Heartwarming Stories of Connection and Compassion

SMOKE SIGNALS by Dan Rolince, Golden, Colorado On a cool night lit only by the orange glow of fire, we rushed to my grandfather s home as his decades-old barn burned to the ground. The firemen let us stand nearby as they pumped water from the nearby river. We watched the barn go up in flames. It reminded me of jumping off wooden beams into the hay below. The real sadness came as my elderly grandfather, who did not get out of bed, quietly asked if his cows were safe. He hadn t had dairy cows in a dozen years. A SMALL FORTUNE by Ron Fleming, Fort Drum, New York While walking across an open, grassy field, I became excited as my hand swooped toward the ground like an eagle attacking its prey. I picked up half of a $5 bill. I continued to walk around looking for the other half but thought to myself it would be impossible to find it on such a windy day. As I lifted my head, I spotted the other half of the bill tangled in grass. Somehow, finding two halves of a ripped $5 bill felt better than working for a twenty.

SWEET SLEEP by Suzanne Cifarelli, Albany, New York Don t let her sleep in your bed. That s what I heard over and over after my daughter was born. So I didn t, unless she was sick. Now my baby is almost six, and every night, after we read and sing songs and turn off the light, I lie down with her before she falls asleep. We whisper to each other, and I watch her eyelids start to close. I smell her hair and kiss her forehead. And I wish I had done this every night. MY MASTERPIECE by Angela Bradley-Autrey, Deer Park, Washington I was four, playing outside in the humid Kentucky air. I saw my grandfather s truck and thought, Granddad shouldn t have to drive such an ugly truck. Then I saw a bucket of paint Idea! I got a brush and painted white polka dots all over the truck. I was on the roof finishing the job when he walked up, looking as if he saw a ghost. Angela, that s the prettiest truck I ve ever seen! Sometimes I think adults don t stop to see things through a child s eyes. He could have destroyed me. Instead, he lifted my little soul.

MONSTER PATROL Aaron Hampton, Seattle, Washington As a child, I had awful night terrors at one point, I stopped sleeping. Then my dad s younger brother lost his job and had to move in with us. Uncle Dave slept in the room next to mine. From then on, he was there to comfort me, sometimes even sleeping on the floor beside my bed (to keep the monsters away). After he got a job, he could have moved into a nice apartment, but I begged him not to go. When my parents asked why he was staying, he smiled and replied, Monsters. BACKUP BAND-AID Babette Lazarus, New York, New York I was riding the subway and I was seated between two young guys. The one on the right saw the slightly dirty Band-Aid on my thumb and said, You should really change that, you know. You have to keep it clean. Then the one on my left said, Here, I have one, and pulled a fresh Band-Aid out of his backpack. I keep them on me because I m always hurting myself. I thanked him, changed my bandage, and got off at my stop feeling pretty good about people, life, and New York City.

CLEAR EYES, FULL HEARTS by Stephanie Adair, Metairie, Louisiana Every day, upon picking up my 11-year-old son from school, I would ask, How was your day? For years, I got the same response Fine, fine with no eye contact. His autism made it impossible for me to have a normal conversation with him. One spring afternoon, I asked the same question, expecting the same answer. How was your day? My son replied, Good, good. Then he looked at me and said, How was your day, Mom? With tears flowing down my face, I said, It s really good the best day ever. THE BEST BAD HAIR DAY by Saveeta De Alwis, Colombo, Sri Lanka The air smelled strongly of salt. My boyfriend had asked me to meet him at the beach. I love the beach, but today the sea breeze really wasn t helping my hair. I was feeling grumpy as I made my way to the sea shore. I saw the light of candles in the distance, but couldn t make them out, as I d forgotten my glasses. Why couldn t he have picked another place for dinner? I walked up to him and was about to complain, when he suddenly got down on his knee and said, Will you marry me?

A Demonic Pact Billy San Juan There s a demon in my bedroom. It follows me with its fiery eyes, daring me to escape. I tried to run already, but he roared, and I fell. My arm landed on the corner of the dresser. I can already feel the bruise forming. It knows the bruise hurts. It knows to grab me by the arm, to squeeze the bruise. To cover my mouth with his clawed talon so I can t scream. I ve been trapped with this demon before, but I can usually escape. Not tonight. Tonight, I think I will die. I can t believe I married this man. I was tired of causing pain to those around me. So, I decided to jump from the rooftop to the sidewalk below. Soon, I found myself on the sidewalk, still alive, with the crushed body of a little girl beneath me. -anonymous

Duty, by Ella Craig 16/11/2019 We were happy, your mother and me. She was a good wife. Standing by the graveside, I nod in agreement because he never knew the truth. That s how good she was. Mom believed in her marriage: She knew about the other women and his drinking. Then one summer, daddy went away. She met Uncle Ted, and her joy and laughter filled me with hope. But daddy came home, and Ted disappeared. Mom stayed until the cancer took her. My father dabs at his fake tears, and I cry for my mother s wasted life. Shine by thegooddoctor in 100 Words Scrub scrub scrub the floor. Make it sparkle. Make it beam. Kneel on the floor, wash the tiles. Use the rag. Soak it up. Use the brush. Clean the cracks. Use the sponge. Get rid of the spot. Quick. Go quick. Before they come, before they notice. Faster. Go faster. Before it smells, before it stains. Scrub scrub scrub. No! No, there is still red! Pour more bleach. Make it shine. There should be no trace of dirt or dust. No trace of blood or guts. Ah! Finally. Clean. Shiny. Spotless. No one will know. Now, I need to deal with the body. From Guest Contributor Alexa Hulmes