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Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Be extra generous this week with lending something that you own to someone else.  If there is someone who wouldn’t lend you something and they want to borrow something of yours this week, make sure to lend it to them. Lesson #5  Bikur Cholim Visiting The Sick Mitzva: One of the ways we emulate HaShem is by visiting the sick, as HaShem Himself visited Avraham Avinu.  When we visit the sick, attend to their needs and daven for their recovery, we fulfill both of the positive mitzvos of V’ahavta L’Rayacha Kamocha – ‘Love Your Fellow Jew as You Love Yourself’ and Vehalachta Bidrachav – ‘You should walk in His ways’.  In a case where the visit is crucial and life-saving, we also fulfill the mitzvos of V’chai Achicha Imach – ‘saving a life’; VaHashaivosa — ‘returning a lost object’, which according to Chazal, includes saving someone’s life; and our Torah tells us that we must ‘not stand by while someone’s blood is being shed’, Lo Sa’amod Al Dam Ray’acha, Vayikra 19:16. Story: Mean Mrs. Cohen “You missed,” Ruthy yelled to Sara as they played a game of dodge ball out in the school courtyard at recess.  The sounds of girls giggling and balls bouncing filled the spring air.  Ruthy ran after the ball as it rolled under the porch of an apartment next door.  She looked up to see an old lady with both hands on her hips. “You woke me up!” she screamed at the top of her lungs from her porch.  “Awful.” Ruthy bent down to pick up the red ball, but she couldn’t look at the woman in the eyes.  She was too scared.  Every day at recess, Ruthy noticed that same woman out on her porch waving her fist or yelling.  She never understood why.  This was the first time that she got close enough to hear her words. Later that day, Ruthy told Sara about her encounter. “Do you think it’s our fault?” Ruthy bit her lip. “Nah, she’s got some issues.  Her name is Mrs. Cohen; just stay out of her way.”  Sara shook her head.  “We can play on the other side of the lot next recess if you’d like.”  And that’s what the girls did for a few weeks.  Then one evening Sara called Ruthy with some news.  “I heard that Mrs. Cohen–the old lady who lives next to our school–had a stroke.”  Sara’s voice got louder on the phone.  “She desperately needs visitors.” “How do you know?” Ruthy asked. “My mother knows her family through work.”  She paused.  “Apparently she doesn’t have friends, and her family wants visitors right away.” “The Torah does say that visiting the sick is a big mitzva, and not visiting the sick is the same as spilling blood—serious stuff,” added Ruthy. Sara asked, “When do you want to do it?” The girls made up to visit Mrs. Cohen after school.  Sara was excited, but Ruthy felt dizzy at the thought of seeing the mean old lady who had yelled at her.  She pushed herself, knowing that it was a big mitzva . When the girls arrived they were greeted by a nurse.  “Mrs. Cohen would love to see you; she just doesn’t see or hear so well.” “So maybe that’s why she yelled at us,” Ruthy said quietly to Sara. The girls entered the room.  “Who’s there?” the loud voice screamed at the girls.  This time the yelling didn’t shake them up. The girls introduced themselves.  Mrs. Cohen’s lips stretched into a big smile.  “I haven’t had many visitors.  I’m happy you’re here.”  She took a deep breath.  “Come hold my hand so I can talk to you.” Mrs. Cohen held the girls hands and told them about her difficult life.  She smiled as she spoke, and the girls felt so good about their visit.  Mrs. Cohen invited them to visit her again. On the way home Ruthy and Sara thought about their successful visit, and how they almost missed the opportunity to perform an important mitzva . Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times, January 3,2014. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS: Why is visiting the sick such an important mitzva ? Why is not visiting the sick considered the same as spilling blood? Stretch of the Week: Visit one sick person this week who needs a visit.  If you can’t arrange to get to a nursing home or hospital with someone, why not visit an elderly relative or a friend’s grandmother, for example who is more frail and homebound.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Visit one sick person this week who needs a visit.  If you can’t arrange to get to a nursing home or hospital with someone, why not visit an elderly relative or a friend’s grandmother, for example who is more frail and homebound. Lesson #6 Dan L’Chaf Z’chus Give The Benefit Of The Doubt Mitzva: The Torah expects us to give people the benefit of the doubt,Pirkay  Avos (1:6). Story: Dan L’Chaf Z’chus “Monday we’ll be having a math test on fractions and integers,” said Mr. Stone to our sixth-grade one Friday morning. “Not much time to study,” I whispered to my friend, Katz. “You’ll each be paired with a phone study partner,” the teacher said; he began assigning partners. I was paired up with Katz. “Call me after you get home today, Zacharia,” said Katz as he waved goodbye. When I arrived home a short while later, Mom broke the news to me. “Surprise!  Run up and quickly pack your suitcase,” she said.  “We’re going to Philadelphia for a long Shabbos, to Levi and Gittel’s house.” “I’m already packed, slowpoke,” said my younger brother, Dovid, in his best showoff voice. “Ten minutes, and we’re driving away,” Dad said. Even leaving quickly, we arrived in Philadelphia a half-an-hour before Shabbos. It was a great weekend of eating, playing board games and telling jokes.  On Motza’ai Shabbos (Saturday night), we all went out to eat in honor of my cousin’s birthday.  Sunday, we spent the day at an amusement park. It was very late Sunday night when we returned home.  I barely unpacked and put myself to bed. The next day I overslept, and Mom drove me to school a few hours late.  I was just in time for math class. “Hi Katz!” I said, as I entered the classroom.  He turned away. “What’s up with him?” I thought. And that’s when I remembered the math test.  I had totally forgotten—and totally forgotten about my buddy. My stomach hurt, and I held my head in both hands.  Would he ever forgive me?  I can’t believe I forgot to call him.  As we took the test, I could see he was struggling. After class, he ran out to talk to other friends.  For a whole week, he didn’t talk with me. The next Monday, we got our tests back.  He got an 80.  I got a 90.  Katz approached me. “How could you have ignored 10 of my phone calls?” His eyes glared at me. “Katz, listen, there’s an explanation,” my voice cracked. “And you didn’t pick up your cell or answer the doorbell.  I spent hours trying to call you and to find you,” he said, “Listen, we went out-of-town last Friday.”  I looked up at him from my locker.  “It was a surprise, and we were on the road and away the entire weekend.” “I forgot all about the test,” I continued.  “I even overslept last Monday and almost missed it.” I could tell his jaw was loosening; he smiled. “OK,” he said.  “But you owe me.”  We shook on it and walked down the hall to our next class together. Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times, October 3,2013. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS What are some of the ways we can learn to give the benefit of the doubt How would things have been different for Katz had he given Zacharia the benefit of the doubt? Stretch of the Week: Try giving someone who you are upset with the benefit of the doubt.  Why not look at the situation from another point of view.  Can you try making up 3 other reasons why it happened?

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Try giving someone who you are upset with the benefit of the doubt.  Why not look at the situation from another point of view.   Were you able to make up 3 other reasons why it happened?  Lesson #7 Lo Saylaych Rachil B’Amecha/Lo Seesa Shaima Shov Do Not Be A Gossipmonger/Do Not Accept a False Report Mitzva: The Torah tells us, “Do not be a gossipmonger”, Vayikra 19:16, and “Do not accept a false report”, Sh’mos 23:1. Story: Miriam The Robber “I can’t believe that Miriam is in Mrs. Shepfield’s class with us,” I said to my best friend as we jumped onto our swings, side-by-side at the park. “Yeah, last year the girls at her old school called her trouble.” “Whadaya mean?” I shook my head.  “Isn’t that gossip?” “Nah!” Sara continued, “Did ya know that she supposedly stole jewelry from a few of the girls in that school?” We swung back and forth while schmoozing until our legs ached.  All the while I kept thinking to myself, Miriam the Robber.  But how could she?  She’s so nice. “I wonder how she was caught?”  I blurted out as my friend and I jumped off the swings to lay on the grass.  Then something strange happened, out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face. “Hi girls!”  Mrs. Shepfield stood up from a bench only a few feet away, behind the swings.  We hadn’t noticed anyone sitting near us at all while we were swinging and having fun.  Mrs. Shepfield pushed her blue baby carriage and exited the park.  “See you in class tomorrow!” I was the first to speak.  “I can’t believe that she was behind us.” “Do you think she heard us?” Sara’s mouth dropped.  “I’ll feel horrible if she did.” The very next day in school, I sat next to Miriam in Mrs. Shepfield’s history class.  Throughout class we took turns reading out loud.  Each time I noticed that Miriam raised her hand to volunteer.  I wondered why Mrs. Shepfield never once called on her.  “Could Mrs. Shepfield have heard us yesterday?” I thought. After class I ran over to Sara to see if she had also noticed.  She wasn’t sure. And then it happened.  One week later, a girl in our class named Leah noticed that her favorite antique silver charm bracelet was missing.  At recess, I noticed Leah asking Mrs. Shepfield to make an announcement. “Leah’s missing her charm bracelet.”  Mrs. Shepfield’s soft voice now sounded deep like a bass drum.  I thought I saw her glance directly at Miriam. All the girls bent down to search the floor, but to no avail.  We all searched, but came up with nothing. I looked up and noticed Sara’s brown eyes open super wide and glaring at Miriam.  Meanwhile Miriam bent down to check the floor near her desk.  When the bracelet didn’t show up, Mrs. Shepfield told the class that she’d stay late to look for it.  The next day in school, Leah came to class with a big smile on her face.  She must’ve repeated her story over and over again about how she had found her watch under her bed at home.  She had mistakenly dropped it, and found it.  She was thrilled. Mrs. Shepfield smiled and spoke to the class.  “I’m glad that Leah found her watch, and I wonder how many of us thought that maybe someone in our class had taken it.” My face felt hot and I glanced at Sara who shrugged.  “Please don’t tell me your answers,” she continued.  “But let this incident be a lesson to us that sometimes we might jump to conclusions.” “And that’s how rumors get started!” Miriam spoke with a loud voice. Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times, January 24, 2014. Discussion Questions How can some relaxed talk amongst friends turn into a harmful situation? How could the girls have stayed clear from the above prohibitions? Stretch of the Week: This week take it upon yourself to be extra careful not to listen to Lashon Hara.  If you happen to be somewhere where you overhear someone talking about someone else, in your mind, repeatedly say to yourself “I do not accept or believe what they are saying”.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  This week take it upon yourself to be extra careful not to listen to Lashon Hara.  If you happen to be somewhere where you overhear someone talking about someone else, in your mind, repeatedly say to yourself “I do not accept or believe what they are saying”. Lesson #8 Lo Sonu Eesh As A’mi’so Do Not Hurt Another Person Mitzva: Hurtful words are called “o’na’as d’varim,” and the Torah forbids us from speaking them.  Lo sonu eesh es a’mi’so – “Do not hurt one another” (Vayikra 25:17).  Story: Daniel From Texas I sat at my desk munching a sugarcoated doughnut.  Mr. Heller, our sixth-grade math teacher, handed our class treats for the 100th Day of School celebration.  As I neatly chewed mine, I could see the new kid’s mouth twisting left and right as some powder covered his freckled face and plaid shirt.  My friends and I snickered.  “Daniel from Texas makes lots of messes!” one kid blurted in a loud whisper. Daniel turned around to face me, crumbs still covering his mouth.  “Yes?” he queried, his eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t say anything.” “Oh.”  Daniel turned back to face the teacher. Again my friends snickered.  Daniel had been in our class since the first day of school.  He walked with a hop to his step.  He wore skinny jeans like the rest of us, only his tops never matched the color of his pants.  Some of us had a pet nickname we used to call him, thinking that he had problems because he didn’t fit in with the rest of us.  None of us chose him to be on our football teams at recess, but he liked to read, so he would sit on the sidelines with his book.  Deep down, I felt sorry for Daniel.  He was different. One day later that month we were out at recess tossing Yosef ’s football and just playing around.  Daniel came over to the sidelines, as usual reading his latest library book.  Suddenly, Morty sent the ball flying in Daniel’s direction.  “Daniel from Texas, catch!” The ball whizzed along, toward Daniel, but it was too late.  It hit his head.  I saw Daniel lying face up on the ground, his Harry Potter book knocked to one side and blood everywhere.  I was the first to run over and tap him.  “Daniel.  You OK?” No response. “Quickly, call a teacher.  It’s an emergency!” I screamed. “This is crazy,” Yosef yelled out. “Oh, here comes Mr. Heller with the nurse and an EMT.” I told the EMT what had happened and then joined the boys on the sidelines. “Listen,” I whispered, “let’s promise to be nice to Dan and to change, and maybe we’ll get a second chance.” The guys agreed, and Morty said, “Sure hope we do.” I looked up and was relieved to see Daniel standing with the EMT.  They decided to take him to the hospital for observation, and our class went inside.  The rest of the day everyone was quiet.  When Daniel returned to class the next week, the guys circled around him at recess, and they all wanted him on their team. “I have to take it easy for a couple of weeks,” he replied with a smile.  I think Daniel enjoyed the new popularity.  “They said I had a concussion, but I’m OK.” A few guys sat near Daniel and talked with him about his book while the rest of us played catch.  And there was no more teasing the rest of the year.  None at all.  We had learned the hard way the damage it causes.  Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times, February 27, 2014. Discussion Questions: Might the boys have changed their behavior before the accident? Why can words sometimes hurt more than physical pain? Stretch of the Week: If you call someone by a nickname, check with them this week to make sure that they are okay with your calling them that.  If someone is calling you by a nickname that you don’t like, let them know in a kind way that you don’t want to use that name anymore.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  If you call someone by a nickname, check with them this week to make sure that they are okay with your calling them that.  If someone is calling you by a nickname that you don’t like, let them know in a kind way that you don’t want to use that name anymore. Lesson #9  Lo Sonu Eesh As A’mi’so Do Not Hurt Another Jew Mitzva: The Torah teaches us that we are not allowed to embarrass another, Lo sonu eesh es a’mi’so – “Do not hurt a fellow Jew” (Vayikra 25:17).  Story: Rachel’s True Performance My name is Goldie, I’m in the sixth grade, and I can’t wait to tell you my story.  Ever since second grade, my best friend, Rachel, and I wanted to be in the Shira Girl’s Choir.  Everyone knows that only sixth-graders and above are allowed to try out, and only the good singers make it in.  Landing a solo in the Shira Choir is also pretty competitive.  Not everyone can get one, period.  Well, G-d blessed Rachel with a beautiful mezzo-soprano voice.  My voice varies.  Sometimes it sounds like a recorder blown a bit too hard; other times it sounds like a flute.  Rachel and I laugh about it, but the truth is, when I really practice singing, my voice has potential. You can imagine how really nervous I was when I tried out, but a week later I was accepted into the choir.  Both Rachel and I had solos and a duet to end the concert.  Some of the other girls didn’t land solos, and I heard that they were a bit jealous of me.  I ignored some of their comments.  I just kept on working to get ready for my part. When the concert finally arrived, the auditorium’s seats were filled.  The concert began, our choir danced and sang, and the audience loved it.  And then came our turn at the end.  I dragged myself, weak legs and all, out front and grabbed my microphone and looked at Rachel, who held hers.  I shook but took a deep belly breath.  And then I heard a little burst, almost like a balloon popping. I noticed that my microphone stopped working.  Rachel sang, and when it was my turn, I sang into nothingness.  No one could hear me.  My face turned beat red, and I looked over at Rachel.  She smiled and continued, then turned to face me.  I stood there completely stunned and wanted to be buried under the stage, never to be seen again. I looked to face some of the other girls, who just shrugged their shoulders.  Maybe I didn’t deserve this solo.  But that’s when Rachel ran next to me, handing me her microphone toward the end of her solo.  Now it was my turn to sing, and she was to sing again after me.  She stood with my broken microphone while I stood and sang clearly and beautifully into her perfectly good one.  I couldn’t believe it.  Rachel was giving up a bit of her solo to help me sing mine.  I closed my eyes and sang as beautifully as I could, and then I put my arm around Rachel, and I tried handing her back the mike.  She leaned into it, but let me hold it, and we ended with a duet that sounded mostly like my singing. I was shocked.  I stood on stage frozen, not knowing what would happen next.  My eyes moved out to the audience, which was standing and clapping for us.  “What?” I thought.  “They really liked our song, even though we messed most of it up.”  And then I saw how Rachel actually saved me from embarrassment by giving up her solo for the sake of mine.  That night as I stood there smiling, I realized how lucky I was to have such a sensitive friend and how together we had shown the audience much more than anyone had thought possible.  The Torah teaches us that we are not allowed to embarrass another.  How praiseworthy it is then to save another from embarrassment. Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times, March 27, 2014. Discussion Questions Why is it so important to save someone from embarrassment How would embarrassing someone be like murder? What are other ways we can help prevent others from being embarrassed? Stretch of the Week: Be on the lookout for opportunities to save someone from embarrassment.  (Examples:  Perhaps a friend is wearing a shirt with the tag sticking out–privately tell them, or help them tuck it in with permission.  Or maybe you notice a friend with food on their face after a meal, or hair sticking up that they missed when brushing.)  These are all opportunities for you this week to help save a fellow Jew from embarrassment.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Be on the lookout for opportunities to save someone from embarrassment.  (Examples:  Perhaps a friend is wearing a shirt with the tag sticking out–privately tell them, or help them tuck it in with permission.  Or maybe you notice a friend with food on their face after a meal, or hair sticking up that they missed when brushing.)  These are all opportunities for you this week to help save a fellow Jew from embarrassment. Lesson #10 Kol Man D’Uvid Rachma’na L’Tav U’vid Everything Hashem Does Is For The Best Mitzva: The Torah teaches us to be happy with our lot.   This mitzva is found in “The Code of Jewish Law—Shulchan Oruch, Orach Chaim” (230:5) which requires each of us to believe that everything HaShem does is for the very best. Story: No Matter Your ‘Position’, It’s Probably For The Best Baseball season arrived, and we stood on the dirt field at Little League practice.  I held my glove between my elbow and ribs while I fixed the brim on my baseball cap.  Today, we would be given our positions, and Sunday we would play the Red Sox. “I’m gonna land shortstop, watch and see!” I yelled to Ben, who leaned on his bat like a walking stick. “And I’m gonna be pitcher, for sure!” he yelled back. So when Coach Brown called our names and positions, I about choked when I heard the lineup. “Zach Kahn, second base; Rick Shonefield, outfield; Chuck Edleman, shortstop.” “What?” I tilted my head and glared at the coach, “outfield?” I let out a deep breath as my friend came over and patted my back.  “Chuckie’s also good for the job.” “No he’s not!” my voice raised a notch. “Listen, outfield isn’t bad,” my friend whispered just as Coach Brown let out a yell, “And Brad Epstein, pitcher.” “Yes!” he yelled and ran off to slap a few high fives with the guys. Meanwhile I couldn’t take my eyes off Chuck Edleman.  His lanky body and arms that looked too long for his torso just didn’t fit my image of a shortstop.  I felt my stomach tighten as I watched him head toward his position.  Suddenly, I couldn’t stand Chuck Edleman, not one bit. “OK, get into place.  We’ve got a practice ahead of us.”  Coach Brown threw the ball to Chuck, whose long arms reached out and caught the ball on the first try. Sheer luck, I thought, for a nerdy kid. I stood in the outfield rolling my eyes.  Guys lined up to bat; Joey hit the ball toward Chuck.  But Chuck missed it, and it rolled directly toward me.  Still being totally upset, I missed it and it landed a foot away. Zach yelled out, “What’s up with you, Shonefield?” The rest of the game was pretty much the same, Chuck making great plays and me glaring at him. That night at dinner, Mom, Dad, Grandma and I sat around the table eating Grandma’s special spaghetti. “Remember how I was telling you that I was up for a promotion at work two weeks ago?” Dad said, as he stabbed at the thick, slimy noodles.  “Well, they promoted my co-worker, Roger Liebman, instead.”  He let out a deep sigh. Mom sat silent then said, “That doesn’t seem fair.  Haven’t you been there longer?”  Dad nodded his head and Grandma looked at Dad. “I’ll tell you what I learned a long time ago,” Grandma said.  “Sometimes we think something might be good for us, but in the end only G-d decides what’s best.” I lifted my head up to hear more. “I had a friend once who lost her job as a secretary.  It happened suddenly and for no reason” Grandma said, looking at Dad.  “That next week her best friend’s family hired her as the director of their furniture store.” “Freaky,” I said. “Wow, I remember that,” Dad said. “So just let G-d decide what is best and be happy with it.”  Grandma smiled, and Dad thanked her for her words of wisdom. That next baseball game I was back to my old self. Story published in the Baltimore Jewish Times,  May 29, 2014. Discussion Questions How can we be happy with what comes our way even though we might be expecting something else? Why is it sometimes difficult for us to be happy with another’s good fortune? Stretch of the Week: Think of a situation in your life that you might not be so happy about  (maybe your parents said that you can’t sleep over at a friend’s house, or maybe you tried out for the leading part in the play, but your best friend got the role instead of you).  Think about your upsetting situation and tell yourself at least one time each day for one week, “Everything Hashem does is only for the good—this situation…is also for my good”).  Keep a chart and make a star on every day that you say this.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Think of a situation in your life that you might not be so happy about  (maybe your parents said that you can’t sleep over at a friend’s house, or maybe you tried out for the leading part in the play, but your best friend got the role instead of you).  Think about your upsetting situation and tell yourself at least one time each day for one week, “Everything HaShem does is only for the good—this situation ____ is also for my good”).  Keep a chart and make a star on every day that you say this. Lesson #11 Al Tistakel BaKankan, Ella B’Ma SheYaysh Bo Don’t Look At A Pitcher But At What It Contains Mitzva: In Pirkai Avos (4:27) Rabi Meir used to say:  Do not look at the flask, but at what is in it.  There may be a new one that is full of old wine, and an old flask that doesn’t even have new wine in it.  We learn from here that we shouldn’t just look at the outside of a bottle, rather look deeper at the inside where we might find something valuable. Story: Camp Judah:  Adventures On The Bus  “I can’t believe we’re here!” I exclaimed, looking directly at my best friend Shoni who wore her polka-dot tee shirt with a matching headband. “Camp Judah, here we come!” she yelled back, her voice trailing off and mixing into the rumble of the bus motor. It was the beginning of the second trip and we were almost at our sleep away camp.  Shoni and I had planned all year long for this.  We would hang out together, be best friends, be in the same bunk, and go on sleepovers together.  Summer would be awesome.  I looked out of my window and smiled happily to myself. Just then from the back of the bus I heard a scream.  “OMG, Shoni, is that really you?” I looked back as the bus rolled over another bump.  A girl with brown hair pulled back into a French braid was screaming in our direction.  I turned more to see her.  She wore a designer sky blue tee shirt, matching jean skirt and canvas shoes that jumped up and walked towards Shoni. “Dee!  How’d you get here?” I watched my best friend hug “Designer Girl” and walk to the back of the bus.  I stayed twisted as I watched the two of them giggling and telling secrets. ‘What about me?’ I thought.  I felt a pain in my upper stomach, and my eyes felt heavy.  I slid back in my seat and hugged my knees into my chest.  I wanted to jump off the bus and run home.  Suddenly I knew I would hate camp and I didn’t want to go. I turned around again and saw Shoni talking about the good times she and Dee had in LA two years ago on their Chanuka vacation.  As my friend’s voice trailed off, I knew that Shoni was also great friends with Dee.  But why was this new girl here stealing my best friend away from me?  And how would I survive summer camp with all of our plans ruined?  I decided to stand up and walk over to the girls. “Hi guys.”  Dee looked down at my shoes.  They were plain white tennis shoes with stains from stream hiking with my family on July 4th. “Nice shoes,” she remarked.  She and Shoni giggled.  ‘Why were they giggling about my shoes?‘ I thought. “I’m Sarah,” I said, waiting for Shoni to tell Dee how we were best friends and everything, only that didn’t follow.  “I’ll come back up front soon, Sarah, go and wait.”  Shoni pointed towards the front of the bus, ushering me to return to my seat.  As I walked to the front of the bus, I noticed a few other girls move closer to Shoni and Dee.  They too were dressed with matching designer outfits and cute shoes.  I heard laughing from the back of the bus, and I sat alone in my seat and stewed. These girls were perfect, I wasn’t.  Dee knew how to talk to my friend, how to dress great, and how to attract other girls around her easily.  I didn’t.  There was just something about her that I just didn’t have.  I was plain, boring, simple, with stained shoes that I liked.  But somehow I didn’t feel so good.  Then I began thinking about last year in school.  We had had an art contest to see who could draw the most life-like portrait.  My entry won, and I was given $500.  My family and friends made a big deal about it, and everyone was so proud of me.  I smiled, thinking about my talent. I looked to the back of the bus where there was now loud laughing.  What could I do to fit in?  I was so different than these girls.  Then I remembered how talented I was too.  I smiled and got up, walking to the back of the bus to join the girls.  They were seated and talking about the art competition in our school. Just then Shoni blurted out “Sarah won that.”  Dee looked at me and said, “I’m also into art, wanna see some samples?” “You are?” I said. Dee turned around and pulled out a few small cards with designs on them.  They were colorful and cute.  She handed me one. “I love it!“ I said, looking up.  ‘Dee loves art too, nice,’ I thought to myself. “And I also went stream hiking with my family on July 4th.”  She began to laugh.  “My dirty shoes are in my suitcase. Shoni looked at me and said, “Sarah, come sit closer.” As I sat down next to the girls and laughed at their corny jokes, I realized that I had jumped to too many conclusions about Dee and the girls too quickly.  And even about myself.  She wasn’t a snob designer girl, but rather a