Chicken Soup for the Preteen Soul II

by Jack Canfield

  I unwrapped the box and pulled out the tangerine clothes. I could wear these pants with my black top, I thought. And I could wear the shirt with jeans. Nobody said I had to wear a completely tangerine outfit. After thinking it through, I realized that the gift was completely salvageable, and I was much happier about the whole thing.

  My mom came downstairs to the kitchen. She was still in her nightgown and her face was slightly puffy. She looked at me, then at the clothes and the cereal on the kitchen table. “I’m sorry about yesterday, honey,” she said, groggily.

  “I’m sorry too, Mom,” I said.

  “Can we start over with the birthday?” We said it in unison, then we laughed.

  Allison Ellis

  Disabilities

  What really matters is what you do with what you have.

  Shirley Lord

  Step by step, Rebekah pulled herself along the sidewalk with her walker on a cold but sunny day. She looked back at me and, laughing, said, “You can’t catch me!” She turned around and started to run, fast but stumbling, her walker wheels bumping over little rocks on the pavement. I jumped up and started jogging toward my little sister, and thought about how far she has come since her birth three-and-a-half years ago.

  Rebekah was born with spina bifida, a condition in which a baby is born with a hole in its back, and the spinal cord hangs out of it. Right away, she went to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit where very sick babies are sent. She had surgery to close her spine when she was only twenty-two hours old. I wanted to visit my baby sister, but children weren’t allowed in the NICU because doctors were afraid that they would bring in germs.

  Rebekah was eight days old before she was well enough to come home. She looked like a pretzel, because her legs were bent the wrong way, so that they touched her chest. Her feet were both clubbed, so they were turned in toward one another. I was only five, and I didn’t know what to think about my new little sister. She was home for only four days before she had to go back to the hospital. Her head was swelling badly and she had to have brain surgery to put in a shunt, which is a tube that drains extra fluid away from the brain.

  By the time she was three, Rebekah had already gone through nine operations. She has had bladder surgery, four operations on her feet, and hip surgery too. Recovering from her surgeries was a long and painful process. She usually had to wear casts for six to twelve weeks. After foot surgery, she had to wear braces to keep her feet from going back to the way they had been.

  When she was about a year old, she started having physical therapy to make her legs and body stronger. The muscles below her knees don’t work because nerves in her spinal cord were damaged. Because of this, the muscles in her thighs have to do all the work. Rebekah was about a year-and-a-half old when she started to walk. She got a walker to help her keep her balance when she walked. Each time she had surgery, she had to learn how to walk all over again, which is very hard to do.

  Her attitude is remarkable after all she’s been through. Rebekah is determined to not let her disabilities get in the way of the things she wants to do. She does not understand that she is handicapped, so she does the same things as everyone else. She might have to do them differently, but she still does them. She walks, she runs, she jumps, she dances, she kicks balls, and she loves to play outside like most kids do. She has to work harder for everything she does, but she doesn’t complain.

  For Rebekah, standing and walking is like you or me carrying someone our own size on our back all the time. She has a wheelchair, but she likes to walk the best. She walks well with her crutches and walker, but she’s trying to walk without help. She has taught herself to take five steps without help, and she’s still working on it.

  I’ve learned a lot about disabilities since my little sister was born. I used to think it was scary to have a handicapped person in my family. Now I don’t think it’s scary at all. Rebekah is the same as everyone else. She has taught me a lot of things, but the most important thing I’ve learned is that if you keep a positive attitude and work hard, you can overcome just about anything that life hands you.

  Heather Bradley, eight

  The Helpful Stranger

  All of us, at certain moments of our lives, need to take advice and to receive help from other people.

  Alexis Carrel

  With Christmas vacation coming up, I was hoping that we would get a lot of snow, so I could go tobogganing with my friends. I had also asked for a snowboard for Christmas, so I was really hoping for snow to try it out.

  On Christmas morning, not only did I awaken to find that it was snowing outside, but I also found an awesome new snowboard under the tree. I begged my mom and dad to take me to the toboggan hill, so I could try out my new snowboard. They agreed, so off we went through snow so thick that we could barely see where we were going.

  I got on my board for the first time and made it only a quarter of the way down the hill when I fell off. I became very discouraged and didn’t think that I was any good. I made an instant decision that I didn’t want to do it any more.

  A few days after Christmas, my friend Zachary came over with his snowboard to go to the hill near my house with me. Zachary was very good at snowboarding, and since I could barely do it at all, that made me feel even worse. I wondered if maybe my new board wasn’t the right size for me, so I tried riding Zachary’s board. I still wasn’t able to get very far. Finally I just gave up and said, “I can’t do it.”

  But while I struggled with my new board, Zachary was making run after run down the hill and having a great time. He asked me if we could go to our favorite hill a little farther away to do some more runs, and not wanting to spoil his fun, I reluctantly said I would go.

  While out on the new hill, I still struggled to stay up. I had fallen a few times when a teenager that I had never met before noticed that I was getting frustrated. He called over to me to give me some advice about how to snowboard. I don’t talk to strangers as a rule, but my mom was with me so I felt safe. So, I listened to what he had to say, and then I tried again. I was able to go farther down the hill than I had before. He watched as I made one more run, and then he came over to give me more pointers, like where to place my feet and what to do with my hands. He also told me that I should lean a little bit forward once I got up. I tried what he told me to do, and I was able to go all the way down the hill without falling! It seemed so much easier with the instructions that he gave me. He continued to help me a number of times and gave me lots of encouragement.

  I find it hard sometimes to listen to other people when they are telling me what to do, but this guy was very helpful and nice about the way he instructed me. He could have chosen to make a few more runs for the day, instead of taking time to help me—a kid he didn’t even know.

  As younger preteens, sometimes when we think of teenagers, we think about those that are “trouble makers,” or some who intimidate us. But this teenager was not like that at all. He made me feel comfortable around him and was really helpful and kind to me.

  I’m a much better snowboarder now, thanks to a very helpful and considerate teenage stranger.

  Alex Judge, ten

  Foxtrot. © 2003 Bill Amend. Reprinted with permission of UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. All rights reserved.

  12

  ECLECTIC

  WISDOM

  Wise is the determined job-seeker

  Who knocks on every door

  And the rags-to-riches millionaire

  Who shares his wealth with the poor.

  Wise is the legendary movie star

  Who takes time to pose with a fan

  Or the stranded plane pilot

  Who writes his name in the sand.

  Wise is the designated driver

  Who refuses to touch a drop

  And wise is the class clown

  Who knows when to stop.

  Lauren M. Maffeo, fourteen

  Covered

  One important key to success is self-confidence. An important key
to self-confidence is preparation.

  Arthur Ashe

  The day began like most days; I was running behind. After wolfing down breakfast, I ran out the door and down the street to my friend Teresa’s house, only to find she wasn’t going to school that day.

  I knew if I went back for Mom, I would be late for school, so I ignored her warnings about the dangers of being at the bus stop alone. If I’d had a clue as to what was in store for me, I would have chosen to be late.

  As it was, the bus itself was late, so I sat on the grass under a tree and opened a book. I got so into what I was reading, that I didn’t pay much attention to the men in the pickup as they passed by, or when they stopped up the road and backed up. They caught my attention when they spoke to me, but I didn’t understand what they said. I stood up and asked, “Pardon me?”

  The truck held two men who were in their mid-twenties. The driver had dark hair and a tattoo on the arm he had hanging out the window; the other man had long blond hair.

  I knew not to speak to strangers, but I asked again, “Pardon me? I didn’t understand what you said.”

  The driver asked, “Have you seen a black lab running loose? He disappeared out of our yard last night, and I can’t find him anywhere.”

  While he was talking, something in the back of my mind told me I shouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Finally, a bell went off in my mind and I remembered Mom and Dad having Mr. Jay come into our karate class and act out this very same scenario with all the younger students.

  It was like déjà vu. The man in the truck uttered the very same words Mr. Jay had used during our self-defense class, “How about coming over here so I can show you his picture. That way you can let me know if you see him. Maybe you will see him while you’re on the bus, or something.”

  Under the tree, I was well away from the road, but I still began to back up.

  “Come on, it will only take a minute to look. What if it was your dog, wouldn’t you want somebody to help you find him?”

  My emphatic “No! You look for your own dog” wasn’t the answer he was looking for, and when the driver first opened his door, I was shocked. No one in class had ever said someone would actually get out of their vehicle and come after me. They did always have a saying in class though, “He who runs away, lives to fight another day.”

  I ran.

  When I looked back, the blond guy had slid over to the steering wheel and was driving on the road parallel to me while the other guy was gaining ground behind me. It was then that I really started to get scared.

  I tried to pray, but all that would run through my head was, Oh God! Oh God! Please don’t let him get me!

  When the man latched onto the neck of my T-shirt and pulled me backward, I couldn’t scream, claw, bite, punch or kick, because I froze.

  It was only when he let go of my shirt and grabbed my wrist that I was once again able to move. We had covered wrist grabs many times, and thankfully, lessons that had been repeatedly practiced became instinctual.

  I stepped back and executed the twisting yank against his thumb that also caused my upper body to twist away from him. When I realized it had worked, I almost froze again, but instead, I finished the technique they had taught me.

  Using the torque of my twisted body, I swung back around at the man and landed a back fist to his face. Between the torque, the adrenaline and my height, I made a solid connection that made his nose bleed. I allowed my body to continue on past with the back fist and gave the strongest spinning back kick I could to the man’s knees.

  With blood running down his face and hopping on one leg, the guy began to curse me, but I didn’t wait around to hear much. I ran across the field, crawled through the fence of a horse farm, ran past the horses and on to the closest house. Luckily, I knew the people who lived there. From there, I called the police and then my mom.

  When Mom heard what had happened, she began to cry and shake. It wasn’t until we got to the sheriff’s office and I told them my story that I began to cry, too.

  Two weeks later, the paper reported the abduction of a twelve-year-old girl not far from our home who was taken by two men in a truck that matched the description I had given the deputy. I often wonder if some martial arts training could have helped to save her.

  Later on I heard Mom and Dad discussing what had happened. I heard my mom say to him, “All those years of karate really helped her defend herself when she really needed it. But, knowing what happened to that other girl, I think Victoria had a little extra help that day. I believe that God covered her back, too.”

  Victoria Perry, twelve

  As told by Tenna Perry

  Pyramid Surprise

  People seldom refuse help, if one offers it in the right way.

  A. C. Benson

  Nellie and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. We were born only a few days apart, so every year we plan a combined birthday party. The year we were in seventh grade, we were especially excited. Our moms said we could finally invite boys. Our theme, we decided, was “Discover the Pyramids.”

  Nellie was writing out the invitation list when my mom came up and peered over her shoulder.

  “What about inviting John?” Mom asked.

  John had been in our class for only a few months, but he was already getting better grades in math and science than anyone else in class. He was a loner, though, and hadn’t made very many friends.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Mom, he wears the same pants to school every day. How could he even afford a costume?”

  Mom frowned. “The same pants?”

  “Yes. Brown corduroy ones.” I felt a twinge of guilt. My family didn’t have a lot of money either, but my mom was a whiz at bargain shopping. I never had to wear the same thing twice in one week.

  “Hmm,” said Mom. Her office phone rang, and off she went.

  After school the next day, as Nellie and I were cutting paper for party decorations, Mom waltzed up and handed me an envelope.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Nellie’s mom and I thought it would be nice for you two to give this to John,” Mom said as she headed back to her office.

  I opened the envelope delicately and gasped. Inside was a gift certificate for our favorite department store.

  “Wow,” said Nellie. We both knew how many cute clothes that would buy.

  I stared at the certificate in awe. “So, are we going to just hand it to him?”

  “How embarrassing would that be,” Nellie scoffed.

  She was right. John would be totally humiliated if we gave him money for clothes. “What if we slipped it into his desk when no one is looking?”

  “He’d probably give it to the teacher, and then we’d have to say it was for him in front of the whole class.” Nellie rolled her eyes. “Triple embarrassing. We have to think of something else.”

  “Hmm. What if we ask our teacher . . .”

  “Wait a second. Stop everything. I have an idea.” Nellie snatched the envelope and started hopping up and down.

  “What? What?”

  Still bouncing, she sang, “I’m not going to tell you!” I pestered, I wheedled, I glowered. But Nellie wouldn’t budge.

  For days I watched Nellie and John carefully. No new pants.

  Maybe he’s saving them for the party, I thought. Or worse, maybe Nellie was going to give them to him there! For just one tiny second, I wondered if she might have confiscated the gift certificate and used it herself.

  She wouldn’t do that, I told myself. But I watched in vain for new pants to appear.

  On the day of our party, kids arrived dressed in white sheets, black wigs and snake bracelets. John arrived in a dingy sheet, with—no surprise—the brown corduroy pants underneath.

  Nobody seemed to care, though. We danced, ate Mediterranean snacks, and divided everyone into teams for a mummy wrap contest and a hieroglyphic scavenger hunt.

  “And now for the grand prize game,” Nellie announced. Grand
prize? My mouth dropped. This was not in the plan.

  “Get your pencils ready! The grand prize game is the following riddle: Osiris and Isis were building pyramids. Osiris’ bricks were 4 feet cubed, and he worked at the rate of 8 bricks per hour. Isis’ bricks were 3 feet cubed, and she worked at the rate of 12 bricks per hour. They both started with a base 60 feet square. If their pyramids had to be 60 feet high, who finished first?”

  A math game. Of course! Nellie winked at me. Neither one of us was surprised when John came up with the answer way before anyone else and walked off with the envelope.

  Everyone ooohed and aaahed when our moms brought out an enormous chocolate pyramid cake. I noticed John took particular delight in slicing off the very top.

  The next week, he wore a new pair of pants every day, and even a couple of new shirts. The whole time he had a big grin on his face.

  And so did we. I have never been more proud to be Nellie’s best friend.

  Holly Cupala

  Initiation

  Do not do what you would undo if caught.

  Leah Arendt

  “I’ll bet you won’t do it,” Tiffany whispered.

  “Shut up and leave me alone,” I said.

  “Wimp!” Tiffany said. “I do it all the time. We all had to do it. You won’t get caught. You’re just chicken!”

  “I am not!” I said hotly. “I just need a minute to figure out which one I want.”

  “Hurry up! Just stick it in your pocket. She’s not looking. Do it now!” Tiffany ordered as she walked out of the store.