What an interesting piece about kindness. Is it really an essay? I'm not so sure. I'm also not totally sure that wishing that your friend's feelings are in harmony with yours has anything to do with kindness. Kindness would want your friend to feel whatever is right for him or her, not what makes you comfortable.
Well....sometimes insults are not really insults. They are kernels of truth that you might not want to hear.
Be that as it may, we baby boomers learned two very important lessons.
#1
Sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt you. Unless you let them.
#2
It's very important that you encourage people who win, even if they won against you. God doesn't want us coveting our neighbor's stuff. Or their successes.
We have equal opportunities but we will never have equal outcomes because we were born with different talents and we have different levels of ability, different levels of ambition, etc.
What an adorable story. That last part is perfect. Who is supposed to drink the love potion?
And:
Love wasn't as easy as in the stories!
Amen to that!
The love potion sounds absolutely horrible, but it wouldn't harm anyone.
I've always wondered what it would have been like to be the youngest sister. As the oldest, I really tried to show kindness to my sisters, even when they jumped on my boyfriends, kicking them where it hurts.
I love your short reads, including this one. Readying myself for the twist, I figured it out as soon as you mentioned what was in her room. It had to be her, and it was.
I used to read a women's weekly magazine that had similar stories in it, and I loved them. Ever since that publication died, I have missed those stories. It's fun reading yours.
Bless your heart. This is a poignant reminder of what it's like to be a shy, scared teenage girl. Believe it or not, there are many who have come before you and both survived and thrived.
You have written this well. I would suggest that you choose some genres for your creation, though. People look for reading material in many different ways. If you want to be read, you will want to take advantage of making your writings seen in every way that you can.
I was once a shy girl who would rather take a failing grade than speak up in class. In my 20s, I took a job that required that I speak in front of 300 angry homeowners to explain why their homeowner's association fees had increased. And in my 30s. I became a regional sales director and spoke at training events and sales rallies with little problems.
BTW, the older you get, the less you care about what other people think.
This is history beautifully described in poetic form. I had to look at his date that you shared it, because it appears that you have more faith in people today than I have.
I do love your word crafting. Like this:
The ink kissed the parchment, and history was made
What heart felt words you have created here. I was touched. I would suggest that you take advantage of using the three genres. Sometimes, people search for something to read that way.
About the topic of your piece. If what you shated is true, for your sake and the sake of your friend, I hope that you can confide in a local adult about this.
Hitting the "Read and review" button often randomly takes me to someone's "Dear Me Letter" from years ago. And here I am.
First, let me say that I am sorry for your loss. With this writing, your loss was still new.
But secondly, I want to say how impressed I was with your letter. You so clearly mapped out your goals for the entire year ahead of you. Now I wonder how many of them you were able to achieve.
Your titles and description artfully drew me in. As usual, your poetic skills shown brightly.
But I was focused on one line in particular, the one with the word "masterly". I don't believe that I have ever read that word in any story or poem before. In fact, my mind automatically read "masterfully".
I spent a few minutes reading about the difference between the words masterly, masterful and masterfully. I thank you for sending me on that expedition. Grandma always said that we should learn something new every day.
I love that you wrote this poem asking your plant to reveal to you the exact amount of water that is required to keep it alive and thriving. You inquired of it how much is too much or too little.
And it appears that talking to your plant, asking it about itself has been enough.
You've offered some great advice for parenting Asian teens. I was going to say that the advice might also apply to most parents of teens, but perhaps not.
American teens are an unusual bunch. When my son was 15, he was almost unmanageable. The youth leader in our church informed me that 15 year old boys are like having a terrible two year old all over again. And she told me that once they are back to normal, they really love their moms. She was right about that.
I did notice something that you should fix:
Parents of teenage children usually have a lot of complains
For some, the word might appear to just be the end of a prayer, much like "sincerity yours" is the end of a letter. But amen is so much more than that.
Yes, it can be a quiet end to a private whispered prayer. Or it can be a loud exclamation.
You give some wise advice and ask important questions in your essays.
I think that we don't teach young people to love learning or to find solutions to problems. Instead, they are often taught to expect someone else or even the government to solve everything.
Many of us, including the founding fathers, would disagree with your interpretation of the second amendment.
One has to look at the amendment with the understanding of how the people at the time wrote, remembering what commas, semicolons and clauses meant.
The important thing is to remember that we have God given rights and the founding fathers wrote to explain to the government that they cannot take away those rights. "Shall not be infringed" means exactly that.
You've written beautifully about God answering or not answering prayers.
I was reminded of a Christian women's conference that I attended about 25 years ago. When the topic was prayer, the leader suggested that we all keep a prayer journal. It's interesting to see that a prayer that you prayed is answered 6 months or a year or 5 years later.
Thanks for sharing your creativity and your faith.
You have explained the importance of fellowship quite well. I'm always saddened by people who say that they are devout Christians but who admit to having not been in a church for years or even decades. The Bible clearly tells us to not neglect meeting together.
In many churches when you join, you promise to give your time, talents and treasure. Sitting at home while the church down the street clearly needs Sunday school teachers is questionable.
And therein lies the reason that we cannot always just snatch a few words and think that we have gleaned their meaning. Context is important.
That being said, and having had a brother who spent 25+ years on and off as a homeless man, I learned this lesson. Do not give money to homeless people. Take them to a restaurant to eat or to a motel to sleep and pay the proprietors.
I loved your poem. As I read it aloud, I enjoyed the whimsy. It also reminded me of my cousin who passed away.
Said cousin was a psychologist himself who diagnosed his own problem as Seasonal Affective Disorder, which refers to the depression some people get in the winter. I argued with him that anyone who loved cold and snow as much as he did could not possibly have the disorder.
Good story. As soon as you wrote that she made a wide turn, I knew that would not end well. Then, when your character answered the police officer with her usual answer, I knew that wouldn't go well either.
You've written your story well. I wouldn't change a thing.
Thanks for sharing.
Blessings,
Kenzie
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