I did homework. 

Mama say, “Edu-cation important, Lissibeth.  You gonna make sumpin of youself if it kill both of us.”

Sometimes it did just that.  I felt murdered one hundred times over.  Mama a slave driver.  Weren’t no tv in our house.  No cable.  No computer.  I go to the library and work for hours and when I got home, Mama, she be home from work by then and have a meal ready for me then she make me read books, like To Kill a Mockingbird.  She say they good for me.

Mama don’t read.  She never learned.  Don’t know why.  She smart. When my homework done, I bring out Dr. Seuss and she read The Cat in the Hat.  She embarrassed but she also proud.  Proud I want to teach her.  Proud I’m not ashamed of her.   I would never ever be ashamed of Mama.  She my Rock. 

At night she ‘read’ the Bible to me.  It was years before I found out she wasn’t really reading it. Many parts she had memorized and others, she told the stories.   She sat in her rocking chair and the words spilled out.  I closed my eyes and pretended like I was right there.  Sometimes though, I be so tired, I fell asleep, then I felt Mama’s wrath.  She whacked me on the head and I sat up straight again and she picked up where she left off.  We both worked hard but Mama worked way harder. 

After I went to sleep, she stayed up and cleaned our little apartment.  I heard her working on her words in the book too.  I always left my homework out on our little kitchen table.  She opened it up and looked at it then I heard her pray over it every single night.  And she prayed for me.  My mama, she special.  I sure love my mama. 

So today, you see, is special for both of us.  We’re both up early.  She ironing my graduation gown and my dress I’m wearing underneath.  We searched every thrift store in Chicago looking for the perfect one.  We had so much fun.  I never saw Mama giggle like I did that day.  It like she graduating instead of me.  Wish she could stand up there with me.  I’d let her if she could.  She did it with me. 

“Lissie!  Getting’ late.  Getta move on!”

That my mama.  She just a little bit excited.  I gathered up my things.  It was time to get to the L for our trip to the school.

“Mama,” I had to talk loud above the other excited voices on the train.  “Remember, there’s no loud cheering when I walk across the stage.”

She just looked at me. 

“Said they enforcing it this year.  They mean it.”

Mama grinned.   She’s so excited.  I can’t take this away from her.  This her graduation as much as it is mine.  If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.  I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.  “I love you, Mama.  Thank you for everything.”

She smiled a big white toothy grin.  That’s my mama.

Elizabeth Mary Anderson

And she did it.  Sweet Mama stood and hooted.  She hollered.  She whistled. 

The school…they good on their word.

My sweet mama.  She taken away in handcuffs.  

Her crime:   She too loud. 

Really?  My Mama?

I demanded handcuffs on me too. 

We in jail right now.  She teach me my about civil rights and the greats like Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr…    

Mama always say school never ends.

I  love my mama. 

******************

Author’s Note:

http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com/2012/06/06/parents-dont-cheer-at-graduation-you-could-get-arrested-116763

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100 Words

Jan Ackerson has a very unusual blog.  She writes each post in only 100 words.  I thought I would try my hand.  It's not as easy as it looks.  Mine is below but make sure you go take a look at Jan's blog called, One Hundred Words.  She's also hosting a writing contest right now too.  It's over the 26th so you better hurry to get in on that!

8:00-3:25

I brace myself for the onslaught of noise that will soon regal my senses from the moment the students enter until I can legally send them home.  I pick out their individual voices as they come down the hallway, just as a mother knows her own child’s voice on the playground.

My name, along with a poke on my arm, in case I’m suddenly hearing-impaired, starts each of their sentences and my day. 

“Mrs. Huuubrich, tttthe Bbbears wwwwoon.”

“Mrs. Hubrich, Dougie thinks he’s the boss of me...” 

I hand out hugs, admonishments, and high-fives from 8:00-3:25.  

Welcome to my world!

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Friday Fiction - Yeah, What Then?

This was a FW entry I wrote months ago before I ever went to Special Touch Camp.  I spent lots of time with a mother and son through baseball who I set this story around.  She's an awesome mother/caregiver.  I've written much about the camp and all that goes on there, but I haven't really thought too much about the parents who take care of their adult children with disabilities. They need many hugs and prayers if you know of any in your church or community.  They are truly special people.  And please, if any parents have had to put their children in group homes, don't judge them, either.  I'm sure it's best for both parents and the children and was a hard fought decision.  There are awesome group homes!  Anyway, here is my story - Yeah, What Then?



Fifteen-year-old Travis burst into the kitchen holding his art work high in the air. “Mom! Out-standing!”

“Alright!” Sally gave him a high-five then patted him on the back side. Very nice work, Buddy.” She hung it on the refrigerator beside his twin brother’s A+ Geometry test.

Trenton stormed into the room. He bumped into Travis on his way to the fridge then stuck his head in deep and pulled out a soda.

Sally put her hand on his shoulder and he shook it off. “What’s up with you, Trent? Bad day at the office?”

“Ha-ha, Mom.”

Travis stood beside him and pointed. “See my out-standing paper, Brother?”

“I see it,” Trenton growled, “and don’t call me brother.”

Travis grabbed hold of himself and hummed.

“Trent didn’t mean it, did you Trent?” Sally gave him her most piercing glare.

“I have homework.” Travis started to walk away but in a sudden spark of compassion, turned and the twin-ness overwhelmed him. “Good job, Trav.”

Travis lunged at Trenton leaving a major drool trail in his wake and spilling soda on Trenton’s white tshirt.

“Uho, Trav, not such a happy face. Keep that mouth closed, remember?” Sally wiped off the drool.

“Trenton, go on upstairs and we’ll talk later. Be prepared.”

Travis poked Trenton in the arm and echoed his mom’s words, “Yeah, beeee prepared.”

Trenton put his head down and muttered as he walked away, “Shut up, Retard.”

“I heard that,” Sally called up after him.

“Heard dat,” the echo followed him up the stairs.

***

Sally prayerfully made her way up to Trent’s room. “Headphones off, Son. What’s going on with you lately?” Sally moved away a pile of books and settled herself on his bed.

“It’s hard having Travis for a brother, you know?”

“You’ve been brothers your whole life. What’s different now?”

Trenton thought for a second. “I guess me. Mom, I failed a history test and I come home to see a page that Travis scribbled and there’s a big OUTSTANDING on it. Are you kidding me? I spent hours studying for that test and Trav kept bugging me. School’s getting harder and he’s in my way.”

“You know, it’s hard on him, too, being a twin brother to a genius.”

“Ha! I’m no genius.”

“You are to him. You’re the most important person in his world. It could have just as easily been you that had the defective gene.”

“I know. Maybe it shoulda been me. He’s a better person than I am, that’s for sure. He always forgives me when I’ve been a moron. He never yells. He blames himself when I get mad at him.”

Sally poked him. “He is pretty outstanding, huh?”

Trenton laughed, “Seems to be the word for the day.”

Sally curled up beside her son; she wrapped her arms around his waist; and she whispered in his ear. “I think you’re pretty outstanding, too.”

“You have to say that.”

Sally smiled, enjoying the sweetness of the moment.

“Mom, doesn’t it ever make you sad having to take care of Travis? You have to wipe away his drool and wipe his butt after he poops. You have to help him get dressed and wash his hair. What if something happens to you and Dad? What then?”

Tears pooled in Sally’s eyes. “Yeah, what then?”

Trenton burrowed in closer to her.

“Your dad and I talk about that all the time: the why’s, the what if’s, the what then’s. Maybe I’m in denial but I just want to focus on the outstanding’s right now, okay?”

“Sure, Mom, I get it.” The two sat quietly, snuggled in close until Trenton broke the silence. Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m too old to snuggle like this. You know that, right?”

“I know but you’re letting me and I went with it.”

“Know what else, Mom?”

“I’m so tired. I don’t even have the energy to guess right now so why don’t you just tell me.”

“You’re pretty outstanding yourself.”

Sally sat up in bed and fixed her hair. “I am, aren’t I? It’s time for this outstanding Mom to go fix two outstanding boys and one outstanding Dad a super outstanding dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Well, I’d say outstanding, but that would sound super stupid. How about, good, cuz I’m starving!”

“Okay. You, do homework. Dinner at seven. And Trent, please be nice to your brother from now on.”

“You are too funny, Mom. Brothers are never nice but I’ll tone it down some. I promise.”

Head on over to Dancin' in the rain to read more Friday Fiction stories.  I'm sure you won't be disappointed!

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6-5-0

Mari is hosting a special edition of Christmas Friday Fiction.  Go over to her blog to read some great stories.  Merry Christmas everyone!

6-5-0

“Nat, don’t wake us up until seven, okay? That’s the earliest,” her mom warned as she tucked her into bed. 

Natalie looked at her funny. 

Her mom repeated, “I mean it. Not 5:30. Not 6:00. Seven o’clock. Got it?”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said after a big sigh. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. Christmas will be here before you know it. It’s just a dream away.”

A dream away. That’s what Natalie thought about as she drifted off to sleep. She dreamt of presents piled high under the tree. She dreamt of Barbie dolls and Easy Bake Ovens. She dreamt of singing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus as she shared a big piece of cake with Him. Before she knew it, a little sun had peeked in through her window. It was morning. She shot straight up and checked the clock. 

Too early. It was too early. Natalie lay back down. She fiddled with her blankie until it was in several knots. She sat up and flopped back down. She thought about what it would be like to have a brother or sister to wait with. Surely that would be much more fun. 

Natalie sat at the edge of her bed. Her bare feet hung down, almost touching her fuzzy pink bunny slippers. She eyed the alarm clock with disdain as she thought about the conversation with her mom just the night before.

She knew she would be in trouble if she went even a minute before seven o’clock but waiting was so very hard for a five-year-old. 

She got up from her bed and peeked out the window. Her footed PJ’s kept her warm as she watched soft white snow flakes fall from the sky. The first snow of the season is a perfect Christmas present straight from God to her and every other child in the city. She pressed her nose to the cool window. This made her shiver.

She scooted back into bed and got under the covers. She eyed the clock again. It was not much later than all the other times she looked. She sighed. She twirled her hair. She unknotted her blanket. 

Natalie began the Christmas countdown the beginning of December. It seemed to go so slow she could hardly stand it. But this – this was so much worse. This countdown to seven was a killer. 

She sat up and took a good long look at the clock again. Surely it must be time… but no, only another minute had passed. Wrapped up in her blanket, she closed her eyes and started talking to Jesus. 

“Happy birthday, Jesus. I’m excited it’s finally here. Mommy won’t let me wake her up yet. Jesus? I need to ask You something. Is it the same if I get up but don’t wake my parents?” Natalie sat quietly. She listened to see if Jesus happened to answer her. 

She lay back down. She sat up. She looked again. Frowned…lay back down…got back up. This time she went to the door and opened it just a bit. She listened. All she could hear were snores coming from her Daddy. She turned around and looked at the clock again and gave it a cross-eyed stare. She looked up, as if giving Jesus a last chance to chime in with His answer. Hearing none, she opened the door wider and slipped out. 

The hallway was darker than she expected. She wasn’t used to being up this early by herself. She tip-toed past her parent’s room; listened, and then crept on by. She set her mind on her goal… the Christmas tree. She stood in wide-eyed wonder as she looked at the decorated room. A pink bike sat in the corner. She ran over to it and felt the smooth seat. She itched to ring the bell but didn’t. 

The old cuckoo clock started to chirp and scared her spit less. She stopped in her tracks and counted. One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… Seven. It was seven o’clock! She ran back down the hallway and rushed into her parent’s room without even bothering to knock. 

“Mommy! Daddy! It’s seven o’clock. She jumped onto the bed and made a big splash, and almost spilled her Daddy out of the water bed. 

“Merry Christmas, Nat,” her daddy croaked with his deep morning voice. 

“Oh Daddy. I’ve been up forever. I didn’t think it would ever get to be seven. I’ve been up since 6-5-0.”

“6-5-0 huh? That is a long time. Merry Christmas, NatNat.”

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Friday Fiction - 5 AM

It's been awhile, but I got an editor's choice for this week's story (5th place!) - 5 AM. The topic was smell.  I thought I would share it and am posting at Sara's blog today with other awesome stories you can read.

5 AM

My grandson, Cal, sat close beside me as I started my story.

“I remember it like it was yesterday, the day my own grandpa decided I was old enough to start to understand life. You with me, Cal?”

“I’m with you, Grandpa.” 

I watched Cal hunker down into his chair and close his eyes. He loved this story and I certainly didn’t want to tell it wrong or I’d never hear the end of it. 

I settled in, eyes closed, and my mind drifted back to when I was Cal’s age and spent the night with my grandfather




“I heard heavy footsteps outside my door and soon he stood over me. I opened one eye but it was still dark outside.

“‘Up and at ’em, Bobby.’

“‘You sure you’re not sleep walkin’ or somethin’, Gramps?’

“He laughed then picked me up and set me on the cool floor. ‘No, not sleep walking. Grams has breakfast for us.’

“He stood beside me while I stuck my legs in my Levis, then he helped me cinch up my belt. ‘Today’s a special day. I want you to know what farm life is really like, from the early morning on through the day. Think you can handle that?’

“I was a little confused; especially considering I snuck a peak at the clock and it said five. ‘Guess so.’

“‘You’ll do whatever I ask?’

“‘Sure, Gramps.’

“I followed him down the hall. He stopped on the landing. I bumped right into him. Good thing I wasn’t a little bigger and heavier or he would have toppled down.




Cal giggled. 






“‘What do you smell, Bobby?’

“I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and stretched my arms with a loud yawn. ‘Yum…bacon.’

“‘Your Grams wakes up early everyday just so she can make sure I have a good breakfast before I go do chores. She’s a good woman, Bobby. My prayer is for you to find a wife just as good or better.”

“I shivered. Thinking about a wife about made me want to pass up breakfast. ‘Bluck. Girls.’

“Gramps laughed. ‘Okay, no more girl talk. You remember your grandma, though, when the time comes that you like girls. Got it?’ He ruffled my hair and went down the steps. I followed right behind, but stayed far enough back in case he stopped fast again.

“He kissed Grams on the lips, right in front of me. My cheeks got red. 

“‘Give your grams a kiss and hug, Bobby, and take a big whiff.’

“I trudged over thinking I was too big to be handing out smooches but I promised to do what he said. I brushed her cheek fast and gave her a half-hearted hug then she grabbed me and doused my face and neck with kisses. I breathed in deep and smiled.

“‘She smells like mornin’.’





“Cal, your great-grandma had a fresh, clean, soapy, just-took-a-shower kinda smell.”

“That’s what Grandma smells like.”

I smiled then got back into my story-mode.






“We ate breakfast quick then we stepped down into our work boots. The air was a bit chilly, up with the birds like we were. Gramps took my hand and walked me right dab into a cornfield. The blades smacked me in the face so Gramps hefted me onto his shoulders. I could see the world from up there.

“‘Smell deep, son.’

“I took a deep breath. ‘Smells sweet.’

“‘That’s the smell of money.’

“‘It’s corn.’

“‘Once it’s ready, we sell it.’

“‘Oh, farm money smell.’







“Exactly.” Cal said that with me. He knew the story better than I did.

“Cal, just like Gramps told me, this place will be yours one day. It’s important you appreciate what’s around you.”

Cal stood up and wrapped his chubby arms around my neck and breathed in. 

“I’ll always remember your smell, Grampa,” he said as he plugged his nose.

“What a funny kid. Now, where was I?”

Cal shushed me. “My turn.”

And off he went, telling me my own story until the smell of popcorn stopped him. 

“Gramps, smell that?”

I grinned. “Last one to the kitchen gets to wash the dishes for Grandma!”

Cal was lots quicker than me. I followed in his wake, happy that the new memories made with Cal were just as sweet or sweeter than my own childhood memories. 

Cal peeked around the corner. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you do the dishes, Slowpoke!”

I smiled. I wonder if he’ll tell his own grandson stories about us? “Coming, Cal.”

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O, Carl! -- Friday Fiction

I'm shocked to see I haven't posted anything since last Friday's FF.  Wow.  Anyway, here I go, posting my FW challenge entry from last week (Topic - See) I placed in the top 40 for this story - phew, been awhile (#25) and Mari's was #24:) I've been watching reruns of The Donna Reed show on Hulu.  When you watch them all in a row like that, it's funny what you notice.  Almost every episode, Donna is icing a cake:)  Hilarious.  Anyway, go visit Sharlyn's blog for more awesome FF stories:)

O Carl!

The candles softly glowed in the dark house, reflecting off the china set for two. Katie admired the ambiance she created, dressed in her best dress and high heels. 

She looked at the clock on the mantle. “Food will be done soon,” she muttered. “Carl’s supposed to be here.” The young bride tripped into the kitchen, unaccustomed to the heels, and checked the roast. 

“It’s not the way it’s supposed to be, Carl Rogers,” she whispered. She spread homemade icing over the newly cooled triple-chocolate-delight cake. “This is when you’re supposed to come in and steal a lick from the bowl and give me a kiss on the cheek.” 

Kate emptied the oven and filled the table with her culinary delights, a week’s worth of planning and practicing. As the minutes ticked by, her sweet disposition quickly faded. 

She kicked off her shoes and lost the dress, replacing it with old sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt. Katie lay on the floor, her bare feet stuck up in the air, the small television in front of her. She put in the next episode of The Donna Blade Show and lost herself in the perfection of the housewife. “No wonder Carl is late. I’m not good enough for him,” she thought. 

Raised in a group home, she had no clue what a wife’s household life was truly like. She ‘schooled’ herself the only way she knew how, with videos, videos she found at her out-dated public library in her small town. 

“My hair’s always a mess. I can’t seem to walk in those dang heels, and panty hose give me a rash. I don’t know why Carl ever married me. What was he thinking?” Tears fell as she watched the Dear Doctor gather up his wife into an embrace and kiss her on the lips. 

She laid her head down and soon drifted off to sleep. Her dreams were filled with dainty aprons and perfectly coiffed hair. 

Carl traipsed into the house, none too quiet. He threw his jacket over a dining room chair and left his shoes in the middle of the floor. “Kate? You here?”

She lifted up onto one elbow and called to her Prince, “In here.”

He lay down beside her, “What’cha watching?”

“Old shows. Why do you love me, Carl? I don’t understand it.”

He moved a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “What? I love you because you’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. Why are you asking?”

“Just look at Donna. She’s perfect. She never sweats when she cleans. She has supper ready every night and it never burns. Have you ever seen what she looks like in the mornings?” Kate sat up and crossed her legs Indian style. “Perfect, that’s how. She’s fully dressed and wide awake. She has breakfast ready for her husband as he walks into the room. How come nothing I do turns out right?”

“It’s not your fault I’m late. I see I ruined your romantic dinner. I’m sorry, Honey, but I’m getting tired of them. I’d be happier eating a sandwich in front of the television with you beside me, sweats and all. Honestly.” He smiled at her.

“Your mom didn’t cook like this all the time? The way she talks, she was the perfect housewife and said she expected the same from me.”

Carl laughed. “No, Mom wasn’t like that. She stuck a frozen pizza in the oven and called it good. We were happy. You know what? It’s time we got cable. We can afford it now. You need to lose the old shows and watch the new ones. They’ll teach you how to be a bit sassy instead of all this sweetness you’ve been laying on me.” He grinned at her.

“You want sassy, Carl Rogers, I’ll give you sassy. You need to go pick up that coat and put your shoes away. I’ve been working all day cleaning this house and look what you do. Just look!” 

Carl grinned mischievously. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and brought her down to his level. “You think Donna-What’s-Her-Name ever experienced this from her doctor husband?” 

“Oh, Carl!” She grabbed the remote to turn off the television.

“Leave it be, Honey. It’s just the perfect amount of light.”

Katie giggled, “I’ve never seen an episode like this.”

“Honey, we don’t watch those kind of shows. You’re no Donna, that’s for sure. I love you Katie Rogers, just the way you are.”

“Oooooh Carl!”

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FearNot

Today is Friday Fiction day, since today is Friday afterall:) Rick's Pod Tales and Ponderings blog is hosting today.

This story was written in March, 2008. I still deal with fear and laying down burdens for God to handle. A constant battle for sure.  I hope you enjoy this tale.

FearNot

Once upon a time, in a not-so-distant past, a girl was born. Her parents named her Aimee, which means loved. Her mother and Father were kind and gentle with this fair-haired maiden. She was not given to, in the sense that the world gives. Her parents gave her gifts of compassion, tenderness, and joy. She also experienced a love that surpassed anything anyone could imagine.

This land was only a small part of what her Father owned. The rest of His Kingdom was not mentioned, not ever, and she never asked. Everything this maiden would want was here, in the confines of this beautiful place, this place without war, sickness, and famine; this place called FearNot.

Aimee was loved by all. She taught children to read and sing funny songs. They ran up and down the streets, holding hands, squealing in delight. When not playing, she spent hours at her Father's feet, soaking in His Presence. He delighted in her company.

One day, as she skipped along a deserted path lined with trees bowed under with the weight of ripe fruit, she came across a troll standing at a bridge. Aimee had never seen such a thing before. In fact, she had never seen this bridge, not once in her many years she had walked this way.

The troll caught her eye. He used a sing-songy voice to catch her attention. "Come here, Litt-le Aim-ee."

She stopped and observed this creature. He had an over-sized head with eyes that blinked constantly, in rhythm to the rushing stream. His feet were large with three toes sticking out of holey socks. His clothes were rags that served only to cover his anatomy.

Aimee continued to walk.

The troll called out to her again, "Aim-ee. A child needs you."

Sitting beside the troll was a young girl; scraggly brown bangs covered her small face. Aimee could see hunger in her eyes and she ached for her. Being a compassionate maiden and since she was the daughter of the King, she bent down, without fear, and talked to this little one.

"What's wrong with you, My Sweets? Why are you hungry when there is fruit all around?"

The troll laughed in delight. "Oh, my Lady, we are not allowed to enter FearNot. In order for you to help My Pretty, you must cross over to our side."

"And what do you call your side, do tell?"

The little girl whispered, "ToadSuck, my Lady."

Aimee pulled an apple off the tree and looked beyond the bridge. The road was lined with young children, and all looked expectantly at the fruit in her hand. She gathered mounds of apples into her apron and, without thinking, crossed the bridge. Her heart broke. Little ones, covered with bruises and broken limbs sat and gawked at her with tears in their eyes.

She walked the pathway, handing out fruit, until she came upon a village. There, she cared for the sick and tended the peasant's wounds. She turned against her Father and wouldn't allow herself to go back home. "Why would He allow this to happen? Why are there needy ones in ToadSuck when we have much abundance in FearNot?"

In the quiet of the night, Aimee could be heard crying into her pillow. She felt a separation from her Father to her very core. The girl held her stomach, rolled into a ball, and wailed. She wouldn't allow her Father to carry this load. She wanted to do it alone. Day after day she cared for these people and she began to look and act more like the ones she cared for.

One day, she walked down the road; gray, wrinkled, and stooped. Aimee looked across the rickety bridge to FearNot and wished she had never left her Father's Kingdom. She ached to feel her Father's touch, see His smile.

On the other side of the bridge, Her Father caught her eye. He said, "Come here, Litt-le Aim-ee."

Aimee stopped. She hardly dared to believe that He spoke.

He called again, "Aim-ee."

Relief filling her body, she ran to her Father and leapt into His arms. They wept together, mourning their long separation. They wept with joy in their reunion.

She suddenly remembered what she had left behind and was saddened. "Father, the children, why are the children hungry? Won't you please help the people in ToadSuck?"

She heard giggling coming from the forest. Aimee watched in delight as children came running across the bridge. They climbed onto her Father's back, giggling. They mussed His hair and little ones grabbed hold of his legs. They were all well-fed and happy.

It was then she understood that she did have a job to do. Caring for these people was her life's work, but carrying burdens was up to her Father. As she let the little ones play, unhindered, she felt a weight lift off her body. Her wrinkles disappeared and she now stood straight and strong.

From that day and forever after, the people of ToadSuck were warmly welcomed in the land of FearNot.

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