User talk:Rinkashika

A BIG OLD GRIN --

Sometimes the lessons that you learn in life come from the people you least expect them from. My little brother, Jimmy, is twelve years old. He's also mentally and physically handicapped. He had a stroke before he was born, and parts of his body ( his toes and his brain) didn't completely form. But even though those things aren't completely what they should be, I think Jimmy made up for it in the area of his heart. When we go out in public, there are people who stare at us, who won't even come near us, because they're afraid-- afraid of my baby brother. I've seen kids as little as four stick out their tongues and make evil little faces at him as though he weren't even human. But Jimmy never gets angry. He doesn't beat them up or hate them forever. He just give them a big old grin. I'ts amazing to watch. First, his big, brown eyes grow sparkly, and the corners of his mouth began to twitch. Then, when his smile does break, and his small, white teeth peek through those lips, it's as if the sun has broken through the clouds. Some people say they feel sorry for Jimmy and that i'ts too bad he isn't "normal." But you know what? In a way, I wish everyone on this earth was like my brother. Because no matter how mean people are to him, he always has a smile. So now, if people are mean to me or make fun of me, I just give them a big old grin, because I've learned from my little brother that i'ts not how much your brain has developed, or how many toes you have, i'ts how much your heart feels and how big a smile you wear.

TREASURE: Treasure Each day is a treasure box of gifts from God, just waiting to be opened. Open your girts with excitement. You will find forgiveness attached to ribbons of joy. You will find love wrapped in sparkling gems.

- kashi-

FOR MY SISTER

There is a true story of a little boy whose sister needed a blood transfusion.The doctor expalined that she had the same disease the boy had recovered from two years earlier. Her only chance of recovery was a transfusion from someone who had previously conquered the disease. Since the two children had the same rare blood type, the boy was an ideal donor. "Would you give your blood to Mary?" the doctor asked. Johnny hesitated. His lower lip started to tremble. Then he smiled and said "Sure,for my sister." Soon the two children were wheeled into the hospital room. Mary, pale and thin. Johnny, robust and healthy. Neither spoke, but when their eyes met, Johnny grinned. As the nurse inserted the needle into his arm, Johnny's smile faded. He watched the blood flow through the tube. With the ordeal almost over, Johnny's voice, slightly shaky, broke the silence. "Doctor, when do I die?" Only the doctor realize why Johnny had hesitated, why his lip had trembled when he agreed to donate his blood. He thought giving his bloood to his sister would mean giving up his life. In that brief moment, he had made his great decision.

PICKING UP THE PIECES ---	When I was in ninth grade, a boy started dating my best friend. Just like that. One day he was walking me to my locker; and the next day, he was walking my best friend to her locker. "We're not going together anymore!" he announced, and in the same breathe added, "I'm going with Tammy now." I didn't know how to "fix it." I didn't know what to think or how to feel. Should I be mad at him? Angry with my best friend? How should I explain it to my friends? I was clear about one thing: I hurt all over. No one, not even my Friend or brothers or sisters or parents really knew how deeply I was hurting. I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to go to soccer practice. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to talk with anyone about it---certainly not my parents. Now that it stopped them from asking. Nothing that I was upset at just about everyone and everything. Mom asked, "Would you talk about what's bothering you?" "No!" I cried. "Talking can make it better," Mom reminded me. "I'ts just about my stupid best friend. I'll be okay," I said, hoping I didn't have to explain anymore. She didn't ask again, no doubt assuming that I'd tell her about it when I was ready. In themeantime, my parents were extra kind and tried to give me space I needed; like a couple of times they allowed me to eat dinner in my room rather than coming to the dinner table. After about a week or so of my still being tearful, my mother stepped up her inspection of the issue. "I can see you are suffering over this," she said. "I think we should talk about it." "Oh,Mom," I cried. "It hurts too much to talk about it!." "Yes, honey," she soothed. "I can see that you are 	hurting." "Why does it hurt so much?" I asked. "Pain is God's way of saying your heart is broken." "I don't need God to tell me my heart is broken," I cried. "I just need him to fix it." "Well," my mother counseled tenderly, "better give him all the pieces. God can't fix your broken heart if you 	don't give the pieces to him." I'll always remember those beautiful words: "God can't fix a broken heart if you don't give him all the pieces."

LIVE -	          Live. Love and cherish life. Make friends, memories and plans. You're life is about you, but life is not about you. Fall in love. Love the fall and winter and spring and summer. Ski, Skate, sing and dance. Smell the rain and the chocolate chip cookies. Take all the time you need, but don't waste it. Catch the big one with your dad. Go on that trip with your mom. Love children, for you were once one. Learn from your elders,and one day you'll have their wisdom. Seek the truth. Find it in yourself, others and the God of your faith. Be patient and gentle. Most of all, truly live.

LOVE'S SACRIFICE ---

Going to an affluent high school wasn't easy. I watched with envy as many of the "rich" kidsdrove their parents sports car and bragged about where they bought their designer clothes. I knew there was never a chance for me to compete with their wealthy status, but I also knew that it was near a crime if you wore the same outfit twice in the same month. Coming from a family of five, with a tight bugdet, allowed us little hope for style. That didn't stop me from badgering my parents that I needed more fashionable clothes. My mother would frown at me. "Do you need them?." "YES," I would say adamantly. "I need them." So,shopping we would go. My mom waited outside the dressing room while I tried on the nicest clothes we could afford. I can recall several of these "necessity trips." Mom always went without complaining, never trying anything on for herself, though she'd look. One day, when I was home, I tried on one of my new outfits and modeled it in front of my parents full-lenght mirror. As I was deciding what shoes looked best with the outfit, my eyes wandered to their closet, which was partially open. What I saw bought tears to my eyes. Three shirts hung on my mom's side of the closet. Three shirts that she'd worn endlessly and were old and faded. I pulled open the closet farther to see a few work shirts of my dad's that he'd worn for years. It had been ages since they bought anything for themselves, though their need was greater than mine. That moment openend my eyes to see the sacrifices my parents had made over the years, sacrifices that showed me their love more powerfully than any words they could have say.

-Nine Words- Never forget the nine most important words of any family I love you. You are beautiful. Please forgive me.

- KASHI -

MOM ---

4 years :	My Mom can do anything. 7 years :	My mom knows a lot, a whole a lot. 8 years : 	My Mother doesn't know quiet everything. 12 years:	Oh,well, naturally Mother doesn't know that, either. 14 years:	Mother? Hopelessly old-fashioned. 21 years: 	Oh, that woman is out of date. What did you expect? 25 years:	She knows a little bit about it, but not much. 30 years:	Maybe we ought to find out what Mom thinks. 35 years: 	A little patience. Let's get Mom's assesment before we do anything. 50 years:	I wonder what Mom would have thought about that.She was pretty smart. 60 years: 	My Mom knew absolutely everything. 65 years:	I'd give anything if Mom were here so I could talk this over with him. I really miss that woman.

LOVE LETTERS TO MY UNBORN CHILD

It was balmy summer day in late July. I had been feeling rather queasy and nauseated, so I decided to see my doctor. "Mrs. Hayes, I'm happy to tell you that you are ten weeks pregnant," my doctor announced. I couldn't believe my ears. It was a dream come true. My husband and I were young and had been married for only a year. We were working hard to build a happy life together. The news that we were expecting a baby was exciting and scary. In my youthful enthusiasm I decide to write "love letters" to our baby to express my feelings of expectancy amd joy. Little did I know just how valuable those love letters would be in years to come. August 1971: oh, my darling baby, can you feel the love that I have for you while you are so small and living in the quiet world inside my body? Your daddy and I want the world to be perfect for you with no hate, no wars, no pollution. I can't wait to hold you in my arms just in six months! I love you, and Daddy loves you but he can't feel you yet. September 1971: I am four months pregnant and am feeling better. I can tell you are growing, and I hope you are well and comfortable. I've been taking vitamins and eating healthy foods for you. Thank goodness my morning sickness is gone. I think about you all the time. October 1971: Oh, these melancholy moods. I cry so often over so little. Sometimes I feel very alone, and then I remember you are growing inside of me. I feel you stirring, now tumbling and turning and pushing. I'ts never the same. Your movements always bring me so much joy! November 1971: I am feeling much better now than my fatigue and nausea have passed. The intense heat of summer is over. The weather is lovely, crisp and breezey. I feel your movements often now. Constant punching and kicking. What elation to know your alive and well. Last week Daddy and I heard your strong heartbeat at the doctor's office. February 2, 1972: at 11:06 p.m: You were born! We named you Sasha. It as a long, hard twenty-two hour labor, and your daddy helped me relax and stayed calm. We are so happy to see you, to hold you, and to greet you. Welcome, our firstborn child. We love you so much! Sasha was soon one year old and cautiously toddling all over the house. Then she was riding ponies and swinging in the sunshine at the park. Our little blue eyed beauty entered kindergarden and grew into a bright and strong-willed little girl. The years passed so quickly that my husband and I joked that we put our five-year-old daughter to bed one night and she woke up the next morning as a teenager. Those few years of adolescence and rebellion were not easy. There were times my beautiful yet angry teenager would dig her feet into the ground and yell, " I hate you! You never loved me! You don't care about me or want me to be happy!" Her harsh words cut at my heart. What could I have done wrong? After one of my daughter's angry outbursts, I suddenly remembered the little box of love letters tucked away in my bedroom closet. I found them quietly placed them on her bed, hoping she would read them. A few days later, she appeared before me with tears in her eyes. "Mom, I never knew just how much you truly loved me--- even before I was born!" she said. "How could you love me without knowing me? You loved me unconditionally?" That very precious moment became a bond of unity that still exists between us today. Those dusty old love letters melted away the anger and rebellion she had been feeling.

Mom's Note: I know you are angry with me. But don't forget for a second that I love you. No matter what you do, or say, or think, you can always depend on my support and love. I love you, Mom.

---From P.S I Love You---

The New Kid I was a new kid at my high school and being very shy, I found it hard to make friends. my escape was volleyball. I love to play and was good enough to get on the girls' varsity team. Most of the girls on the team were pretty nice, but they had been playing together for three years and I was clearly the outsider. The third game of the season was our biggest challenge; we had to play the state champions and they had an absolutely awesome player on their team named Angela. We knew we didn't have much chance but we atleast wanted to play well. I think I played okay, but I don't remember doing anything that special. Anyway, we lost, but we forced the match to go three games and were even ahead a little while. When we were collecting our stuff after the game, Angela walked up, pointed her finger at me, and said "You are good,girl!" Then she smiled & walked away. I was so surprised I was almost embarrassed until my whole team came running over to hug me. On the way back to the bus, one of my teammates turned to me & said, "Next year we'll beat them, because Angela is graduating and we've still got you."

SEEING EACH OTHER IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT - When my daughters were little, we loved to spend time together talking or watching TV. But by the time Lauren and Carly were teens, they preferred being in their own rooms, talking on the phone or listening to music, to being with me or even each other. I knew it was just part of their growing up, but while I wanted ny daughters to be independent, I also wanted them to be close, and a part of me missed the days when we'd all curl up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. Then one windy night while their dad was working, the lights went out. "Cool" I heard Carly, thirteen, call from her room. "I hate this!" Laureen, eighteen, cried. Grabbing camdles and flashloght, I headed for the girls' rooms. Lauren's was already filled with cozy glow candleloght, so Carly and I filled in, and soon we were all snuggled on Lauren's bed. Carly was excited, but Lauren pouted when Carly suggested, "Let's tell stories." As Carly began to talk about school and her friends, however, Lauren's pout disappeared. She snuggled closer to Carly, and soon they were giggling just like they had when they wer younger. I could tell from the sparkle in Carly's eyes that she knew darkness had brought us a gift, but I wondered if Lauren felt the same way. Suddenly, Lauren's phone rang. "Yeah, our power is out too," she told her friend. "But I'll have to call you back. Im hanging out with my mom and my sister." She knows it too! I thought. And after she hung up, she offered, "Let's sing a song." Tears filled my eyes. A short while later, the power came back on. "Oh no!" the girls groaned. But since then, weve all felt closer. We hug more, and the girls don't tease each other as much. Some nights we just sit and talk. The power outage didn't just leave us in the dark; it gave us the oppurtunity to see each other in a different light.