The Good Deed

My sister Tina and I were very excited. We were doing our Good Deed, and we’d thought it up all by ourselves.

Tina wanted to bake cookies for our Good Deed, but Mom said that would be doing something for ourselves, not for somebody else. We had to admit she was right. Then I had a brilliant idea: we’d take the cookies-- well, some of them-- to Mrs. Owens, our grouchy old neighbor. We’d all be happy. Mom said it was a great plan.

We had to make oatmeal raisin, not chocolate chip, because we didn’t have any chocolate chips and we didn’t want to wait till another day. Oatmeal raisin aren’t as good, but they were better than waiting.

Tina said that a dozen cookies was probably all we should take to Mrs. Owens since she’s old and cookies might not be good for her. I agreed. Tina is pretty smart. After they had cooled, which took forever, Mom put them into a pretty tin box.

When we got to Mrs. Owens’ house, we climbed up her big wooden stairs and knocked loudly. We wanted to make sure she’d hear us. When she didn’t come to the door, we rang the doorbell and knocked some more. Then I saw her face at the window.

“What do you want?” she screeched at us.

“We brought you some cookies,” I said.

“We thought they might make you happy,” Tina added.

“Off my porch, you do-gooders! That’s all you are. What right do you have to try to take away my pain?”

Tina looked at me, and I looked at her.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” I said, and we took the cookies and ran.

Maybe leaving her alone with her pain would have to count as our Good Deed.


300 Words