85 Degrees Every Day...
Florida was great...the weather was tantamount to perfect, the condo decorating finally came together, the food couldn’t have been better, I found everything I needed on my trip to Home Depot, my jaunt to the dumpster didn’t find it full, it seemed as if God had doubled the number of stars in the sky, the car I rented had only 354 miles on it, the draught made it less likely my golf ball would drown, when I walked into a closed door-wall carrying two full dinner plates I only dropped one, the bug population was nonexistent, the pool water was ideal, the television set only went on to check the weather, nobody parked in my assigned spot...the list could go on and on...and eventually I’d get to the real reason the trip was great...and that was Ray and Peg and Rick and Jerry and Teri and Florence and Ron and Kathy and Nicole and Fred and Sue and Edna and Peter and David and Sandy and Laura and Chris and...and maybe William Blake said it best – “The Bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.”

A Story of Friendship
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school.  His name was Kyle.  It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday?  He must really be a nerd.” I had quite a weekend planned, parties and a football game with my friends, so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running towards him. They ran at him, knocking all of his books out of his arms and tripped him so he landed in the dirt.  His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. When he looked up I saw a terrible sadness in is eyes.  My heart hurt for him.  So, I jogged over to him.  As he crawled around fumbling for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses I said, “Those guys are jerks.  They really should get lives.” He looked at me. “Hey thanks!” There was a big smile on his face.  It was one of those smiles that show real gratitude.  I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived.  As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.  He said he had gone to private school before now.  I would never have hung out with a private school kid before.  We talked all the way home, and I helped him carry his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.  I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with my friends and me.  He said yes.  We hung out together all weekend, and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him.  My friends thought the same.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.  I stopped him and said, “Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books every day!” He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.  When we were seniors, we began to think about college.  Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was headed for Duke.  I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem.  He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for a business degree on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class.  I teased him all the time about being a nerd.  He had to prepare a speech for graduation.  I was so glad it wasn’t me having to get up there and speak.  Graduation day, I saw Kyle.  He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses.  He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.  Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days.  I could see that he was nervous about his speech.  So I smacked him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you ’ll be great!” He looked at me with one of those looks, the really grateful one, and smiled. “Thanks,” he said.  As he started his speech, he cleared his throat and began. “Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach, but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a real friend to someone is the best gift you can give. I am going to tell you a story.” I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we had met. He had planned to take his own life over the weekend. He explained how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn’t have to do it later and was carrying all his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave a little smile. “Thankfully,I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.” I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about a weak moment. His mom and dad turned to me and smiled that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person ’s life.  God puts us in each other ’s lives to impact one another in some way.  For better or for worse...your choice.  And now you have two choices: Pass this on to your friends, or Toss it away and act like it didn’t touch your heart. As you can see, I chose the first option.  Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.  Show your friends how much you care.

Remember Sniglets?
Ah yes...any word that doesn’t appear in the dictionary, but should.  Here are a few favorites from a book by Rich Hall and friends – HEMOPLUGS (hee’ moh plugz n. Small pieces of toilet paper applied to shaving wounds. CHOCOZIPPER (chok’ oh zip ur n. The tap that releases a Hershey ’s Kiss.  QUADRIPHOBIA (kwa dri foh’ bee yah n. Fear of approaching a four-way stop sign and not knowing “who goes next.”  NINKER (nin’ ker n. Any utensil that positions itself inside a drawer to prevent the drawer from opening.  MEDIPEEP (meh’ dee peep n. Uncontrollable urge to look inside a host ’s bathroom cabinet.  INNINGFRINGEMENT (in ning frinj’ ment n. The warning at the end of a baseball broadcast that says you better not try to start your own station and “rebroadcast the accounts and descriptions of this game.”  AZUGOS (as’ you goes n. Items to be carried upstairs by the next ascending person.  DAIGONERD (dy ag’ oh nurd n. Person who angles his car across two spaces to keep people from parking too close.  See what new “Sniglets ” you can come up with on your next lengthy auto excursion.

The Frogs and the Pit
A group of frogs was traveling through the woods one sunny summer day when all of a sudden two of them disappeared into a dark, deep pit.  All of the other frogs immediately gathered around the pit and when they saw how very deep it was they told the unfortunate frogs they would never be able to get out. The two unfortunate frogs ignored the comments of doom and gave jumping out of the pit their all.  The other frogs kept telling them to stop –the insisted that they were as good as dead. Finally one of the now famished frogs took heed of what the other frogs were saying and simply gave up.  He lay lifeless at the bottom of the pit within moments. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he possibly could.  Once again the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop his pain and suffering and calmly join the other frog at the bottom of the pit. Undaunted by the crowd of frogs he jumped harder than ever and finally escaped the pit. When he got out, the other frogs asked in amazement,  “Why did you continue jumping?  Didn’t you hear us yelling to you that it was hopeless?” The little frog explained to them that he was deaf.  He had thought they were encouraging him the entire time.

Favorite Child
Every mother has a favorite child.  She cannot help it. She is only human.  I have mine. It is a child for whom I feel a special closeness.  The one I reach out to in a rare moment, to share a love that no one else could possibly understand. My favorite child is the one who was too sick to eat ice cream at his birthday party, had measles at Christmas and wore leg braces to bed because he toed in. She was the fever in the middle of the night, the asthma attack, the child in my arms in the emergency ward. My favorite child spent Christmas alone away from the family, was stranded after the game with a gas tank on E and lost the money for his class ring. My favorite child is the one who screwed up the piano recital, misspelled committee in the spelling bee, ran the wrong way with the football and had his bike stolen because he was careless. My favorite child is the one who fell asleep over an assignment on China that the teacher never bothered to grade, flunked her driver’s test five times and told us she could hardly wait to get out of the house. My favorite child is the one I punished for lying, grounded for insensitivity to other people ’s feelings and informed he was a royal pain to the entire family. My favorite child always needed a haircut, had hair that wouldn’t cut, had no date for Saturday night and a car that cost $600 to fix. My favorite child said dumb things for which there were no excuses.  He was selfish, immature, bad-tempered and self-centered.  He was vulnerable, lonely, unsure of what he was doing in this world...and quite wonderful. The one I’ve loved the most is the one whom I have watched struggle and – because the struggle was his – done nothing. All mothers have their favorite child.  It is always the same one, the one who needs you at the moment for whatever reason – to cling to, to shout at, to hurt, to hug, to flatter, to reverse charges to, to unload on, to use – but mostly, just to be there.

...thanks to Erma Bombeck