

The Journey of a

Special One-Dollar Bill

Copyright 2020 T.J. Yeomans

Published by T.J. Yeomans at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A special thanks to my son Jason and my mom MaryAnn

These short storied were first published on Wordpress. Now I've collected them into a book for you to read and enjoy.

Contents

Introduction

Taking Different Paths

JANUARY

Where Will You Be in Ten Years?

Family Ties

Gratitude

What One Person's Discards, Becomes Another's Blessings

FEBRUARY

How Kind Words Can Make a Difference

Chain reaction

Life's Natural Order

Taking Care of Man's Best Friend

MARCH

A Change in Heart

Life is What It Is

The Art of Listening

One Track Mind

APRIL

For the Sake of Love

Striking a Balance

Spreading Kindness

A Family United

Standing One's Ground

MAY

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

A Second Chance

Forgiveness Comes in All Sizes

A Journey of Healing

JUNE

Finding Your Passion

Turning Disappointment into Joy

The Saving Grace of Music

For Better or Worse

JULY

The Use of Good Judgement

Passing on a Life Lesson

Pay It Forward

Choices

Fancy Meeting You Again

AUGUST

You're Never Too Old to Start Again

Bitter/Sweet Memoires

Sisterhood

Leaning What Is Really Important

SEPTEMBER

In Remembrance

Doing Things My Way

If a Door Closes, Look for an Open Window

Life Isn't always Fair

OCTOBER

Attempting to Right a Wrong

Optimist Vs Pessimist

Finding Home

Finding Treasure in a Pumpkin Patch

My Hero

NOVEMBER

Sent From Above

Clowning Around

A Stitch in Time

Celebrating Thanksgiving

DECEMBER

A Message of Love

Stepping into Someone's Shoes

A Special Christmas Project

Community Soup Pot

The Committee

Introduction

Do you ever wonder what goes on in the lives of people when money exchanges hands? Follow along and see where a special dollar bill lnds.

December 31st

Taking Different Paths

Hurrying into the store, Tracy purchased a few things she needed for tonight's party. Guests would be arriving at eight for her annual New Year's Eve gathering. Widowed for five years, she had reached out to others, so like herself, they wouldn't be alone as the old year ended and a new one began. Accepting the change the clerk handed her, one of the dollar bills caught Tracy's attention. Written in red on a one-dollar bill were the words: Smile, someone special loves you. Chuckling, she tucked the cash in her purse and hurried home.

Back in her kitchen, she began to blanch the spinach for the dip on tonight's menu. About twenty people, which included her best friend Rachelle were on the guest list. The two women had known each other since high school, marrying the same year and had seen each other through thick and thin. Like Tracy, Rachelle now had been widowed for about three years. Much more of a social person, recently her friend had been venturing out to meet new people.

By eight Tracy's house was filled with friends. Conversations were light and spirits high. The only price for admission was a dish, making food plentiful. As Tracy filled a plate, she noticed Rachelle talking with Bob. If memory served, he had lost his wife about the same time as Rachelle's Charlie had passed away. Despite the man's loss, Bob had a fun-loving nature and enjoyed being around people. A good match, Tracy thought, keeping the opinion to herself.

At midnight when the clock struck twelve, everyone cheered, hugged, or exchanged a quick kiss. Then a toast was made for a bright new year.

The following morning when Rachelle arrived to help with the cleanup, Tracy notice how quiet her friend was. "Is something the matter?" she asked

"Bob asked me out for a date?" Rachelle remarked.

"And what did you say?" At the question, Rachelle looked away. "You told me you wanted to meet new people," Tracy interjected. "That you didn't want to spend the rest of your life alone."

"When Bob asked, I immediately thought of Charlie. Is that right or wrong?"

"That depends," Tracy replied. "Are you comparing Bob to Charlie, or was it just a reflex." Contemplating her next comment, she continued. "We both still miss our guys and probably always will, but they wanted us to live on and be happy. I think it only natural to think of Charlie. He was after all a part of your life for a long time. What's more important is if you develop a relationship with Bob, you make sure to see Bob for who he is."

"Can I ask why aren't you out there dating?" Rachelle inquired with concern, for in her opinion Tracy spent too much time alone.

Considering, Tracy answered. "I have no need to. I'm very content to be on my own and have always enjoyed a sedentary lifestyle. For you it's different. I admire your guts to go out there and be open enough to build a new relationship as long as it's for the right reason. So, what's the verdict on Bob?"

A slow smile creased Rachelle's face. "I'll give him a call when I get home." Reaching for her wallet, Rachelle pulled out a five. "By the way, I didn't forget the four dollars I owe you."

An idea struck Tracy. Going to her purse, she pulled the bill she gotten from the store. Handing it to her friend, Tracy waited for Rachelle's reaction.

For a minute Rachelle just stared. Grinning, she once more thought of her husband. Up in heaven Charlie was smiling down at her and wishing her the best life had to offer.

JANUARY

January 7th

Where Will You Be in Ten Years?

Setting her belongs on her desk, Rachelle suddenly realized she hadn't packed a lunch for the day. Being off for two weeks during the school's annual winter break had spoiled her. Opening her wallet, she spotted the dollar bill with the words Smile, someone special loves you, written in red across the front of it. Yes, someone did, and her deceased husband was in his own way encouraging her to live life to the fullest.

By this time in her life Rachelle had planned to be retired from teaching, but three years ago her beloved Charlie had dropped dead from a massive heart attack. Continuing to work at the time seemed a better choice. Now she wasn't so sure. Recently she had taken a chance and opened the door to dating again. Glancing at the classroom clock, Rachelle realized that she'd have to brave the food in the cafeteria if she planned to eat today. Now it was time to prepare for her students.

When they started to shuffle in for the first-period class, Rachelle began to check names off her attendance sheet. Two girls were first to take their seats. Rachelle had learned from their papers they were best friends. Will they stay close or drift apart after graduations? Rachelle wondered. Carol was heading for major university, while Macy hadn't made any decision beyond getting her high school diploma. Next came the couple who were stuck to each other like glue and turned in very few assignments. Immediately they settled in the back row, while more students piled in. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Rachelle went to the whiteboard to write: Where will you be in ten years?

Teaching twelfth grade English was a challenge. Even though it was a graduation requirement, she did her best to make the class interesting. To pass, all a student had to do was show up and he or she would earn a D, which was a passing grade, but Rachelle offered more to those who choose to participate. Since writing was one of her passions, she gave them a weekly short assignment to explore theirs and other lives, as well as the world around them.

Walking to stand in front of her students, she called out. "For those who did the assignment over winter break, pass your papers forward. For those who still want a grade, I'll accept this assignment no later than Friday, minus half a grade." In response, papers were passed forward. Taking the stacks, Rachelle set them on her desk. "Who would like to answer the question on the board."

Immediately the class clown jumped up. "My fellow Americans," he said doing his best to imitate past president Richard Nixon. It got a good laugh out of the class, and several people clapped.

"Do you plan to rule the nation ten years from now Steve?"

The young man took a bow. "Nope. But I do like making people laugh. I hope to be in showbiz doing standup comedy."

This time a young woman raised her hand. "I'm going to enter nursing school after I get my associates degree," Sally stated. "I'd be the fourth generation to enter the profession in my family. I'd like to be working in emergency medicine at a major hospital in ten years."

Rachelle nodded, then pointed to another student. "For me, it's the Peace Core. My folks did that and got to see some interesting places in the world. I plan to be stomping around in some third world country." Others added in their choices as to where they hoped to end up. As for the couple in the back, they were too busy making love eyes at each other. Hopefully they were using protection, Rachelle prayed before calling on another student. Lindsay rarely raised her hand. "My mom always said, she didn't care if we were a ditch digger or brain surgeon as long as we ended up happy and productive. I'm still trying to figure out what career I want to follow, but I plan to follow her advice."

"I like that one," Rachelle responded.

"I'm going to have a half dozen babies," Nicky said, then blew Bryon a kiss.

Now the young man choked. "Six!"

Decided this was a teaching moment, Rachelle stepped in. "And who is going to support you and all those kids."

Turning to face the teacher, Nicky gave her a blank stare. "Why Bryon will of course."

"What if he can't. What if he gets sick, or loses his job and can't find work?"

"That's not going to happen!" Nicky demanded. "Why are you raining on my parade?"

"She's not." This comment came from Hal. Very active in school affairs, he was also invested in his church. "Your saying life sometimes doesn't turn out the way we planned. What about you? Where do you plan to be ten years from now?"

Thinking of her husband, Rachelle put into words her thoughts without getting too personal. "I can't say. Life shifted for me three years ago when I lost my husband. His death has forced me to rethink my future."

"Bummer man," one of her students chimed in.

"Yes, it was. But I've learned life will go on with or without me. So I chose to live. In ten years. I plan to be retired, but for now I'm still trying to figure out what that will mean for me." Glancing at the clock, she decided to change their next writing assignment. "For your next paper, I'd like you to find an adult that is at least ten years older than you. Ask them to share with you what they think the next ten years will hold for them." As if on cue, the bell rang signaling the change of class. As the lovebirds walked by, Rachelle heard Bryon say to Nicky, "We're not having six kids!" The girl's angry retort was swallowed up by the crowd.

By lunchtime, Rachelle was ready to eat. Choosing a prefixed salad, she handed over money. In among the bills was the special one-dollar bill. As the cafeteria worker stuffed the bill in her drawer, another came over. "Need change," her co-worker said, and the two made the exchange. Returning to her impatient students, the cafeteria worker sold the requested items. Macy bought a cup of yogurt. Shoving her change into her pocket, she didn't see the writing on the bill. Setting at a table, she poked with little interest at the container of food. At the moment she had other things on her mind than what life would be in the future.

"Hey," she heard and looked up to see a Carol dumping her stuff on the table. "How's your mom. You didn't say this morning if she had the flu or something else?"

"Something else. She's pregnant," Macy muttered. "And excited about it."

"Pregnant!" Carol said in shock. "What will that make in your family?"

"When this baby's born, I'll have six sibs." Taking a bit of her yogurt, Macy gave a snort of disgust about the future.

January 16th

Family Ties

Grabbing up her backpack from her last class for the day, Macy prepared to head home. Thankfully Carol had a car and was willing to give her a lift to and from school. Because of her grades, she was one of the few seniors who was given a parking permit for the small school's student parking lot. In gratitude, Macy chipped in for gas. With a bit of envy, Macy thought of her friend's family, for Carol was an only child.

When Carol pulled into her driveway, Macy thanked her for the ride. "See you tomorrow."

Inside Macy found her mother in the kitchen. It was taco night, and there was hamburger browning on the stove. After greeting her mother, Macy headed for the room she shared with her two sisters. Each day, Lucy and Tilly followed her down the hallway. Like she did each day, Macy closed the door to her brothers' room for it smelled like a gym locker.

The room she shared with the girls was a bit crowded with a set of bunk beds on one side and her single on the other. A long time ago she'd learned to keep anything of importance up on a higher shelf, for her two younger sibs were only six and four and very curious for their age. To accommodate her need for privacy, Macy's parents had hung a curtain to divide the room, but Lucy and Tilly ignored it by walking around or crawling under the divider to be with their sister. In the end, Macy gave up and left it pulled back.

Digging the change from lunch out of her pocket, Macy set the money on her dresser. That's when she spotted the writing. Unfolding the bill, she saw the words: Smile, someone special loves you. Leaving the one dollar sitting on of her dresser, Macy felt a slight surge of annoyance as Lucy chatted at her about this and that and Tilly tugged at her backpack. Tossing it on the bed, Macy picked Tilly up and began to talk to Lucy as she headed out to help their mother with dinner.

To make meals easier, the family had a planned menu for each night of the week except Wednesday. On that night someone got to pick what the family would eat, and the following week it would be served. Since Macy liked cooking, she'd gone for Chinese. As she dumped chopped vegetables into a large stir-fry, Macy began putting some thought into her English paper. Her mother qualified as someone that was ten years older.

"Mom," Macy said when her mother came into the room to check the rice cooking in the rice pot. "Where do you think you'll be in ten years?"

Pausing, Maggie considered. Patting her still flat belly, she answered. "I guess I'll still be raising my children."

During her English class, they had been discussing what the future held for them. The class sweethearts had been fighting about having the six kids Nicky wanted, and Bryon didn't. Nicky had no idea what it was like living in a big family? "Is raising a large family all you ever wanted to do?" Macy asked her mother.

Turning to face her daughter, Maggie heard an edge of temper in Macy's voice. A little confused, she answered. "Yes. Even when I was in high school, I knew I wanted a big family."

"What would you do if something happened to dad?" Macy asked, thinking of how Nicky expected Bryon to take care of everything.

"Figure it out," her mother responded without hesitation, for despite having many children, Maggie was a realist. "Your father and I've talked about just that. How we would handle life if something did happen to the other."

In the silence of the room, both remembered the past. Macy knew her mother's father had been killed in the line of duty when she had been less than a year old. Though her grandmother had never remarried, she'd raised her only child with love and courage.

"Are you worried about the future?" Maggie asked.

Giving the pan of vegetables a stir, Macy told her mother of the paper she had to write. Smiling, her mother considered. "Ten years is a long time. My mom never worried about the future, but she wasn't a fool either. I asked her once why she didn't worry and here's what she told me. 'The past is the past. You can't change a minute of it. The future needs to be planned, but one must be flexible. You never know when something might come along and change the direction you were heading. Life is better lived when we stay in the present.'

"You asked where I'll be in the future. I can't say. But your father and I have planned ahead, and choose to concentrate on the here and now. That way we can enjoy moments like this."

The hug her mother gave her helped Macy realized the truth. The new baby was going to come whether she liked it or not. Her sour mood was robbing her of the joy of her big family. Later that night, when she sat on her bed writing her English paper, Tilly came to her. Crawling up on her big sister's bed, she smiled. "Read to me," Tilly demanded. Before she knew it, Lucy wanted to join them. Inviting Lucy up, Macy enjoyed a story with them.

On Monday morning Macy grabbed up the special bill on her dresser. Yes, someone special did love her. In fact, a whole bunch of someones did. Deciding to pass the bill on, Macy stuck it with her share of gas money she gave Carol each week. Accepting the cash, Carol spotted the bill and laughed.

January 24th

Gratitude

A senior in high school, Carol's life was very busy. Still, twice a week she made time for her grandmother. After dropping her best friend off at home, Carol made her way to the local bakery. Inside she studied her selection and purchased a half dozen cookies. Opening her purse, she spotted the bill that had written across the front, Smile; someone special loves you. Immediately the bright face of her granny popped into Carol's mind. She was not only blessed with loving parents, but the love and support of her Grandmother Emma. Deciding to hold onto the bill, she paid for the cookies with other money.

On the way over for her visit, Carol thought of the writing assignment due on Monday. The paper was to be on gratitude, and she felt she had a lot to be grateful for, which included her very own life. It hadn't always been that way.

Though her parents had been married for many years, they hadn't been able to have children. Then God had given them Carol when her parents had been in her mid-forties. Their age had never been an issue until Carol had entered middle school and some of her classmates had teased her about being raised by her grandparents. When Carol told them the old people were her parents, the teasing became worse. Upset, she had expressed her anger to her granny about being raised by old people.

Instead of consoling her, Emma had told Carol the facts of life.

"You should be grateful for every breath you take. Your mother's doctor had strongly suggested to abort the pregnancy, but your mother chose to carry you to term."

By the seventh grade, Carol knew what abortion was. How easy it could have been for her mother to throw her away, but instead she was a happy kid, going to school and enjoying life. Since that day, Carol did whatever she could to show her appreciation, which included spending time with her mother's mother.

She did have an odd mix of family members; Carol thought as she entered the rest home where Grandma Emma resided. Her mother BethAnn was the youngest of five girls. Oddly Carol had second cousins that were the same age as she was. Thankfully she got along with most of them, but she was one of the only few who regularly came by to visit.

Knocking on the room of her grandmother's small apartment, Carol poked her head inside. "Granny," she called out.

"I'm in here," Emma called back, for she looked forward to the time she spent with her family. Smiling, she leaned forward to kiss Carol's cheeks. "And what do we have today."

"They had something called a Lemon Meringue Cookie. They look good."

"Water's already hot. Fix us two cups of tea."

Doing so, Carol brought in their refreshments. After chatting a bit, Carol dug out her English assignment. Sipping her tea, she waited as her grandmother read the paper. Nodding, Emma handed it back. "You never forgot our conversation. Your mother and father love you very much and thank God every day that you were born healthy."

"No, I never did." Then she snickered. "My parent might be older than most, but they are young in spirit."

"You're a good girl," Emma said patting Carol's hand. Inwardly she sighed, for not all of her grand and great-grandchildren were like Carol. Then she remembered the birthdays coming in February. "I hate to ask, but do you have any ones. Your aunt Janet didn't get me enough change for the birthday cards I have to write."

Smiling, Carol pulled out her wallet. Handing over her few singles, she laughed when Emma chuckled at the one with the writing. "I know just the right kid to give this one to."

"Johnny?" Carol asked.

"Yes," Emma said, giving her granddaughter a wink.

January 27th

What One Person's Discards,

Becomes Another's Blessing

Sitting at the small desk in her apartment, Emma wrote out the cards for the family members who had birthdays coming soon. Though her family considered her eccentric at ninety-five, Emma thought of herself as frugal. Her five daughters had given her seventeen grandchildren and scores of great-grandchildren. Added to that there were at least two great-great with two more on the way. To keep track of all of them, she had a list. For their birthdays, Emma gave each member a dollar for each year of their lives, ending at age twenty-five. Some appreciated the gift, while others chuckled over the small amount they received, but one of her great-grandsons had sneered at the gift the last two years. Still, she slipped the thirteen dollars with, one of which had the words: Smile, someone special loves you, written across the front in red with its card into an envelope. Her granddaughter had passed this special bill to her. At the time the two had shared the same thought, doubting Johnny would appreciate the message.

On Sunday, Janet her middle daughter picked Emma up for church as usual. Then after the service, they went out for a light meal. "Are you sure you won't come to Johnny's birthday?" Janet asked

"Our once a week outing is all I really can handle. You be sure to give out the cards I gave you. Hopefully Johnny will be gracious this time."

On Tuesday the family gathered. Janet laid her mother's card with the other gifts sitting on the table. Tension in the family was high. Her grandson had been contrary from birth. He had three older sisters who were jewels. They worked hard in school, enjoying an active social life and were developing into responsible adults. Johnny sadly complained constantly, got in trouble in school and did his best to cause havoc in the family, with today being no exception.

At Johnny's request, pizza had been ordered for his birth dinner, but when it arrived, he'd changed his mind demanding fried chicken from the colonel. With that request unfilled, he fussed about the cake, claiming to hate how it had been decorated, then switch to saying it was rocky road ice cream he'd wanted instead of the of the plain chocolate being served. None of the gifts given satisfied him, for he wanted a cell phone, a motor cross bike and two other items beyond his family's means.

When the card from his great-grandmother was handed to him, the boy tossed it carelessly aside. Not wanting to make an issue of it, Janet said nothing and was glad her mother hadn't come.

The next day was garbage day. Johnny's mother should have figured the boy was up to something when Johnny did his chores without argument. Gathering up the household trash, which included the card from his great-grandmother, he tossed everything in the cans, mixing the garbage with the recyclables. As he wheeled the containers out front, inspiration struck. A huge storm was brewing, bringing with it heavy rainfall. Flipping the lids of both bins open, Johnny ran inside.

An hour later the rain poured from the sky. As the cans began to fill, Johnny's card floated to the top. When a big gust of wind came, it sent the card flying out. There it bounced, floated in some water, before being picked up by the wind again. Eventually it landed at the base of a tree. Slowly the card was covered by debris from the wind.

The next day Corey walked home from school. The sky had cleared, but his heart was heavy. Things had changed right after Christmas with his parents' separation, leaving him and sister devastated. To make matters worse, money was so tight, there wasn't even enough to have a small celebration for his sister's birthday.

With his head hung down, Cory caught the sight of something resting against a tree. Picking it up, he saw the soggy card. The rain had obliterated the name, but inside was thirteen dollars. Seeing the one-dollar bill with the writing, the young boy smiled.

When his mother arrived home from work, he showed her his find. "I know there's no extra money, but can't we take this and get Sissy a little something."

His mother had been praying for a few extra dollars to do just that. "Yes," she said. "If you watch your sister tonight, I'll go to the store and get what we need."

At the grocery store not only did she find the ingredients for making a cake, as well as the ice cream being on sale, there were a few jigsaw puzzles on a clearance table. When the sale clerk hit the total, the mother was delighted to see her purchases were just under a few cents of the thirteen dollars. "Perfect," she exclaimed. "It's my daughter's birthday."

Before she could say another word, the man behind her grumbled. Taking her purchases, the mother left. The clerk knew this man. He always seemed to be in a disagreeable mood.

With a scowl on his face, George paid for the half gallon of milk and his two frozen TV dinners. Money was exchanged. When he spotted the bill with the writing, anger bloomed on his face. "Is this some type of joke!"

"No," the clerk replied evenly, for she hadn't noticed the writing until he'd said something. "Maybe it's a message to you." Shutting her register with a snap, she greeted the next customer with a smile. As George walked out of the store, he jammed the bill in his wallet.

FEBUARY

February 6

How Kind Words Can Make a Difference

George hated when people wasted time with odd gestures. The bill in his wallet was case in point. The message, Smile: someone special loves you was an intrusion in his life. He was a businessman, who knew the value of time. His hard work had landed him a good job and helped build a solid portfolio. Two things he always thought to be essential in life, and yet at this time in his life he felt lonely.

His sour mood continued when he walked into the break room. The company had recently hired a new secretary who was determined to bring cheer into the office. Brown eyes full of delight and fun, Mirsha started celebrating birthdays with the staff and encouraged special events. There was a sign list up on the wall for a Valentine's party which included a small secret gift exchange. Today it was Katie's birthday. As George walked to a coffee pot, he could smell brownies. Pausing, he considered joining for he longed to be part of the group. Instead, he poured a cup of the dark brown liquid, doctored it with his usual teaspoon of sugar and left.

Very much aware of the distance George put between himself and his coworkers, Mirsha watched him go. As things began to wind down, she picked up a brownie and set it on a plate. Then going to his cubicle, went inside. George didn't bother looking up, as he kept on working.

"Why thank you Mirhsa," she said. "I appreciate you bringing me a brownie," she continued as she set the brownie in front of him. "You're welcome George. Yes, I think I'll sit down a minute. Thank you for offering." Then plopping down in a chair, she waited.

Stopping his typing, George looked at her. It wasn't the first time she'd done this. "Why do you care?" he demanded with annoyance.

"Because I see you wish to join us. My thinking is you don't know how."

"What you're doing is a waste of time."

"Why do you say that. Enjoying life is never a waste of time. Being friendly isn't either. My thinking is if I ask often enough, one day you just might decide to join us." Even though George's message was loud and clear to leave him alone, Mirsha continued. "Some of us like to gather on Fridays at Clancy's."

"It's a bar."

"Yes it is."

"I don't drink."

"Neither do I. But they have soft drinks, nachos, and these fabulous jalapeno poppers. More importantly, it's a time to socialize and be with people." Rising she added, "and something I think you need."

When Friday rolled around Mirsha extended another invitation to join them. Finding himself tired of being alone, George seriously considered it. Over the years he'd heard other staff members comment about how the place had great music. The one thing he really did enjoy.

Taking a chance, George stopped by. He found three of his coworkers alone with Mirsha. Tonight's singer was a young woman in their community. Ordering a soda, he sat back to listen. For the first time in months, George relaxed. When it was time to square up his bill, he took the odd bill out of his wallet. Looking over at Mirsha and her boyfriend, George was grateful for her persistence. No, it wasn't love, but someone special did care. With a relaxed smile on his face, George placed the special bill among the cash, figuring he got the message that it was time he found some joy in life.

February 12th

Chain reaction

As Kim bussed her table, she spotted the bill with the words written in red across the front that read Smile, someone special loves you. Slipping it in her pocket with the rest of her tip money, Kim did just that. After her shift, she headed home. Entering her tiny apartment, she picked up the phone to call her mother. It was a nightly ritual that gave her mother peace of mind.

At twenty-one, it was the first time in her life Kim had been on her own. She had completed two years of community college in the town she'd grown up in. Unfortunately, her dream of becoming a museum curator required her to attend a college that was many miles away. The first semester had been emotionally hard, especially living in a dorm. Kim's roommate seemed more interested in partying, or political debates than studying. Her mother had not been happy when Kim chose to take a tiny apartment off campus. To compromise, they talked nightly.

Even with the daily contact, Kim missed her noisy family. As she turned on music, Kim played with the neckless hanging around her neck. It was a gift from her mother. The double hearts made Kim feel close to her mom.

Tuesday Kim sat on the floor of her apartment studying. Her new round of classes were going to be a challenge. Out of habit, she reached for her neckless. Panic struck as she found it missing. Quickly she stood up. There was only two rooms in the place. Rushing into the bathroom, Kim search desperately. The neckless was nowhere in sight. Back in the main room, she frantically searched, but her precious hearts was not to be found. Then remembering what her mother always did, Kim paused to say prayer.

"St. Anthony, St Anthony, please come around.

I've lost something, and it can't be found."

Raised Catholic, Kim's mother always prayed to the patron saint of lost things, asking him to intercede for her, seeking God's aid in finding what was lost.

With the prayer said, she sat on the couch and began to move papers and books around more carefully. Suddenly she spotted something shiny poking out from between a stack of paper. Carefully she slid out the chain, thankful to see the charm was still attached. A quick examination showed the loop in the back had opened and had become lost. It was then she thought of Ernie. He lived downstairs. They had taken a class together on Ancient History. During a break one day, she'd learned he did a lot of work with jewelry. She'd even bought a few of the pieces he'd created. A bit nerdy, Ernie was a nice guy. Going to her tip jar, she pulled out a couple of ones, which included the one with the writing on it. Walking downstairs, Kim knocked.

Opening the door, Ernie was definitely surprised, for he thought Kim was very beautiful. Tall, she moved with a fluid grace. "Hi," she said sweetly. "I was hoping you'd help me out." Showing the necklace, she quickly explained her need.

"Come in," Ernie said. Competently he made the repair. When Kim offered him a few dollars, he accepted the payment. The bill made him laugh. "Hey," he said before he lost his nerve, "I haven't had dinner. Would you like to go out and split a pizza or something?"

Thinking of the studying she wanted to do, Kim decided cracking the books could wait just a bit. "Sure."

The meal was enjoyable, and she found Ernie quite interesting, more importantly, he was also a practicing Catholic. On Sunday they decided to go to an early mass, then go back to her place for breakfast before she headed off to work. As the collection plate was passed, Erie dropped the dollar bill inside.

Later that day, with the donation collected, three women sat in the office sorting and counting money. "Hey," look at this," MaryEllen called out, holding up a bill with writing on it. "You know what ..." And going to her purse, she pulled out a plain bill. "You two are my witness," she said and made the exchange.

February 21st

Life's Natural Order

Twice a month MaryEllen gathered with her friends for what the group called Craft Night. Each person brought what they were working on and a dish to share. At the end of their meeting, each person tossed a dollar into a pot. Then they'd have a roll-off with dice. The one left standing was the winner. On Sunday she'd gotten a one-dollar bill with words written on it that said: Smile; someone special loves you. Tonight, she'd toss that particular bill in the pot

All of the women in this social circle were about the same age, with teenagers preparing to move on in life. For MaryEllen, her oldest was away at college, with her youngest graduating in June. As of late, she'd been asked one annoying question by several of her friends; what was she going to do with her extra free time. Her response had been the same. "I plan to get back to living my life."

Long before her daughters were born, MaryEllen had established her own identity. So, when the girls did come along, she had no trouble devoting the time necessary to raising her children, which included their education. As her daughters had entered high school, their social activities had increased, causing MaryEllen to put many of her personal interests and hobbies on hold.

With a large pot of chicken and vegetable soup sitting on the floorboards and a bag on the seat containing her latest counted cross stitch, MaryEllen found herself looking forward to tonight's meeting. One of her great joys was taking a prayer and turning it into a work of art. The Serenity Prayer was her current creation. It was near completion, and she was eager to show off her work.

At her friend's house, MaryEllen saw Karen sitting in a rocker, knitting needles were already clacking, and Bess sat at a table coloring. Dinner was always a mixture of food, which tonight included one of Terry's fabulous desserts.

As MaryEllen took out her sewing, Jan settled beside her. Pulling out her crocheting project, Jan slyly studied her friend. Then unable to resist, blurted out, "I can't figure you out?"

Selecting a thread, MaryEllen asked, "What do you mean?"

"You're not worried how you will fill your time once Macy is off to college."

Pausing, Karen joined the conversation. "I know the first three months after Justin was gone, I thought I'd go crazy. Max has two more years before he'll be out of the house. He's still talking about joining the Navy."

Serval heads nodded in sympathy.

"Why would I be worrying about that now? Macy's not leaving until late July, early August." MaryEllen considered. "To me, it's a waste of energy to worry about the future."

"I agree," Bess said. "She'll have time to be depressed after her youngest leaves the nest."

Dropping her stitchery in her lap, MaryEllen shook her head. "God never meant us to hold onto our children. It's the natural order of things for them to spread their wings and fly. As they leave the nest, I plan to take the twigs apart and reshape my own nest. Besides, I will always be their mom, but just like their lives, our relationship will mature and reach new horizons."

Looking from friend to friend, she saw a mixture of reactions. Some agreed, while others had that you wait and see look on their faces. MaryEllen only chuckled to herself; she had plans in place to expand her own horizons. As the evening wound down, everyone dropped their usual dollar into the kitty. The dice began to roll, with Bess winning the pot. As she accepted her prize, Bess spotted the single one and laughed.

February 27th

Taking Care of Man's Best Friend

Chores and things to do were never ending in Bess's house. While sorting laundry, she found a wad of one-dollar bills stuffed in the pocket of a pair of her jeans. She'd won the small amount from the game played in her craft circle. Chuckling, Bess remembered the one that had the words written on it: Smile; someone special loves you. Looking at the dog standing beside her, Bess gave the animal a pat on the head. In her house, there were many who gave her that same love and thanks.

A mixed collie, Shelton was Bess's first animal rescue, but the only one she'd ever kept. What had launched her into this aspect of life started the day she'd been running errands. The car in front of her had swerved, but not fast enough to miss the dog. To Bess's horror, she watched the animal fly into the air, before landing hard on the sidewalk. What was more shocking was the driver hadn't even bothered to stop. Knowing full well the dog had to be dead, Bess stopped nonetheless. To her shock, the animal whimpered pitifully. Carefully she lifted the collie into the car, then dove it to a local vet.

The good news was the dog would survive, but would lose its front leg. Sadly with no one to care for it, the dog would have to be put down. Unable to stand it, Bess said she would take care of the animal. Filled with compassion and a willingness to save a life, the vet agreed to do his part by greatly reducing the bill.

Over the course of Shelton's recovery, Bess learned of the world of animal rescue and began to offer her home to other dogs who needed special care until they could find their forever home. Since then she'd helped at least fifty dogs find owners who would love and care for them.

Currently, she had three. A pug-dachshund mix whose back legs had been weak at birth. The breeder had abandoned the little guy. With some work, the muscles of his back legs had strengthened, leaving him walking just a little awkwardly. The other was a poodle who the vet thought was about ten. Megan had called, and Bess had taken in the pretty female so it wouldn't be euthanized. Last was a pitbull lab mix named Ginger. Someone had tried to use her as a fighter, but the dog had a very gentle nature. Though she bore battle scars, she'd make someone a great pet. By the weekend, hopefully all three would be welcomed into loving families.

As soon as Bess walked into the house, she was greeted with yelps and barks. It was breakfast time, and they all knew it. As she began to fill bowls, Bess's phone rang. "It's Megan," the caller said. "We had someone drop off a box of puppies they found in a dumpster. They aren't more than a day old."

Glancing at the clock, Bess realized it was just after eight. "It was near to freezing last night. What shape are they in?"

"Dehydrated and starved. I think they survived because they had each other. The pups huddled together to keep warm. It's the fourth one of the lot that's in bad shape."

Four puppies, Bess thought. At that moment her husband walked in. As an insurance agent, he'd started working from home to help her with the animals whenever Bess needed a hand. Quickly she explained the emergency.

"Go get them. I'll get things ready here."

Arriving at the shelter, Bess saw the four pups were a terrier mix and were so small they fit in the palm of her hand. Three males and one female. The runt of the litter was solid black and barely moved. They were carried out to a special crate Bess had. Inside a warming blanket waited for her precious passengers. She had a special arrangement with the same vet who had taken care of Sheldon. The examination showed that three were healthy, but the forth was very weak and was having some trouble breathing. "I don't think he'll make it through the night." Despite the doctor's diagnosis on the runt, Bess took all of them home.

Each had to be hand fed. Thankfully family and friends came to help. Bess's twin sons who were freshmen in high school were thrilled with the new arrivals. Like others, they took on the task of caring for the puppies. Josh, who was the oldest by three minutes, had a knack for the needy. Soon the weakness of the pups, they'd named Barney, was responding to his special tending. Though it was touch and go, the next morning, Barney was still with them. By the weekend all four of their furry friends were slowly improving.

Making a trip to the local pet store, Bess picked up supplies. As she checked out, the clerk asked about her charges. When she told him of the plight of her newest arrivals, he shook his head. "How can people be so cruel?" Accepting the money Bess held out, the young man laughed when he saw the bill. "If you ask me, though pups found someone to love them."

Waiting on the next customer, money was once again exchanged, and the bill left the store. As this customer was leaving the store, another rushed in. The two suddenly collided. Apologies were exchanged, and they went their separate ways. Sadly the one exiting the store didn't realize her wallet had just been lifted from her purse.

MARCH

March 4th

A Change in Heart

As an elderly woman left the pet store, her purchase in hand, a young woman hurried to the front of the shop. By the entrance, the two collided.

"I'm sorry," said the older woman.

"Me too," Shelly responded. "Not watching where I'm going."

Laughing, the older woman said, "That should have been my excuse," before the two went their separate ways.

Inside Shelly wandered around for a few minutes, then left the store. Once in her car, Shelly reached into her pocket and pulled out the older woman's wallet. Flipping it open, she saw a driver's license, two major credit cards and a pitiful amount of cash. It was one of the bills that caught her attention. On a one-dollar bill was the words, Smile; someone special loves you.

Snickering, Shelly glanced at the old woman's driver's license. "Yes you do, and I want to say thank you Virginia." Shoving the cards and money in her pock, she tossed the wallet on the floorboards of her car.

Since starting high school, Shelly had been in nothing but trouble. Stealing had become her hobby, even though her parents made more than enough money to provide anything she needed and more. It was the thrill of sneaking into a store and taking something that didn't belong to you was what had attracted her to this activity. In the end, most of what she took was given away to her friends or tossed in the nearest dumpster.

Starting her car, Shelly drove to Target. There she started to shop, dumping this and that into a shopping cart. As she roamed the store, Shelly knew she should be in school. Yet what was the point? A senior, she should have graduated this year, but her grades were beyond poor. She'd flunk so many classes over the last three years, she couldn't graduate even if she wanted to.

With several blouses of various sizes, underwear that didn't fit her, a very ugly purse, she stepped up to a self-checkout register. After ringing up the purchases, she pulled out one of Virginia's credit cards from her pocket. The bill with the writing on it floated to the ground. As she looked at it, something stirred. The last time she'd been on this type of shopping spree, Shelly had been caught. It wasn't the first time, but that indulgence netted her a six-month stint in Juvenile Hall. Ignoring the memory, Shelly started to shove the card into the slot, but froze. What flashed in her mind was her mother's tear-streaked face when she had been sentenced.

"Problem?" a sales clerk asked.

The stuff was there. All she had to do was shove the card into the terminal. "No," Shelly said, and walked away.

Out in the car, she pounded her fist against the steering wheel. What was wrong with her. She loved stealing. All she would have had to do was shove Virginia's stupid credit card in the slot, and the stuff would have been hers. "Screw it," Shelly muttered and drove to Walmart. There she did the same thing, loading a cart with random items. While waiting in the checkout line, the conversation of one of the workers where she'd been incarcerated ran through her mind. If she kept this up, a woman's prison was in her future. Again, Shelly thought of the dollar bill.

Walking away from the cart, she went back to her car. Picking up Virginia's wallet, Shelly looked at the driver's license. Replacing the credit cards and the money, minus the one-dollar bill, she dove to her victim's home. A car was parked in the driveway. Getting out of her car, Shelly quickly hurried to the front of the house. Setting the wallet on top of the mailbox by the front door, she gave the door a good hard knock before hurrying off.

At home she sat in her room, staring at the bill. From the start of her freshmen year of high school, she'd given her parents a ton of grief. Her birthday was just a few days away. They said they were through with her. Her father had given her an ultimatum when she'd returned home for her stint in juvie. Straighten up or get out!

Going out into the living room, she found her parents sitting on the couch watching TV. Setting between them, Shelly spoke with a shaky voice. "Do you still love me?"

Putting down her crocheting, her mother answered, "We do."

"Will you help me?" Shelly asked, then told them what she had done that day. When her father started to swear, her mother pleaded with him to hear their daughter out.

"I don't want to end up in prison," Shelly sobbed.

Her father felt a tug of hope upon hearing his daughter had returned the wallet. "We've offered you counseling. Will you go this time?"

As tears continued to fall, Shelly nodded and pressing herself into her mother's side, shoved the dollar bill into her hand.

March 12th

Life is What It Is

Sitting at her desk Thursday morning, Belinda stared at a dollar bill with words Smile; someone special loves you, written in red across the front of it. Life had taken a sudden change for the better. Her daughter who had given them nothing but trouble since entering puberty was starting to get her life back on track. Whoever had written this special message will never know what they put in motion.

They had found a counselor who would work with the whole family. On Monday, they had enrolled Shelly into a school that would help her eventually graduate. During the week there had been good progress, but a setback as well. With the counselor's help, Shelly was once more back on track.

A movement in the office had her looking up. Joyce carried a cup of coffee to her desk. If Belinda had it hard raising one child with a supportive husband, how hard it must be raising three on your own. Yet Joyce never complained.

Rising, Belinda stuffed the dollar into her pocket. Walking over to Joyce's work area, Belinda leaned against the edge of the desk. Taking a sip of her coffee, Joyce looked up. "What's up?" she asked.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Belinda inquired.

"Deepens how personal," Joyce replied.

"You never complain about life," Belinda stated. "You're always so cheerful and optimistic. How do you do it?"

"There's no use complaining. Life is what it is. When there's a problem, you deal with it and move on."

The comment intrigued her. "So your boys never give you much trouble."

That got a snort of laughter out of Joyce. "Let me tell you," she said. "I'm up to my eyeballs with how my boys' behave."

Now surprise flashed on Belinda's face. "You never say anything. Why is that?"

"Because it won't change the problems." Sitting back in her chair, Joyce enlightened Belinda. "My oldest informed me last year that he plans to go to a university, then proceeded to get C's and D's for grades. My middle son is struggled in school with his academics. I decided a tutor would be of help and when I ask their father for help paying for extra instruction, was told to buzz off. Ten years ago I got myself knocked up, and was at least smart enough not to marry the man. The trouble is he wants shared custody of my youngest. That's fine, except he plays the good parent and I get the dirty job of being the bad one, so much so Pete is threatening to go live with his dad. Lately, I've been tempted to just let him do that."

None of what she said was with anger. "Why didn't you say something?" Belinda asked.

"Because I didn't want a bunch of advice. I know how to raise my boys and get by. When I'm at work that's what I need to be doing and when I'm home, I do what needs to be doing there."

Thinking of the money in her pocket, Belinda pulled out the bill and handed it to Joyce. "You deserve this."

At first Joyce started to refuse, but saw the writing. The comment brought a smile to her face. "Thank you," she said polity. "Now we better get back to work."

On her way home, Joyce thought not only of her boys, but her extended family as well. Her mother was having health issues and her brother's divorce was good timing. Needing a place to be, he'd moved in to assist their mother. Stopping by, Joyce checked to see if her mother needed anything.

"Charles's picking up groceries after he gets off work," her mother said.

"I got something for him. I'll leave it in his room," Joyce replied.

Walking into the room that been his as a child, Joyce set the bill on his dresser. Then snagged a piece of paper, left him a note.

Thought you'd get a kick out of this. Luv Sis.

March 20th

The Art of Listening

Staring out the window of the lunchroom, Charles watched the light rainfall. He loved this time of year, especially since today was the first day of Spring. Sitting down at the table, he took out his usual sandwich of ham on rye, apple and the small amount of potato chips he allowed himself each day. As he began to eat, Charles thought of the odd dollar bill in his wallet his sister had left on his dresser. Written across it was the words, Smile, Someone special loves you.

Many people loved Charles's easy nature and the fact he was a good listener, a trait that had developed over time. Most of the staff knew if they had a problem, Charles was the one to go to.

As he enjoyed his meal and the book he was reading, Raymond came into the room. Spotting Charles, he hurried over, holding out a hand when he arrived. In response, Charles held out his. As the two men clasps hands, Raymond placed his other over their joined hands. "I've been wanting to thank you," Raymond said with sincerity.

"You're welcome." In that short exchange of words, both men flashed back to what Raymond was talking about.

A few weeks earlier he had stormed into this room, seeking Charles's help, with plans on taking a different direction in life. Getting right to the point, he had asked Charles if he knew a good lawyer, for he was throwing in the towel on his marriage of ten years.

"I do," Charles replied, then said no more. He had met Raymond's wife and his two young children on a company picnic last year. Temper had Raymond dropping into a chair. Unable to help himself, he gave a long list of why he wanted a divorce. In his patience way, Charles had listened. "I'm not taking sides and I understand your frustration," Charles had finally said. "But would you be willing to try something first." The demand of, "What," from Raymond did not deter Charles. "Will you go home tonight and just smile at your wife with warmth. And when she starts to complain just listen. Try that for a month. If it hasn't made a difference, I'll give you the name of a good lawyer."

Today with gratitude in his eyes, Raymond explained his reason for giving thanks. "That day when I left, I was pretty steamed at you. But on the way home I gave your advice some thought. Pulling into my driveway, I tried to smile. When I looked in the mirror it looked like a taunting sneer, so I thought of a happy time and the simile became genuine. When I walked in, Jillian started her gripping. I took your advice and listened. It was on the third night she broke down and cried. We both began to talk. We've got a long way to go before the damage is repaired, but we're starting to heal. I was wondering, do you know a good marriage counselor?"

"I do and will give you their names. They're a couple who work as a team."

Pulling out his phone, Charles sent Raymond their contact information. Before leaving Raymond had to ask, "I heard you're divorced. Can I ask what happened?"

"To put it simply, I forgot to listen to her, so she found someone who would."

When Charles smiled quietly, Raymond had all the answers he needed.

Later that day on his way home, Charles made his usual stop at the market. When the clerk gave him the total, he saw he had the exact amount in cash, which included the one-dollar bill. Knowing the people he helped out were the ones smiling for him, Charles passed it on.

Once more the bill was tucked into a cash drawer, then handed back out to the next customer. This time it was a young man named Zip. Dropping his purchase of chips and soda into his backpack, he shoved the change the sales clerk had given to him into a pocket. Outside, he dropped his skateboard on the ground and was off, zipping his way through traffic.

March 27th

One Track Mind

To be fifteen was glorious Zip thought as he rode his skateboard to the local park. The city had built an arena designed just for skateboarders. The park's only requirement was the wearing of protective gear and he had plenty of that. At the moment his only desire was to hang with his skating buddies. With school out for the day, Zip thought fleetingly of his promise to be home by five.

Arriving at the park, Zip spotted Jumps and Dodger. They slapped hands before getting down to business. Digging out pads and helmets, the three boys planned some of their moves. While Zip was pulling on knees pads, Dodger noticed cash sticking out of his friend's pocket. Unable to resist, he yanked out the money. What he hadn't expected to find was a bill with the words, Smile; someone special loves you.

"Hey dud," Dodger teased. "You got a chick on the side you're not telling us about."

"Heck no," Zip quipped, then snatch the bill out of his friend's hand. After taking a look at the writing, he shoved the bill deep in his pocket. "Someone's just being funny. Let's get this show on the road. And can someone remind me when it's quarter to five? Every time I'm late, I get a lecture from the old man." But the group got so busy, no one watched the time.

Later Zip wove in and out of moving cars as he frantically zoomed home. He paid no mind to the sound of screeching brakes or blaring horns. Dashing into the house, Zip found his father in the kitchen.

Shaking his head, Zip's father showed his disappointment at his son's late arrival. The boy might be a freshman in high school, but acted more like a sixth grader. They were on their own tonight, for his wife had the swing shift at the hospital.

"I thought you were going to help me fix dinner tonight," his father said with a bit of impatience as ground hamburger sizzled on the stove.

"Yeah, but a couple of the guys wanted to skate." Zip complained.

"And don't you have a history paper due by this Friday?"

"What's the big deal," Zip demanded. "It's due on Friday. I got time."

His father sighed. "The big deal is you got to start thinking of your future. In a little over three years you'll be graduating." And he could see by his son's expression the boy was already tuning him out. "Take your things to your room, then you can set the table."

Later Zip sat in his room staring at the books spread out on his bed. Already bored with the task at hand, Zip's mind wandered off to his earlier venture at the park. He loved the feeling of shooting up to the sky, doing a flip, then skating down. They had been trying more and more daring stunts as of late. The latest had been riding their skateboards down a flight of stairs near the park. The ride down was a trip and rattled every bone in his entire body. If his parents found out, they'd probably ground him until he turned fifty.

His folks were always on his back about school, and what he was going to do after he graduated. There was time, right now all he wanted was to skateboard. The sound of his father heading down the hall had Zip looking at his books. He could at least fake doing the stupid paper.

The month of March had been cold and for the last few days wet. A light drizzle on Thursday had fallen off and on all during the day. Not caring about the weather, Zip snagged his skateboard out of his locker and headed off to meet his friends. By the time Zipp showed up, the guys were already at the park.

"Hey," Jumps said, "Let's do the stairs. I bet with it being wet, it will make for a killer of a ride down."

Agreeing, all three boys raced off.

At the top of the steps, Dodger called out, "On the count of three."

They all pushed off. What should have been a fun ride, turned quickly into a nightmare. Dodger's board shot out from under him, slamming into Jumps, who sent Zip flying. All three boys landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Lucky a passerby had seen the accident and raced to see if the boys needed help. Arriving on the scene, the stranger whipped out his phone, immediately calling 911.

Later that night Zip's mother slipped quietly into her son's hospital room. With a broken arm and concussion, it had been suggested Zip stay overnight for observation. His two companions hadn't been so lucky. One had broken his right leg in three places and had to have surgery to repair the damage. The other boy had sustained internal injuries. It made her sick to think of her son's stupidity. Kissing him gently on the forehead, she quietly slipped out.

Getting off shift, Zip's mother gathered her things, planning to stay the rest of the night with her son. Before going to his room, she went to spend time in the chapel. In prayer, she gave thanks her son would be alright. Reaching into her pocket, she remembered the one-dollar bill she'd found in his pants pockets on laundry day. Tired of nagging him about emptying his pockets, she told him whatever she found in them would be hers, and that included money. Sadly, it hadn't made a dent in her son's responsibility. Looking up at the small collection box, she rose and deposited the dollar bill into it. Maybe someone else could use the message.

Someone else did. On Friday, the funds in the donation box was collected. As the money was being counted later that afternoon, a young woman with a heavy heart saw the bill. Asking the other counter next to her to watch, she exchanged it for one in her wallet. What the others didn't know was Olivia needed someone special to love her.

APRIL

April 1st.

For the Sake of Love

As of late life had been very hard for Olivia. Two years ago she'd had a beautiful wedding. To her, the future held a lifetime of living with a loving man and having children. Then without warning, those dreams were shattered when she received a call from her husband's girlfriend. The woman stated she was four months pregnant with his child. Things then went from bad to worse when Olivia starting checking out his activity on the internet. There she found contacts with not one but four other women. Not wasting any time, she moved out and filed for divorce. The road to recovery had been long and hard. What she wanted was someone or something to love.

Then one day while counting money from a local hospital donation collection, she spotted a one-dollar bill with the writing on it, which said, Smile; someone special loves you. Oh God, she hoped so. Needing the support this bill might offer, she had switched out the bill for one of her own.

What Olivia didn't know was things were lining up to change the course of her life. In the settlement of the divorce, she had been able to keep the house. It was small, but suited her needs. Her neighbor Maggie was a lovely woman in her late eighties. As of late, living on her own was becoming more and more difficult for the elderly woman.

Arriving home on Monday, Olivia walked up to her door. As she inserted the key, she could hear Butch and Cassidy's barks. The pair of terriers had come from the same litter. Wild and rambunctious, Olivia knew they were a handful for Maggie. The older woman had fallen in love with them when a girl at a local supermarket had been giving them away. From the start, Olivia had been helping Maggie care for the puppies. Each day after having her own dinner, Olivia would go next door to walk the pair. Settling her purse on the end of her couch, she found it strange the dogs kept on barking. Concerned, she went next door.

There she found her neighbor sprawled on the floor. Grabbing up the phone, Olivia dialed 911. An hour later an ambulance was taking Maggie to the hospital. Since the dogs needed care, she gathered their things and took them next door to her house.

It was two days later Olivia learned that Maggie would not be returning home. Tripping over the dogs, the fall had caused Maggie to break her hip and dislocating her shoulder. Because she had laid there most of the day, the injuries were worse. When her son came by, he told Olivia his mother was being transferred to an assistant living center which did not accept dogs, adding that Butch and Cassidy were going to the pound if she didn't take them.

"I'll take them!" she stated with furry for she'd never liked Maggie's son.

As if understanding they had been recused, Oliva found her face licked with kisses of gratitude.

Only soon Olivia found that she had bitten off a little more than she could chew. The pups were into everything. Butch and Cassidy were only eight months old and Olivia learned that they hadn't even been potty trained. Yet love was there. Sitting down with her laptop. Olivia began to figure out what she needed to know. As she searched different websites, she discovered an ad for a puppy training class starting this Sunday.

Looking down at the two dogs snoozing at her feet, Olivia chuckled. "If there's room, we're going to be going to school," she told the pair. Then typing in her information on the online application, hit send To her delight, she soon learned there was room for her to attend the classes. Calling her cousin that she was closest to, Olivia explained her dilemma. With two dogs, she needed an extra person.

A great lover of animals, Javier agreed to tag along. When Sunday rolled around he found he'd really enjoyed the class. As they parted ways after the first session, Olvia offered him a few dollars for his time. Money was tight for Javier, and it didn't help matters that he was at odds with his parents. Accepting the cash, he spotted the bill with the writing on it. "You trying to tell me something cuz?" he asked.

"Maybe?" Olivia replied and left it at that.

April 9th

Striking a Balance

Looking out his bedroom window, Javier thought about the two jobs he had on his schedule today. Last night's rain was going to make them a bit messy, but he didn't mind for Javier loved being outside. Wanting to be warm for the morning, he tugged a battered thermal shirt over his head before grabbing up a plaid long-sleeved shirt. Picking up his wallet, he thought of the one dollar bill his cousin had given him. On it was the words Smile; someone special loves you. The message was comforting as of late. As he reached for the knob of his bedroom door, he wondered which parent he'd run into this morning.

Since graduating from high school, he'd been at odds with them. Both of his parents had come to America to make a better life for them and their children. From the time Javier had entered high school, he'd been told he was going to go to college. But he'd hated school even when he'd been in elementary. His only favorite subject had been recess and when he entered middle school it had been PE, though Javier did discover he had an aptitude for math.

For the last two years, Javier had taken on odd jobs. Gardening, painting and construction to name a few. Anything where hands were used, made him happy, which including fixing things. Working was his main focus as well as figuring out a budget. When there were plenty of jobs to keep him busy, Javier put part of what he earned away, so when times were lean, he'd have something to fall back on. No, he wasn't making a fortune, but he was making things work for now. Why couldn't his parents understand that he didn't want a high-power job in some stuffy office? Leaving that dream to his sister, Javier headed out to face the day.

At the kitchen table of their small house, his father was dressed for work. Though as of late the argument had died down, Javier could see the disappointment on his father's face. Working as a custodian for as far back as Javier could remember, his father did his job with pride, as did his mother who worked cleaning rooms for a large hotel. The same pride went through Jaiver each time he completed a job.

"Where to today?" his father asked blandly.

"I've got lawns to cut and if I'm lucky, Bruce might call me to help him with one of his projects."

Letting his mind drift back, Javier remembered how they met. He had been loading up to leave a job when Javier had seen Bruce's crew needed a hand moving several large sheets of plywood. Walking over to them, he offered to help. When they had finished Bruce paid Javier for his time. Interested in what they were doing he'd hung around for the rest of day, and had learned a few things.

The grunt expressed by his father signaled Javier's choice of work was acceptable for now. When the new semester at the local junior college started, Javier was sure he and his parents would have words again. Silently the two men were eating their morning meal when Jimena breezed in. Seeing the tension, she garbed a banana and hurried out. Taking a heavy jacket off a peg, Javier bid his father farewell.

The morning was still cool, with a crispness in the air from the recent rain. Opening the garage, Javier loaded what he would need for the day as his father headed out. Calling to his sister to get a move on, Javier locked up the house.

After dropping his sister off at school, Javier headed over to Mrs. Beverly's who was first on his schedule. She'd be off to work when he arrived, but a check would be waiting for him, along with a list to things to do. The work would take the better part of the morning. Within the hour, Javier was shedding his jacket. By eleven, he was at Mrs. Greenwood's. The small lawn, front and back would take no more than an hour. Halfway through the job his cell phone rang. It was Bruce.

"You up to helping me put in a garbage disposal?"

"Sure am," Javier stated eagerly and noted down the address.

At three they met where the job was to take place. Together they tore out the old, but this time with Bruce's instruction, Javier was the one to install the device. The boy caught on quickly, Bruce thought as they worked side by side. Javier was also thorough as they cleaned up.

"Got time for a cup of coffee?" Bruce invited.

The day still had a bit of chill to it and Javier was up to something warm. At the local coffee shop, the child in the boy crept out as he ordered a mocha with an extra swirl of whip cream. When the two sat down, Bruce spoke what was on his mind. "What are your plans for the future?" He could see the young man's back go up. "You're good at what you do," Bruce said quickly. "I just don't want to see talent likes yours wasted."

"I like doing odd jobs. Can't seem to get my parents to understand that. I'm tired of sitting in a desk all day, learning stuff that isn't going to do me any good."

"I teach classes on the weekend," Bruce invited. When he saw a wall literally go up between them, Bruce sweetened the pot. "A lot of what is taught is hands on. Having some education behind you could open more doors for you to get a job that pays a lot more than what you're making now."

"Really?" Javier asked.

"And it might get your parents off your back about schooling." Now that he had the boy's interest, Bruce told what courses would be offered. Glancing at his watch, Bruce saw it was time he headed for home. The wife would have dinner ready soon, and she hated when he was late. "Think about it," Bruce said and left.

Finishing his mocha, Javier thought of how he might present the classes Bruce was talking about to his parents. He knew of the college funds they had set aside for both their children. Rising, Javier saw the tip jar at the cash register. Looking at the kids, most of which were his age were busy behind the counter. Javier knew they were in the same place as he was, working to reach a dream or just to survive. Taking out his wallet, he dropped a few ones into the jar, including the one with the special writing.

After closing, the night manager counted up all the tips, then divided the amount among the day's workers. As he worked, the special bill caught him by surprise. Grinning, he thought of the one employee who'd get a kick out of something like this.

April 16th

Spreading Kindness

Joy lived up to her name. With a sunny nature, she enjoyed bringing a gentle touch into other's lives. Working in the local coffee shop three days a week, she greeted each customer with a smile, thanking them when they remembered to leave a tip for the store's services. One customer had left an unusual one-dollar bill that had said, Smile; someone special loves you. When the day's tips had been divided, she'd been the one to receive it.

Since she had graduated this past June, Joy wasn't letting any moss grow under her feet. Her goal in life was to be a pediatric nurse that specialized in the care of children with life-threatening diseases or illnesses. While she waited for acceptance into the nursing program for training, she volunteered at the hospital.

On the pediatric ward and treatment center, she read and played games with children. Other times, she soothed and comforted frightened little ones. Many of the patients became depend on her support. One such little girl was Emily.

Suffering from cancer, Emily had been coming to the hospital for treatment each week. From what Joy had learned the seven-year-old had serval more weeks to go. Since the child and her mother had become dependent on Joy being with them through Emily's treatment, the young woman made her way down to the oncology ward.

Joy had no sooner stepped onto the ward when she heard Emily's cries. Checking her watch, Joy knew she was on time. If they could get a patent in sooner sometimes the nurses started treatment earlier than planned. Rushing down the hall, the nurse at the admitting station buzzed Joy through.

"NO!!!!!!" Emily screamed. Even though she was thin from the effect of the chemo drugs, Emily fought valiantly. Two nurses were struggling to hold the girl still.

"Em," Joy called out, as she moved into place.

Releasing their hold, the child flew into Joy's outstretched arms. Glancing with understanding and sympathy at Margo, Emily's mother, Joy soothed the child. Experience had taught Joy the strains cancer brought to families.

"I've got her," Joy told Margo. "Take a break for a few minutes."

Taking a seat in the treatment chair, Joy knew what was expected. "We have to do this," she crooned to the child. "So let's play our game. What should we be today?"

"Astronaut," Emily's voice quivered as the nurse came forward. Though she held the syringe behind her back, the child knew what was about to happen.

The first step was two shots that had to be given in the belly. As they were administered, Joy began creating a list of what they would need as they traveled into space. Though tears ran, Emily played the game, whimpering when the IV was inserted in her small arm.

"I had a book in my hand," Joy said as she shifted the child to make her more comfortable. "I think I dropped it in the hallway."

When the book was found, Joy began to read the story of the fairy princess. By the third page, Emily had drifted off to sleep.

Margo had returned by then, her face red from the crying jag she apparently had. "I tried to tell her you were coming. The nurses said it was best we get started. Maybe we should have waited."

Not passing judgment, Joy replied, "I'm here now." Reaching over she squeezed Margo's hand. "You're both are doing fine."

When the IV was finished, Emily didn't stir as the nurse removed the needle. Gently, Joy shifted the child. "Time to go home, Em," she said softly. Slowly the girl's eyes opened.

Knowing the mother needed a little TLC, Joy walked with them to their car. Once Emely was buckled in, Joy turned to Margo. Wrapping her arms around the tired woman, Joy slipped the special dollar bill into Margo's jacket pocket.

"See the two of you next week," Joy said and wished them a safe journey home. Standing in the parking lot, Joy watched them drive away, hoping when the dollar was found, it would soothe and maybe brighten this mother's troubled spirit.

April 23rd

A Family United

It was approaching mid-night and Margo was having her usual trouble sleeping. To make ends meet, John had taken the graveyard shift at the plant to make more money. He would be home soon, she reminded herself. Getting up, Margo decided to make the rounds by checking on her family. As she slipped on her rob, Margo thought of the one-dollar bill sitting on her dresser. On it was written the message, Smile; someone special loves you. She wasn't sure when the bill had been slipped into her pocket, but she knew it had to be the nurse's aide at the hospital. The young woman's kindness touched her heart. The message was delivered loud and clear, for several people in the Jameson's household loved and cared for each other.

When she had met John in high school it was love at first sight. To make their families happy the young couple had waited until finishing junior college, but by the age 20 they were married and expecting their first child shortly before their first anniversary.

Charlotte had been born healthy and was followed by her brothers over the course of a few years. Because Margo had wanted an even number of children, they had tried for one more. Her pregnancy with Emily had been difficult, nearly losing the child in the fourth month. Though Margo had been very careful, Emily was born nearly two months premature. The family had weather that storm and for a long time, Emily thrived. Then at age six, she began complaining of back pain. The family doctor dismissed it as growing pains, but Margo's motherly instinct said differently. After pushing for several months, the doctor relented and looked deeper. The diagnosis was cancer.

Something like that could tear some families apart, but the Jameson's had united. Quietly, Margo opened the door to her boy's room. Todd and Jake were sound asleep on the bunk beds. These two remarkable boys were always kind to their little sister, never whining about the extra attention she was given or the things they had to go without so Emily could get the medicine she so desperately needed.

Closing their door, Margo next went to her girls' room. Stepping inside, she found Emily in bed, surrounded by all her stuffed animals she loved so much. Her little girl was a social creature and missing school had been one of the hardest parts of her illness. Sitting on the edge of Emily's bed, Margo stroked her seven-year-old's hair. As she did so, Margo looked across to where her sixteen-year-old slept. Like her husband, Charlette had been a rock Margo could lean upon. Yes, she was blessed by loads of love, and yet ... Rising, Margo slipped out of the room, leaving her daughters sleeping. The front door opened right then, and feeling that sense of relief, Margo went to meet her husband.

"You should be asleep," he scolded gently. "Emily has another treatment tomorrow and I know how that wears you out."

"Couldn't get there tonight." Walking into her husband's arms, Margo felt at peace.

"Need to hit the shower. Why don't you sit with me while I do? Then we can talk a bit before we both get to sleep."

His listening was a balm to Margo's worries, but John was never home when she brought Emily back from treatment. The next day, both entered the house exhausted. There Charlette stood in the kitchen, tonight's dinner on the stove. After settling Emily in, Margo went to see what she could do about finishing up the evening meal.

"I've got it mom," her older daughter stated, as she stirred the large pan of sauce. "It needs to simmer for an hour. The boys got their chores done and are down the street playing with some friends. I told them when to be back." Tears welled up in her mother's eyes. Walking to her, Charlette put her arms around Margo to soothe.

"I'm so sorry," Margo cried.

"For what?" the girl asked in surprise.

"You should be going out on dates, visiting friends, even working at a small job or babysitting if you wanted to. Instead, you're here minding your brothers, cooking dinner and cleaning the house, while I tend to your sister."

"Mom," Charlette said with patience. "That's what families do. We take care of each other in both the good times and the bad. Em needs us all now. I have plenty of time in school to be with my friends and when you can, dad and you see I get a few extras." Walking back over to the stove, Charlette put the kettle on so her mother could have a cup up tea.

Later that night as Margo once again waited for her husband to come home, she slipped into her daughters' room. Leaving the special one-dollar bill on her dresser, she hoped to show how much Charlette was appreciated.

April 29th

Standing One's Ground

At sixteen, Charlette chose to take on the responsibility of getting her two younger brothers off to school, in order to give her parents the ability to focus on their younger sister's needs. Emily's health issues were taking its toll on the family as a whole, but they would weather the storm. Gathering her things, Charlette paused as she thought how her parents had become dependent on what she did. So much so, last week her mother had left a unique dollar on her dresser that read: Smile; someone special loves you. That simple gesture made all she did worth the effort.

Shortly after leaving the house, she and her brothers began to go their separate ways. After dropping Jake off at his best friend's house, so the two could later walk to school, Charlette and Todd made their way to the local elementary school where they caught different busses to the middle and high school in town.

At Westwood High, Charlette easily stepped into the flow of her education. With dreams of becoming a journalist, she studied hard. Good grades were her ticket to the scholarships she'd need to further her education. For the sake of experience, she worked on the school paper.

At lunchtime, she raced to Mr. Brady's classroom. There Charlette found other students hard at work putting the final touches on the paper they published bi-monthly. Articles ranged from special events to induvial stories. As of late, she'd been working on a piece about school spirit. Once a month a rally was held, ending with each class having a shout off. The students showing the most spirit would be awarded the Spirit Bell. Research had shown her something interesting. This year's graduation class had never once earned the bell. In fact, they had been given the name, The Dud class. Showing her findings to the teacher in charge, Brady had given her permission to run with it.

Taking her findings to the seniors, Charlette interviewed several of them for their opinion and received comments like "Never, are you sure?"; "No, we've won it a few time."; "That's can't be true." Though many didn't think much of her question, it did stir up discussion among the graduating class. On Wednesday Charlette was stopped by the two girls who were in charge of their class spirit.

"What do you think you're doing?" one girl demanded. "You've got a lot of seniors pissed off at us."

"By asking questions?" Charlotte replied, standing her ground.

"Look," the other said, getting into her face. "Shut your mouth and go report on the daisies growing in the fields."

"Look," Charlette mimicked back. "Consider doing your job." In the interest of being fair with her story, she'd made sure her facts were accurate. "Other spirit leaders do things to get their classmates excited. From what I've observed of you two, you're more interested in your popularity than your fellow classmates."

"Sounds like you need to be put in your place."

"Can I quote you on that in the school paper," Charlette shot back and that had the two girls backing off.

Before heading home, Charlette stopped by Mr. Brady's classroom. Sharing the confrontation, she asked his advice. "People don't like it when you expose their bad side. My advice is to watch your back."

The next day at school, Charlette found a note shoved in her locker, threatening to spread a nasty rumor about her around the school. Taking it to Mr. Brady, Charlette asked what to do.

"When you're a journalist, you're not going to win a popularity contest for exposing the truth. We could take this to the principal, but you'd have a hard time proving it was them. Again, I'm going to tell you to watch your back. With this," he said pointing to the letter, "I'd say it's time we do some articles on bullying. You interested?"

"Yes."

Taking the teachers advice, Charlette walked with Ernie to the gym the following day. "I heard a rumor that the senior class fired their spirit leaders," Ernie told her

"So did I. The ones they put in their place have really been stirring up the seniors' enthusiasm," Charlette added as they entered the big gym.

The kids on the paper were allowed to sit in a small section with the band. Taking her seat, Charlette saw the defunct spirit leaders sitting in the crowd. Like the other spirit leaders in the gym, a guy and girl duo were leading the seniors in a chant, making the noise in the room deafening. Finally, the principal stepped up to quiet things down. Announcements were made like the basketball team's continuous winning streak, progress on other events, ending with the band playing a few songs. Then the shout off began.

A committee of two students from each grade were selected to be judges. For the first time since their freshmen years, the seniors gave this round all they had. The judges quickly debated. Then it was announced that it was a tie between the seniors and sophomores. Things seemed to go mad for a few seconds. When the room quieted, each class was allowed to shot the school's slogan. Again the judges met, once more declaring a tie. This time emotions were running high. The seniors poured everything they had into this last effort, including the defunct spirit leaders. With jumps and screams, the seniors roared. When they were awarded the Spirit Bell, there were hugs and tears of joy.

Later that day, Charlette turned in her article for the school papers, ending with the determined seniors' victory. As Mr. Brady read, he nodded with approval. "Nice piece," he commented.

Pleased with the compliment, Charlette decided to express her appreciation. Pulling out the special one from her wallet, she went to the shelf where Mr. Brady stored notebooks for students to buy. Quietly Charlette slipped the money into the box, then walked away without taking a book.

MAY

May 7th

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Stepping into his classroom, Mike Brady replenished the notebooks he kept on a shelf for his students. It was his way of encouraging creative writing. Some took books to keep as journals, others to write short stories or poetry. All he asked was a dollar for the books if they could afford it. Looking into the tin can he kept on the shelf, Mike spotted two dollars. Taking them out, he added them to the loose cash he kept in his pocket. As he slipped the funds away, his mind flashed back to last week. One of his students had dropped in a dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you. The gesture had humbled him, for Mike was never sure if he was reaching his students or not.

In life, teaching had never been his true desire for a profession. In his late forties, Mike Brady was sure he'd be a successful author, but that breakout book had never come. He'd published a few stories and one had done pretty well for a while, but not enough to sustain himself and his family. So, teaching English as a second language in the local high school was where his future lay.

A bright spot in his career was running the school paper. Here he had a chance to work with students' eager minds. He'd also learned that looks could be deceiving. Charlotte was one such student. She always seemed so happy and outgoing. Then one day to his surprise, Mike had learned Charlette had a younger sister struggling with cancer. Another student with an odd background was Ernie. Being raised in foster care since the age of six, the junior was tall and thin as a beanpole, with feet like boats. The goofy expression on his face suggested he was more of a goofball than a kid with a brain. Throw a math problem at Ernie and the boy could solve it in a second. Ask for a historical fact, Ernie knew the answer. Need to research a subject, Ernie was your man.

Some of his classmates picked on him, yet Ernie seemed to take their comments in stride. In his freshmen year, Mike had learned that some of the boys from the senior class had gone so far as to dump Ernie in the dumpster. Because there wasn't anyone to stand up for Ernie, nothing was ever done to punish the culprits. Yet later when that same group of boys needed tutoring to pass their economics class so they could stay on the football team, it was Ernie who volunteered to help out, showing he held no grudge against his fellow students.

During lunch today, Mike watched Charlette and Ernie work on an article. In his opinion, Charlette was a very pretty girl. Slim, her strawberry blond hair was neatly tied back with a ribbon. Grey eyes were watchful as she listened to Ernie talk about the piece they had written together on bullying and what the school was doing about the problem. Over the last few weeks, Mike had watched a friendship developing between the pair. Today it was Charlette who gave Ernie a peck on the cheek. It was sweet to watch the young man blush.

No, Mike wasn't the next great America Novelist, but what he did made him content. Later that day when Mike was heading home, he pulled out his keys, not noticing the small amount of cash tumbling out of his pocket. As he back out of his parking place, the wind picked of the bills, scattering them around. The special bill tumbled and floated on the wind until it rested under a bush, waiting patiently for the next life to touch.

May 16th

A Second Chance

Under a bush, a special bill waited to touch a life in need. When a little injured dog crawled close by, the wind blew the one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you, next to the animal. Whimpering, the animal waited for just that.

Things had suddenly changed for No-name. At one time she had been a princess, who had the run of the house. Her owner had been a lovely woman, who had done her best to care for her pet, but failing health had made that difficult. The man in the house had been kind and gentle, doing what the woman could not. Then one horrible day everything changed. Without warning, No-name had been shoved outside. There had been bright lights and loud noises, then the woman was gone. The next thing No-name knew the kind man had become angry. For nearly a week No-name's bowls for food and water remained mainly empty. When she barked in protest, the man came out and yelled at her. The once soft bed she'd had in the house had been reduced to the overgrown grass and weeds in the backyard.

One morning No-name barked and barked hoping someone would meet her needs. The angry man came out. Without warning, he grabbed her up. Scared No-name yelped. The man carried her through the house. Outside, the man tossed her in the car. Shaking, No-name hunkered down on the seat. Tired, the movement of the car lulled No-name to sleep, then was rudely awakened when she was shoved out on the street. Standing on the sidewalk, No-name watched as the angry man drove away.

On her own, No-name traveled through the streets, eating whatever she could find and drinking water which pooled in the street's gutters. A few days later she spotted food on the other side of the street. Hurrying toward it, No-name didn't see the car. She almost made it across when the front tire on the passenger's side brushed her back leg. The driver either didn't care or hadn't seen the little dog as the car continued on its journey. Limping, No-name managed to get to the other side. Then walking gingerly up to the building, curled on the ground against it for shelter. The food forgotten, she licked her injured back leg, ignoring when the dollar bill landed beside her.

With the weather warming, Cheryl realized school would soon be out for the summer. She liked arriving to work early each day, allowing her to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee at her desk before students and staff arrived at Westwood High School. Walking up to the front of the building, Cheryl heard the whimper. Looking over at the bushes, she spotted the white mass of fur. The small dog was bleeding from its hind quarter.

"You poor baby," Cheryl crooned as she walked over to the animal. In response, its tail wagged. "Friendly aren't you?" The animal tried to stand, but it was obviously hurt. Pulling out her cell phone, Cheryl dialed her sister's number. "Leann, I found a hurt dog. Looks to be a poodle mix. Can you come?"

Twenty minutes later Leann squatted down in front of No-name, Leann laid a blanket next to her. Gently she called to the dog. Whimpering, No-name did her best to come to the woman who held out treats. It had been a long time since gentle hands had stroked her. The memory made No-name let out a little bark of joy. Grateful, No-name licked the hand of her rescuer. "You're a love. Did you escape, or did someone dump you?" Leann asked as she petted the little dog. "We'll find your owner or a new home for you." Seeing the bill laying beside the dog, Leann picked it up. Reading it, she commented to the animal. "Looks like someone special is watching over you.

"I've got her," Leann said to her sister. "We'll take care of her now."

Once in the car, Leann called her husband Don. The couple owned a care facility on the outskirts of town for unwanted or stray animals. At the shelter, No-name was examined. "She's been well taken care of until recently," Leann's husband said. The scape on her hind leg was only a minor injury, but enough to give the dog pain. After cleaning and medicating the wound, the little dog seemed to perk up in spirit.

A scan revealed No-name had been chipped. After calling the center to get the necessary contact information, a call was placed on the behalf of No-name. "She escaped," the man lied. "The dog belonged to my wife. She's passed and I don't want it. Find her a new home, or put her down," the man stated before abruptly hanging up the phone.

"Well," Leann said. "Looks like for now you'll be staying with us." The little dog barked and wagged its tail gratefully. Taking the one-dollar bill out of her pocket, Leann looked at it.

"What's that?" Don asked.

"A special dollar bill. Whoever gets this dog, gets the bill." And to make her point, Leann tacked the money up on the bulletin board. "Now she needs a name."

"Penny," her husband suggested.

"Why Penny?"

Pointing to what was pinned to the board, Don laughed. "One hundred pennies equal a dollar."

Though the logic didn't make sense, the name sure fit the dog.

Two days later Agnes came in. Since her husband's passing, she'd been at loose ends. Sitting in Leann's home, Agnes explained. "George had been sick for a long time and the last two years were the hardest. I took an early retirement so I could take care of him. The doctors said what was wrong with him was serious enough to need round the clock care. I'm finically secure, and I have no wish to go back to work, but desire some company. Several friends said that a dog might be what I need to give me the companionship I'm looking for. We had dogs for many years. Our old girl Gracie died, five years ago. I think it's time I have another, but I want the right dog. One that's fun and will need looking after. I'm up for a challenge."

"I think I have just the dog for you," Leann said. Leading the way to the kennels, Leann knew the minute when Agnes and Penny spotted each other, it would be a perfect match. The little dog rushed over to the edge of the cage, barking madly as the women approached. Opening the door, Leann let Penny out. Yes, it was love at first sight.

As the paperwork was filled out, Leann pulled the dollar bill off the board. "We found this next to her and decided her new owner should have it."

Looking at the bill Agnes laugh. "Yes," she said nuzzling Penny. "Someone special loves you."

May 21rd

Forgiveness Comes in All Sizes

With dinner out of the way, Angus settled on the couch to read. Her little dog Penny pranced around, playing happily with her toys. Looking at the little dog, Angus once again was pleased with her decision to have a pet. Penny had been a rescue. From what the shelter had told Angus, Penny had been found abandon and hurt. When she'd been rescued, a dollar bill was lying next to her, with the words Smile; someone special loves you, written across it. The staff had passed the dog and the bill onto Angus. Since the two seemed to go together, Angus had purchased a small pouch to hang on the leash's handle. In it, she kept poop bags to clean up any of Penny's messes when they walked and the one-dollar bill.

A sudden bark had Angus looking up from her book. At her feet was Penny. Prancing, the dog barked once more, then nudged at the leash it had brought over. "Okay, girl," Angus said, putting down her book. "I get the hint. Time for our evening walk.

As she headed out, Angus thought of her life. Just this past January she'd been widowed. Her husband Gregory had suffered from a lung condition. When his health had taken a turn for the worse two years ago, Angus had retired early. Over the years, the couple had invested well, and that had been a blessing. After her husband's passing, Angus hadn't been forced to return to work, but was free to choose how to spend her time. It had been a blessing and a curse. Since she desired companionship, Angus decided on the four-legged kind.

Many of the people in the neighborhood had been kind when Gregory had passed, so Angus had gotten to know them. Walking, she enjoyed a friendly hello, accompanied by a short chant.

"And how's your new friend doing," April was asked as the pair walked by.

"Doing quilt well. Her leg is healing nicely. Though I have to say she has a mind of her own. Insists on sharing my bed, even though I bought one of her own. I guess she prefers my company over sleeping alone."

"Never like them sleeping with me. Charlie has his own and he knows it," April, who lived on the next street over shot back.

Bidding her friend a farewell, Angus continued on. She watched with amusement as two teenaged girls tried to ride a bike that was more suited for a ten-year-old. They were peddling slow, so when they spilled onto the ground with laughter, no one was hurt.

Continuing on her walk, Angus caught sight of a man in his late thirties. On the second day of hers and Penny's walk, the man seemed very much surprised to see them and Penny barked happily at the man, her tail wagging madly. Once again, he was out front. From the bags in his hand, he'd obviously been grocery shopping. As the pair walked pass, Penny tugged on the leash, letting out a happy little barked. Puzzled, Angus stopped when Penny continued to rush towards the stranger.

"Do you know this dog?" she asked as the man only stared.

"No," he said abruptly and went inside.

Looking down at Penny, the dog seemed puzzled by the man's action.

Curious, Angus deiced to chat with April about the man's strange behavior the next day. "That's Barney Wilbert. He lost his wife close to a month ago. From what I've been told, she'd been frail for a long time. Then just like your Gregory, got a bout of that nasty flu that was going around and died. Pour Barney been so bitter about it. No one seems to be able to reach him."

"Did he have a dog?" Angus asked.

"Come to mention it, I know Shelly, that's his neighbor, said he did. She often heard it barking a lot right after the Misses died. Then one day, it came up missing. That's what Barney said, but he didn't appear to be too upset with it gone."

Deciding to find out more, Angus stopped by without her dog. When Barney opened the door, Angus asked. "Do I have your dog?"

"I don't have a dog."

"My Penny seems to know you."

"I don't know your Pansy."

"I said Penny," Angus corrected.

"That's what I said," the man snapped.

Not wanting to cause trouble, Angus chose to return some of the kindness she'd received from the neighborhood. "I understand your wife passed recently. So has my husband."

"What, you want to start a club," Barney replied sarcastically.

"Young man, I don't appreciate your rudeness. All I'm saying is if you need someone to talk to during this difficult time of your life, I'd be willing to listen." Then she shoved a piece of paper in his and with her name and address on it.

Two days later, Penny was barking madly. Leaving the dinner she had been preparing, Agnus went to see who was at her front door. This time it was Angus who was surprised.

"Um," Barney said awkwardly. The man seemed so sad. "I was hoping that offer to talk was still available."

"Come in. I was just fixing a salad for dinner. Would you like to join me?"

"If it wouldn't be any trouble."

Penny seemed to prance at the man's feet. Bending down, he reached for the dog. Like old times, Penny preened under the man's touch. Angus caught the interaction between the pair, but said nothing. What was going on, tugged at her heart.

When the two sat down, Barney said nothing. Gently Angus got the ball rolling. "I believe you know Penny."

"Her name is actually Pansy. My wife named her that because she reminded Laurel of flowers, their brightness, and beauty. I gave her the little dog as a Christmas present one year. Laurel tended to pamper her. Last month we'd run out of dog food because I forgot to get some. My wife could be a bit impatient at times. I told her I'd pick some up after work, but Laurel got a friend to drive her to the store to get the food. It was shortly after that my wife got sick. After she died, I blamed the dog." A tinge of red crept up into the man's face. "She was barking one night and wouldn't stop. I got fed up and the next day I abandoned her on the other side of town. When they called and said they found her, I told them to deal with her."

Happily, Penny had curled up by Barney's feet. Looking down at her pet, Angus felt a tug. "Looks to me like she's forgiven you. Maybe you should forgive yourself." Reaching over, Angus laid a hand on Barney's before making a suggestion. "I've been involved with a group that offers the kind of counseling people like us need. Let me put you in contact with them." Though it pained her, she took the next step. "If you want Pansy ..."

"No," Barney said kindly. "She's Penny now and your dog."

Relief spread on Angus's face. "Then let me offer you something different." Getting up, Angus retrieved the dollar bill. "This was found next to Penny. I think you should have it, to remind you to smile, for someone special still loves you."

May 26th

A Journey of Healing

Spring was in full bloom when Barney opened his garage door. It was the first time he'd done so this year. The sudden death of his wife not so long ago had made life next to impossible to bear. That is until someone in the neighborhood had reached out, handing him a dollar bill with the words, Smile; someone special loves you written across the front. Taking it had been the first step to finally dealing with the grief he carried inside him. The second had been to accept an invitation to attend a grief class.

There Barney had begun to see how his negative attitude and actions were not only hurting others, but himself as well. Running a hand over the dresser stored in the garage, he thought of all the plans he and his wife had before an autoimmune disease began to rob April of her life. When she'd come down with the flu, despite getting the flu shot, the virus brought her life to a quick end.

Now Barney needed to get his life back on track. His first step was to write a letter to his fellow co-workers, apologizing and asking for the help he needed to recover. It had been met with mixed responses. The second letter had been written to family and friends.

Picking up a sanding block, Barney began to consider how best to remove the paint and restore the piece of furniture back to its natural wood. He like fixing things, for tinkering was a hobby of his. April would sit out here with him for many an hour as Barney worked on this or that. An old toaster for Mrs. Murry down the street, or the time he'd taken three VCRs and had made one working unit of what others had discarded. As he stood there reminiscing, a young voice caught his attention.

Turning he saw Sally standing in his driveway, her pretty new bike leaning against her. Shyly she walked up to him. "Mr. Wilbur. My bike chain came off." Often children came to him with flat tires, or other such problems with bikes, skateboards and other items.

Walking over, he crouched down. "Are you still sad Mrs. Wilbur isn't here?" the child asked innocently.

"Yes Sally, I am. But I'm learning to live on. Let me get a tool and I'll have you back on the road in a jiffy." And sure enough, within five minutes, Sally was happily riding off.

As the child traveled down the street, Barney noticed a familiar car. Before long, it pulled into his driveway. Alvin got out carefully. The two brothers had hardly spoken since April's funeral. "Got your email. Glad to see you're getting your head out of your rear end."

"Not there yet, but am working on it. Got time for a beer?"

"I can take the time for one." Walking inside, Alvin studied the dresser he'd once hauled over. "You going to finish working on this?"

"Considering. Don't know what I'll do with it once it's been refinished."

"My girl could use it if you're in the mood to sell."

"Or we could barter for it. You come over and help me work on it, while Sherry goes through April's things. I need someone to pack her stuff up and hall it away."

Shaking his head, Alvin came up with a better plan. "I've been through this a few times with a friend or two. Hate say it bro, but you're the one who needs to sort out April's things. But you don't have to do it alone. I know one of April's sisters would be willing to come over and help."

The idea had merit, so Barney did just that. When June came over, the two stood in front of the room he and April once shared. When he'd gotten home that first night after April's death, Barney moved out of the room, leaving her stuff inside.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?", June asked, watching her brother-in-law carefully.

"No, but it's got to be done."

"When you have enough, you say so." Then standing back, June let Barney open the door.

It was like walking into the past. He could still remember his wife's labored breathing. The frantic call to 911. The wait for help to arrive felt like hours, when in reality it only took fifteen minutes before EMS got there. Then she was whisked away. Painful tears flooded his face as Barney stood there. Respectfully June waited. When her brother-in-law took the first step into the room, she knew he was ready to begin.

They worked for an hour before he'd had all he could handle. Standing by his wife's low vanity, Barney studied her collection of jewelry. They had no children, and he didn't want to keep any of it. Picking up a small music box, he lifted the lid. The tune I'll Be With You Always chime out.

"I'd like to have a jewelry party," Barney chuckled. "Let you and the rest of April's sisters come over. Maybe even some of the nieces too. You girls can divide up April's jewelry." Closing the lid, he thought of Sophie, the one niece April had been the closest to.

"I'll talk to them about it," June offered. "You let us know when's a good day and time."

"Okay."

When June left the room to take the first load of clothing out to her car, Barney pulled the one dollar bill out of his wallet. Opening the lid, he slid the money inside. When June returned, Barney stated. "How about this Friday. I'll give you a key and you gals can enjoy yourselves. For me, I think I'll go hang with my family. In the meantime, I'd like Sophie to have this."

"I'll drop it off on my way home." Walking over, June gave Barney a hug. "It's going to take a while to heal, but I'm glad to see you finally started."

JUNE

June 8th

Finding Your Passion

Sitting on her bed, Sophia ran her hands over one of her two dogs. Max and Minnie were rescues. The pair of mixed bread Chihuahua were very loyal and loving. Training them had been one of Sophia's pleasures and she had great pride in showing off their abilities.

As for Sophia, she felt at loose ends. The death of her Aunt April had hit her hard. On her dresser sat a small jewelry box that once had belonged to her aunt, given to her via her uncle. Several pieces of jewelry had been selected for her, but tucked inside was a one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you. When she'd been down, or confused with life, April was the one she went to.

The future had never been a clear path for Sophia. She remembered her first day of high school. Stepping onto campus, she thought to herself, In four short years I'll be graduating. She had, but her grades had not been anything stellar. With her parents' encouragement, she entered junior college, and just a few days ago had graduated with an AA in Business management. What she was going to do with her degree, Sophia hadn't a clue.

Tired, she crawled under her covers. Tomorrow was another day, and maybe she'd get an answer. "Aunt April, I wish you were here to talk to."

The happy barks of her dogs woke Sophia. Sitting up, she found herself staring into her aunt's face. "Aunt April!" Sophia cried out. Reaching out, she was shocked that her aunt was solid.

"Yes," April replied. "But only for a very short time. Sophia, what are you going to do with the rest of your life?" Hunching her shoulders, the young woman said nothing. "If you asked me, I'd tell you to find what you're passionate about and follow that." When the statement was met with silence, April looked at Max and Minnie. "You love animals. Why not something in that field?"

"Mom and dad said there's no future there."

"But they're not living your life. You need to take steps toward something that will give you a career and enjoyment." And with that said, April began to fade away.

"Aunt April!" Sophia cried out again and was startled awake. The room was dark and she was alone, except for the dogs, who sat perched beside her. The pair stared as at the end of the bed as if someone had been sitting there. Blinking, Sophia cocked her head, for she was sure she heard her aunt's voice saying, "Find your passion."

The next day, Sophia sat in the backyard with Carly and her six-month-old Germany Shepard pup Hugo. "Mom said if he doesn't start shaping up, I'm going to have to get rid of him. He's digging, and barking all the time."

"He's bored," Sophia stated.

"Bored, he's a dog," Carly retorted.

"He's a little kid who's bored. And he needs training. Wait here." Going into the house, Sophia got some treats. Working with Hugo, she had the dog sitting on command within minutes.

"Wow," Carly said. "You should start training dogs. I'd pay for lessons from you. And I know at least three people who'd do the same."

"Train dogs?" Sophia asked.

"Yeah. You're great."

It was an idea. She was passionate about animals. Going to the library the next day, Sophia began doing some research. No, it wasn't a job that brought in big bucks, but there were serval options. A passion, Sophia remember her aunt saying. Dropping by the local book store, she bought two books on setting up a business and one on dog training. Since her aunt had given her a direction, it was time to pass on the dollar bill, hoping it would do the same, or provide comfort for someone else. Handing it over with the money she had to pay for her purchase, Sophia left the store ready to seek what the future held.

The young person behind her paid for her purchases. When she received her change, Opal showed little interest in the writing on the bill. Stuffing it into her pocket, she headed home. As far as Opal was concerned the next week looked bleak.

June 9th

Turning Disappointment into Joy

Driving down her street towards home, Opal felt really down. Every year at this time she and her husband Marco planned a long road trip. Sadly, it wasn't going to happen this year. The funds they had set aside for their adventure had to be put into the transmission of her car. Everyone at work had wished her a great week off. Though Opal had put on a brave face, she wasn't looking forward to the time off at all. Oddly she thought of the strange dollar bill she had seen among her cash. Written across the front were the words: Smile; someone special loves you.

"If they do, I sure don't feel it," she muttered to herself, for last night she and her husband had been bickering.

When she stepped into her apartment, she found Marco had beaten her home. As was his habit, the TV was on. She tolerated it, but a week of having to listen to the news, talk shows and the sitcoms he liked was going to drive her crazy. Often, she slipped to another part of their place to escape from what he was watching. Their dream of owning a home was in their future. They had been saving diligently, allowing this one week to be their splurge, but other needs had to be considered.

Going to the kitchen, Opal unpacked the bag of grocery she'd brought home. When her husband walked in, he spotted the book she'd purchased at the bookstore for him. Thanking her, he picked it up. Tapping it against the palm of his hand, Marco considered.

"We both want out of here," he said. The music blasting from their neighbor's radio made his point. "Dipping into our household fund to go on a long trip is going to mean we'll be here longer than planned."

"I know," she muttered, "We went over all this last night."

"Yes, we did, but I came up with a solution that might make both of us happy. Let's have a staycation." Since the word seemed to intrigue his wife, Marco went to get the papers he'd been working on. Setting with him at their tiny kitchen table, Opal looked over what he'd written out. "Our biggest expense is gas and lodging. I did some checking. Did you know there are three museums that are less than an hour from here? I also found three towns that have an old-town section, with a mixture of antique and what-not shops. There's a place again that's not far where we can rent bikes and ride along scenic bike trails. Handing her an itinerary, Marco continued. "We can do something locally each day. Have a nice lunch out, then come home and be creative in fixing some fun dishes."

Flipping through the next few pages, Opal saw several interesting recipes. Since both loved to putter in the kitchen, his idea had merit. "You're on," she told her husband.

Monday morning, the couple drove to the next town. With a deli lunch in backpacks, they took off on rented bikes. For the month of June, the weather was cooperating, making the day not too hot. The extra foliage helped to make for a pleasant ride. At home that night, the couple went for Chinese, making Moo Shu Pork and shrimp fried rice. The next day they lost themselves in several shops, picking up some fresh fish. On Wednesday they hit the museums Marco had found. While they had been gone, Orange Chicken had been cooking in their crockpot. Thursday, they opted for a trip to the beach. There they had found a flier about a three-day craft fair in a town that had a restaurant they favored. As the couple contentedly walked from booth to booth, they were delighted by the different street musicians. Pausing, they listened to the young woman singing, while playing a dulcimer, making the Celtic music a delight to listen to. After nearly half an hour they decided to move on. Pausing, Opal dropped the special the unique bill she had received into the woman's tip basket in appreciation of the special treat of her songs.

June 16th

The Saving Grace of Music

Sitting on her bed Sonja counted this weekend's tips. Though it was mainly ones and fives, the amount would meet this week's needs. Pausing, she remembered to give thanks. Looking at her oddly colored dresser, Sonja saw the unusual dollar bill that had the words Smile; someone special loves you, written across the front. That much Sonja believed because she'd made it this far in life despite the rough journey she'd been on.

At the age of thirty, she considered where life had taken her so far. Born to a mother who loved booze more than her own children, Sonja was pulled into foster care at the tender age of five. Her older half brother and sister had the good fortune to be placed with their father, but for several years Sonja had the misfortune of being moved from home to home. Three times the courts tried to reunited mother and child; only have the placement fall apart each time. At the age of thirteen, Sonja was then made a ward of the court.

What had been her saving grace was music. Loving it, Sonja surrounded herself with songs, melody, and rhythm. Then in the seventh grade, she was allowed to enter into the music program, via a grant that provided musical instruments for underprivileged children. The moment the violin was put in her hands, it was pure love. After that, if someone needed to find Sonja, all they had to do was listen for the music.

Then one day a special ray of sunshine entered her life. A group of musicians came to the school. The students were treated to a concert of unique musical instruments. It was the dulcimer that spoke to Sonja's heart. The trapezoidal shaped instrument had more strings across than she could count. From her seat in the gym, Sonja watched the woman strike the dulcimer with two small mallets. The music it produced was beyond beautiful and filled Sonja's heart with joy. As students filled out, she wandered down from the bleachers.

"You like?" the musician asked when she noticed Sonja's keen interest.

"Can I try?" Sonja asked shyly.

Handing over the small pair of mallets, the woman let Sonja have a go. It was a surprise to both that Sonja picked up the last melody played with no trouble. "You're a rare find," the woman stated. "You need lessons."

"I don't think I can," Sonja responded with distress.

But Merdiean was not to be deterred, for she knew talent when she heard it. Taking the child under her wing, Sonja was invited to visit Merdiean in her home each day to practice and receive lessons. For her sixteenth birthday, Merdiean had found a damaged dulcimer and together the two repaired it, to create something of beauty.

As Sonja moved towards graduation, two things happened. In her junior year, she had formed a band. Each member played the unique or a slightly different instrument. One played a lute, another oboe, with the group rounding off with a panyard steel drum. The music they created began to draw attention, with people offering to pay for them to perform at parties, wedding, and other social events.

Like so many things in Sonja's life, at age eighteen she was informed that upon graduations, she would have to move out of her group home to be on her own. It didn't frighten her, but where was the question. The problem was solved when one of her band members suggested the group rent a house and live together. The move made sense and Sonja agreed. Since then, the group had moved twice, and over the years the members of her band had changed.

Looking around her room, Sonja knew all she owned would fit in two large suitcases, but she didn't mind. The second-hand violin she'd purchased and her beloved dulcimer were her only prized possession.

Over the years she'd been able to make contact with her half brother and sister. The three had formed a solid relationship. At peace in her heart, she had no bitterness at how her life had turned out.

"Hey," Shelton said as he passed her room. "Got an email request to do a small gig at a backyard wedding this weekend. You up for that."

"Count me in," Sonja replied.

As they set up on Saturday, she heard someone mention the couple was expecting a child in December. Before they began to play, the band was treated to the buffet being served during the reception. A lovely birdcage was set up in a corner, where people were slipping in money to wish the young couple well. Taking the bill out of her pocket, Sonja dropped it inside. Life's journey was what you made it, and she wished the young couple and their baby all the best life could offer.

June 24th

For Better or Worse

Working at her desk, Kelly was relieved her morning sickness was easing as she entered the fourth month of her pregnancy. This past weekend she had gotten married to the child's father. In among the money some people had given in lieu of gifts, was a one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you. For some strange reason, she felt compelled to hold onto it, as she pondered the question if Keith married her out of duty or love.

At 34, she had a degree in early childhood development, but had chosen to stay a secretary at Edgewater Elementary. Starting out as a sub-clerk at the school right after her graduation from high school, over the years Kelly had worked her way up into this position. Even though she had an active social life, dating had always been a problem. She never seemed to find the right man. Then at age 32, she tried an online dating service. The minute she met Keith; things clicked into place. They shared so many of the same interests and basic beliefs. Yet ....

Glancing down at the bottom desk drawer of her desk, Kelly thought of her current romance novel. There was a picture of a Southern-style home, caught in the midst of a storm. It was the classic Romeo and Juliet type story, but the couple was passionately in love. Each time she and Keith had made love, it was more like taking a warm relaxing bath. Rubbing her belly, Kelly wondered once more if she hadn't gotten pregnant would they have stayed together?

"I can't believe how many kids moved this year?" said Margaret, the school's principal. "And we have just as many new students coming in." Looking up, she saw Kelly's startled face. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. Just daydreaming a little," Kelly said, returning her attention to her computer screen.

"I want to thank you for inviting me and Douglas to the wedding. It was very lovely." When she saw only a ghost of a smile, Margaret became concerned. With the kids out for summer vacation, it was just the two of them in the office as they were closing out the old year and preparing for the new. "Are you having second thoughts?" for Margaret knew the history behind the quick nuptials of her secretary.

"Not really. Just some lingering doubts." Kelly had known Margaret for nearly ten years. They worked well together and had become friends. "You've been married to your husband for how long?"

Taking the seat next to the desk, Margaret settled in for a chat. "It was thirty years for us this past March."

"How did you stay together for so long?"

Tilting her head in thought, Margaret stated. "Stubborn. We both are stubborn people." In response, Kelly's eyes opened wide. "That surprises you. We were determined to make it work from day one. Stubbornly we love each other, respect and accept each other. Give each other space when we need it. Listen to each other and I have to say stubbornly put each other first most of the time."

"But where is the passion, the romance, the excitement?"

Laughing, Margaret tapped the bottom drawer with her foot, for she knew her secretary's weakness for romance books. "Honey, that's what fiction is made of."

"I just don't know if we got married for the right reason," Kelly said, rubbing her belly protectively.

It was something the couple should have worked out before tying the knot, but the deed was already done. So Margaret offered a different kind of advice. "Instead of doubling, invest in your marriage. Show Keith how much he means to you. Remember the old saying: It is better to give than receive." Rising, Margaret left the files on her secretary's desk.

On her way home, Kelly thought of what Margaret had said. Stubborn! Well, she could be stubborn too. Since they both worked, they took turns fixing the evening meal. Tonight, she put a little extra effort into their spaghetti dinner. As they ate, she listened to Keith's day. In return, he too asked about hers. When the meal was over, this time when they cleaned up, there was joy and laughter.

Later that night, while her husband was in the shower, Kelly saw the benefit of what a little nurturing could do. Giving her husband her attention had him opening up to her. With a giggle, Kelly retrieved the one-dollar bill shed tucked away in her dresser before going to Keith's side of the room. Listening to make sure the water was still running, she slid the bill into his wallet. Then happily blew a kiss in his direction.

JULY

July 4th

The Use of Good Judgement

Completing the paperwork for insurance on his last client, Keith checked the time. He had about twenty minutes before his next appointment. Picking up his cup of coffee he considered the young couple who had just recently married and had purchased their first home. In his late thirties, Keith's life had recently gone through several changes also. He'd been dating Kelly for about two years. Then one day she told him she was pregnant. The logical thing to do was get married. Deciding on a small wedding, it was during the ceremony Keith started having serious second thoughts. Kelly had agreed for the sake of the baby they should get married, but there wasn't much of spark in her in the agreement to unite as a family. Then just last week things seemed to turn around, assuring him they'd made the right decision after all. Overnight Kelly seemed determined to make their union work. So much so, she'd slipped a one-dollar bill in his wallet that said, Smile; someone special loves you.

The movement at his open doorway brought Keith back to the here and now. Standing, he greeted Marsha and her son Terrance. The boy was sixteen and had just received his driver's license. Taking the time, Keith keyed in the information as he added the boy to his mother's policy. Marsha had been a client for many years and Keith knew she was a single mom, raising her only child on her own.

When everything was finished, Keith spoke directly to the new driver. "I asked your mother to bring you in for two reasons. One I wanted to say congratulation and two to have a little talk with you." Though the boy didn't move, Keith knew inwardly Terrance was rolling his eyes, as he prepared for the usual lecture. The boy was in for a surprise as Keith took his talk in a different direction. "I wanted to let you know that each time you get behind the wheel of your mother's car, you're taking her checkbook with you. You see if there is an accident, it's not just you that is involved, but your mother as well."

"Really," Terrance said, taking interest in what was being said. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Reaching for the stack of business cards sitting on his desk, Keith held one out. "This has my home phone number on it. If you ever get into a situation where it is unsafe to drive ... such as if you've been drinking ..."

"I'm only sixteen," Terrance complained. "I don't mess with that stuff," the boy said taking his responsibility seriously.

"Or," Keith continued, "you're with someone who has and you don't want to go with them, you give me a call. I'll come and get you and take you home, no questions asked. But once I get there, I'm only going to drop you off at your front door. The rest is up to you."

The conversation caught Marsha by surprise. "Have you ever had anyone call you?"

"Yes. Three times and I did just what I said." Holding out a hand to shakes the boy's, Keith added, "Be safe on the road."

When he arrived home that evening, Keith felt good about the day's work. So much so, he shared his conversation about Terrance with Kelly as the two prepared dinner together. What Keith didn't know was he was about to keep his promise for the fourth time. At one in the morning, his phone rang.

"Mr. Wilson. This is Judith Larson. Do you remember me?" The young woman voice sounded scared and a little slurred.

"Yes, Judith. I do remember you." Keith replied. "What can I do for you?"

"You gave me your business card once. I went to a party tonight with some friends. We've been drinking. My friends left me here. I didn't bring enough money for a cab. Would you come and get me and take me home?"

"Give me your address." Jotting it down, Keith said he'd be there in twenty minutes. Getting up, he started to dress and was surprised as his wife did the same. "It's not necessary for you to go."

"I might not be able to go with you in the future, but I can tonight. Let's not leave that trouble young lady out there any longer than necessary."

Glad for the company, within five minutes Keith was pulling out of the driveway. They had to travel on a busy street to get to Judith's location. As they drove, in the distance they saw lights flashing. Driving past, Keith heard his wife say it looked like two cars had collided and that an ambulance was on the scene.

Within no time, they were pulling onto the street. Keith drove slowly as they scanned for Judith. They found her standing under a tree in someone's front yard, shivering from fear, for the night wasn't that cold. It only less than thirty to reach where Judith lived with her parents. The eighteen-year-old sat in the car for several seconds. Getting out, Keith opened the car door and gently coax her out.

At her front door, Judith wiped at tears. "My folks are going to be so mad at me. I told them I was hanging with my friends. I didn't lie, but it was a last-minute decision to go to this Fourth of July party. I don't drink, but they kept on insisting on me joining them."

"Your parents might be mad at first," Keith interjected, "but they will be grateful you used good judgment, choosing to call someone, instead of driving with your drunk friends." He didn't tell her about the accident and prayed the other girls made it home safely. Then an idea struck.

Reaching into his pocket, Keith pulled out his wallet. From it, he extracted the one-dollar bill. Pressing it into Judith's hand, he said, "Read this once your inside." Stepping back, Keith waited until Judith entered her home.

Closing the door, Judith flipped on the nearest light. In her hand she read the words on the bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you.

At that moment, she heard her mother's voice. "Judith? Is that you?"

"Yes mom," she called out and prepared to face the music.

July 12th

Passing on a Life Lesson

The sun beamed into Judith's room as she stirred awake. Sitting up, the taste in her mouth made Judith even more queasy as her head continued to pound. Looking down, she realized she'd crawled into bed without changing into nightclothes and wadded up in her hand was a one-dollar bill. Taking a good look at it, she read the words; Smile: someone special loves you. Oddly at that particular moment, Judith wasn't so sure.

After showering and dressing in fresh clothes, she wandered downstairs. The youngest of three children, Judith's two older brothers had moved out, so she expected to be alone. Instead, she found her mother in the kitchen. "You're home?" she said in surprise.

"I took the day off," Lorrain replied. "You don't look so good. A hangover will do that. Sit down and I'll fix you some tea and toast."

Obliging, Judith gingerly sat, for her head felt like it might fall off her shoulder at any moment. When her mother slid the tea and toast in front of her, Judith cringed. "Eat a little, then take these," Lorrain added, setting two aspirin in front of her daughter. Doing as she was told again; Judith knew she owed her mother an explanation.

Giving her daughter a little more time, Lorrain finally asked the question to get the ball rolling. "I thought you were spending the night with Shelia and Renee."

"I was," Judith muttered. "Renee got a call from Bruce. His parents were out of town and he decided to bring the 4th in with a big bang. Only trouble was alcohol seemed to be the main course being served."

Hanging her head, Judith continued, telling her mother that she had started with a wine cooler, then had switched to punch. "I tasted pretty good, so I kept drinking. t was getting a really good buzz and lost track of time. All I remember is that it was really late when Shelia and Renee wanted to leave. By then they were pretty wasted. When I suggested we call someone to pick us up, they got pissy with me and split. "

"Why didn't you call me?" her mother asked.

Now tears welled up. "Because I didn't want you to be mad at me. I remember what Keith said when you signed me up on our insurance, so I called him. He came and got me."

Laying a hand over her daughter's, Lorrain spoke. "I am mad at you. But am so thankful you made the right decision not to go home with your friends."

Judith's cell phone rang at that moment. Looking down at the display, they saw Shelia's name appear. "I don't want to talk to her," Judith said, shoving her phone away.

Very much Lorrain wanted to pick up the phone and give the child a piece of her mind. Instead, she left the situation alone. A few seconds later the blip the phone let out signaled there a message in voice mail. Picking it up, Judith played the message.

"I'm so sorry," came Shelia's voice. "Please call me back. I'm in the hospital."

Instantly Judith was hitting the redial. "Hospital!" she nearly shouted the second she heard her friend's voice. "What happened. Where's Renee?"

"In the bed next to me. They put us in the same room. Can you come?" Shelia nearly sobbed.

Giving her mother a pleading look, Judith was answering yes when her mother nodded. After hanging up, Judith listened as her mother said, "But I'm driving you."

Within the hour the pair were entering the hospital. As they arrived at the girls' room, they found both Shelia and Renee's mothers were with them. Quickly Judith learned that Shelia had suffered a concussion and cuts from hitting the windshield, with Renee, who had been driving, ending up with a dislocated shoulder and a broken leg. Seeing they needed a break; Lorrain invited the other mothers to get something to drink in the cafeteria.

While they were gone, Judith asked what happened. After her friends had related what they remembered, Renee muttered, "You want to know what's really sucks; I didn't cause the accident. The driver who hit me from behind was drunk. Since he was traveling a lot faster than me, when his car rammed mine, I lost control of my Prius and plowed into the center divide. Because I had alcohol on my breath, I got ticked for drunk driving. And my mom said there's major damage to my car!"

"You were right," Shelia said humbly. "We should have called someone. The police cited me for underaged drinking."

Not saying anything, Judith was thankful her friends were just hurt and not dead.

By that evening Judith friends were home, but the incident had changed their lives. Their plans had been to start at the local junior college in August. Renee's injuries were severe enough she was going to need physical therapy. Shelia and Renee had to wait on pins and needles to see what was going to happen in the courts. As for Judith, she'd been grounded from using the family car for the rest of the summer. Giving the circumstance, she felt like she'd gotten off pretty light.

The next day she was surprised when a young man appeared on her doorstep. "My name is Xavier," he said offering a hand. "We have the same insurance agent. Keith. Can I come in?"

Since her folks were home, Judith felt safe. "He got permission for me to talk to you from your parents. I understand you had an incident that involved alcohol." The statement caused Judith to blush from embarrassment. "I'm not here to give you grief over that. What I'm here for is to ask you to speak at a meet and greet rally we're having at the college this Friday. I'm hoping your two friends who were involved will also come. Kids our age need to know what the dangers of drinking and driving really is. And what better way know the truth than to see and hear from people first hand."

"I ...," Judith stuttered. "I don't know."

"From what I understand you used your head. So many don't," Xavier reminded her. "I'm not trying to embarrass you, but teach a valuable lesson. Please think about it."

After he left, Judith talked with her parents, then to her friends. Agreeing, the three were picked up by Xavier the night of the gathering. Though it was hard, the retelling of the night brought on a bout of tears from all three girls.

As the rally began to wind down, several people came forward to tell the girls they were glad they were alive. Many shared stories where others hadn't been so lucky. In among the group was a fellow student named Libby. "That was very brave of you," she told all three.

"In a way it makes me feel even more stupid," Judith complained.

"Think of it this way. If one person remembered what the three of you just said, and calls for that ride, it's one life saved."

"She's right," Renee replied from her wheelchair.

"You three take care of yourself," Libby said. "If you need anything give me a call."

As she headed off, Judith thought of the dollar bill she'd stuffed in her back pocket for courage. "I'll be right back," she told Xavier. Moving through the crowd to catch up to Libby, Judith thought of how differently her classmate had grown up. Despite having two handicapped parents, Libby looked on life with a positive

Pausing, Libby waited. "I want you to have this," Judith said, passing the one-dollar bill to her classmate.

At first she started to refuse, then seeing what was written on it, Libby felt touched. Humbled, she accepted Judith's act of kindness.

July 16th

Pay It Forward

On her way home, Libby thought of the unique dollar bill she had received. The words Smile; someone special loves you were written across the front of it. Though the gesture was nice, it hadn't been necessary, for Libby already knew she was very much loved. Growing up had been different for her, since both her parents were mentally challenged. Despite their handicaps, she was very close to them.

At Libby's birth, social services had tried to take her away, saying her parents would be unable to tend to a child. Thankfully her grandparents had stepped in and had fought for the little family. To give support, both her grandparents had found a triplex to move into. Each day someone checked in to see if Gwen and Peter were taking care of their child. With only a little guidance, the pair proved to the courts that they were more than capable of caring for and meeting their daughter's needs.

Nothing last forever, and over time three of Libby's grandparents had passed away. Now with just her father's mother living next door, at eighteen, Libby's was taking on the responsibility of looking after all three of the adults in her life.

Arriving home, she first went next door to say goodnight to her grandmother Betty. They chatted a few minutes, with Libby promising to take her grocery shopping over the weekend. Opening her own front door, she called out, "I'm home."

"In the kitchen," her father called back. Sure enough, Libby found him at the kitchen table playing solitaire, a game he never tired of.

"Who's winning?" she asked.

"Sadly, Sol," Peter answered.

"You and mom eat dinner?" Libby asked. Cooking had never been one of her parents' stronger skills. Early on, Libby had been the one to organize that part of their lives.

"You worry too much. Yes, we did. Your mom baked the meatloaf just like you told her. It was very good. Did you have a good time with your friends?"

"We did. The meet and greet at the college was interesting. Speaking of mom, where is she?"

Picking up his cards, Peter shuffled, then began to deal out another hand. "Out in the garden."

"Dad," Libby scolded. "It's nearly ten. You both should be getting ready for work tomorrow."

Walking to the back door, Libby peered outside. There was her mom, happily picking tomatoes from two dozen thriving plants. A basket of tender zucchini had already been harvested. Each year they always planted way too much, but her mother so loved to share.

Both her parents were hard workers. As a custodian, all Peter ever needed was someone to tell him what to do and the job got done. Her mother was not as focused. Over the years she'd had several jobs. Cleaning tables in fast food restaurants or doing simple tasks in a factory. As of late, she'd been working at a place that folded boxes. Neither of her parents drove, but they were good at taking the bus. The people her parents worked for were kind and looked out for them. Sadly, other places in the world sometimes weren't as gracious.

Over the years there had been more than one ignorant person that had to be dealt with. Sometimes when they were out as a family, people would stare, or come up to them and asked personal questions. Both her grandmothers had been quick-witted and often dispatched these people without ruffling anyone's feathers. Learning from that, Libby too handled herself with the same graceful tack. The trouble was not everyone who crossed her path was so easily deterred.

Such was the case with the three girls standing in the check-out line. At the start of summer, Libby had landed a good job in one of the large department stores in the mall. The company had liked her so much, that she'd been promised flexible hours when school started in the fall. Unfortunately, on two other occasions during the last few weeks, Vanessa and two of her gang members from high school had been in the store. Each time they had taken the opportunity to harness Libby. Placing a profession smile on her face, she waited on the three when it was their turn.

"Howwww's yourrrr pppparents?" Vanessa stammered as the other two laughed uproariously.

"Fine, thank you. How can I help you today?"

"I want this stuff, dummy," Vanessa said, tossing her purchases up on the counter.

Politely Libby folded the clothes while separating the assorted jewelry. She knew Vanessa and her crew came from the richer side of town. Sadly because of their bad behavior all three had been expelled from both private high schools. What they enjoyed the most was bullying their fellow students.

"How come you never get upset?" one of the girls teased. Looking at her, Libby couldn't place the name. "Wouldn't you like to punch her out?" the other taunted. And as if to welcome the suggestion, Vanessa stuck out her chin.

Instead of responding, Libby began ringing up the sale. When she started to run the tag past the scanner, one of the girls yelled, "Hey," causing Libby to jump, thus scanning the same item twice.

"Did you see that?" Vanessa accused. "You're trying to rip me off."

Before Libby could defend herself, Ms. Marshall stepped forward. "I've got this Libby. Aren't you off in twenty minutes?

"Yes ma'ma."

"Then why don't you spend the time straightening the stacks in woman's wear."

Glad for the reprieve, Libby moved to a different part of the store. Furious, Vanessa launched a protest.

"Young lady," Ms. Marshall said sternly. "I've seen what you've been up to. I will not have you and your goon squad hassling my staff. I will ring up your purchase and I am going to ask you to leave the store and not return until you've learned some manners."

"I haven't shopped," one of the girls complained.

"Then maybe you should hang with better friends." Ms. Marshall retorted, then turning to Vanessa, gave her a total. Flushed with temper, Vanessa shoved her charge card into the terminal. The word DENIED flashed. "Please try again," Ms. Marshall said, keeping the smile she wanted to show from spreading across her face. Once more Vanessa shoved in the card, only to be shocked again when the word DENIED reappeared.

"Please use another card, or I'll have to void the purchase," Ms. Marshall informed her promptly.

"I don't have another card," Vanessa snapped back. She was about to give off another retort when a security guard appeared. "I'm NOT leaving this store until I'm good and ready".

The man booked no nonsense. "You either leave quietly, or the police will be called."

Embarrassed, the three girls gave no protest as they were escorted out of the building. Outside Vanessa friends were outraged. As they started to walk off, Vanessa tried to follow. Then was shocked when told to get lost. "You can't leave me, you drove Dory," Vanessa complained

"Watch me." And with their heads held high, the pair walked off.

Frustrated, Vanessa dug out her phone. She tried several of her so-called friends, only to find they were either busy or didn't answer. Getting desperate, she called her father.

"Vanessa, I'm in a meeting. What is it?"

"You cut off my credit card," the girl whined.

"And I told you if you didn't curtail your spending I would. I will discuss it with you when I get home."

"Dad I need a ride. I'm at the mall."

"Then I suggest you get walking. You have a long way to go." Then the phone went dead in her ear.

Shocked, she called her mother. "Vanessa dear. I don't have time to pick you up. I'm late for my spa appointment as is. Call your father. He'll sort it out." And once again a parent hung up on her. In a rage, she slammed the phone on the sidewalk before stomping on it. Snatching it up, Vanessa sat down and began to cry.

Off for the rest of the day, Libby headed for home. As she left the building, Libby heard someone crying. Spotting Vanessa weeping, she nearly headed the other way, but her conscience wouldn't let her.

Walking over Libby asked. "Are you okay?"

"What do you care?" Vanessa snarled. When Libby shrugged and started to walk off, Vanessa realized she might get a ride. "Wait," she pleaded desperately. "Can you take me home?

Libby motioned for her to follow. When they got to the car, Vanessa stared at a vehicle that was as old as they were. "In that?"

"Do you want a ride or not?" Libby asked with no heat. Having no choice, Vanessa got in. Before backing out of her parking spot, Libby stated. "Open your mouth to say something nasty and I'll kick you to the curb." Heeding the warning, Vanessa only said enough to give directions to her home.

When Libby pulled up to Vanessa's residents, she did have one thing to say. "Your friend asked me one question at the store I'd like to answer." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the one-dollar bill. "You want to know why your taunts have never bothered me." Turning to faced Vanessa, Libby continued. "Because I know who I am. And I'm loved by the two most remarkable people I've ever known."

Swallowing, Vanessa asked. "Why did you give me a ride just now?"

"Because you were in need and kindness begets kindness. You might want to try to learn that. And maybe remember when someone is kind to say thank you. Here," Libby said, "I think you need this more than I do." Then shoved the bill into Vanessa's hand.

Stunned, Vanessa got out of the car. As Libby pulled away, Vanessa walked up to the house looking at the bill. The words Smile; someone special loves you, seemed to laugh at her.

Stepping inside Vanessa noticed the day maid. It was the first time she realized she didn't even know the woman's name who was only a few years older than Vanessa. Still in a state of shock, Vanessa said, "Hello."

Turning the maid smiled. "Hello. Glad to see you're home Ms," the young woman said politely.

The next set of words surprised both of them. "Thank you," Vanessa said.

July 22nd

Choices

Life had taken a very hard turn for Vanessa over the last few days. Because of her recent behavior, she had managed to get herself and her two friends thrown out of a store at the mall. These two former classmates were not only snubbing her, but were talking about the incident to others as if they were the victims. It didn't matter they had acted just a badly. Adding insult to injury that day, they had abandoned her at the mall. The odd part was the clerk they had harassed, who was a girl their own age, had come to Vanessa's rescue. Not only had she given Vanessa a ride home that day, but had shoved a one-dollar bill with a message which said Smile; someone special loves you into her hand.

Lying on her back, Vanessa stared up at the ceiling. The statement on the bill left her wondering if she had ever truly been loved. Her father was always busy with his business conquests and never seemed to have time for her, while her mother was off trying to find herself. Even in private school, Vanessa had felt unimportant, so chose to get in trouble in order to stand out. It was enough to get kicked out and placed in the public-school system. There she'd clicked with a crowd that met her needs, even if it meant bullying other students as part of the pack's motto.

Since graduation, her father had been pushing on her to make life decisions. This last bout of recklessness had gotten the boom lower on her. Her ex-friends weren't the only ones angry about the mall incident. The reported misconduct had reached her father's ears. For punishment, he'd taken her credit card away, and like a little kid, had grounded her. Then to add to it, told her if she left the house, she should just keep on walking. As for her mother, she was too busy balancing her chi or chai to give a damn.

The sound of her notepad chirping caught Vanessa's attention. Rolling off the bed, she waited through the piles of bags and boxes from all her shopping sprees scattered on her bedroom floor. It took her several minutes to find the device.

P: Tried to call you. Why aren't you answering your phone?

V: Can't broken

P: Broken?

Looking at the damaged screen of her phone, Vanessa knew she could be honest with her aunt and not be reprimanded in a way that made her feel less.

V: Got mad. Smashed it.

P: Not smart.

V: Where are you?

P: Just got home. Will see you tomorrow. Love you kiddo.

That simple statement brought on tears. With the notepad at her side, Vanessa curled up and went to sleep. When morning rolled around, she felt someone poking at her. "Get up," said a familiar voice.

Rolling over, Vanessa saw her Aunt Peggy standing by her bed. "What time is it?" Vanessa grumbled.

"Time for you to get up," her aunt said. "We've got things to do. Breakfast is being fixed. Meet me downstairs." When Vanessa started to roll back over, Peggy leaned down. "If you don't, you're going to miss out on a chance of a lifetime." When her niece's eyes popped open, Peggy knew she had the girl's attention. Dropping a bag on the bed, she added. "Shower and get dressed in this." As she headed out, Peggy finished her instruction. "No make-up or jewelry."

Sitting up, Vanessa took out the contents of the bag. In it was a light brown camp shirt, jeans with no brand name tag and a pair of black tennis shoes.

Vanessa did shower, but dressed in skin-tight pants and a shirt of bold red. The clothes her aunt had given her were so ugly, she wouldn't be caught dead in them. As she entered the dining room, Vanessa heard her aunt talking with the cook. The two were enjoying the conversation until the cook spotted Vanessa. Very formally she announced, "I'll have your breakfast out in a few minutes."

At the table, Peggy sipped her coffee and shook her head.

"Why do you even talk to her?" Vanessa asked in a surly mood. "She's just a servant."

"Do you even know her name. Or the day maid?"

"Why should I?"

"Because they might be hired help, but they are people too." Sighing, Peggy continued. "Your cook's name is Beth. Ana is the day maid." To this Vanessa only shrugged.

"Tell me, which college are you planning to attend in the fall?" The question made Vanessa's shoulders sag.

When the cook came out, she set a plate of fresh fruit, scrambled eggs and lightly brown toast in front of both women, then left discreetly.

"I didn't take my SAT's," Vanessa replied when they were once more alone. "Just figure dad would get me in somewhere. Guessed wrong." Anger stirred. "He said it's junior college for me. Then added if I make it that far he'd be surprised."

"How would you like a better choice?" her aunt offered kindly.

"Like what?" Vanessa asked wearily poking at the food in front of her.

"Eat your breakfast, then change into what I gave you and I'll show you."

"Can't. If I leave the house ..."

"I talked with your father. He's given me permission to take you with me for the rest of the week."

Figuring she didn't have anything to lose, Vanessa for once did as she was told. After finishing the meal, she headed back upstairs. The cook stepped back out.

"Do you think she'll listen?" she asked.

"I sure hope so," Peggy replied.

Upstairs Vanessa changed. Staring in the mirror, she made a face. Then for some reason, snagged up the odd dollar bill which was on her nightstand. Shortly the two were stepping outside. If Vanessa thought the clothes were weird, the old van parked in the driveway was even odder. Like her own family, Vanessa knew her aunt had money, but was puzzled by the choice of vehicle.

As her aunt started to drive, she began. "I know what it's like to be pushed by one parent and ignored by another. When I graduated high school, I was so angry and confused. Then I had an aunt offer me a chance to do something with my life."

"Dad said you're always wasting your time helping people."

"Ian would see it that way. You hang with me for the next few days and let me show you a different world."

Since she didn't have a credit card, or friends to hang with, Vanessa thought, Why not.

What Vanessa wasn't prepared for was the world of the needy her aunt took her into. These places showed Vanessa things she never gave a second thought to. There was a center where disabled children learned something as simple as walking. Then in a shelter, saw her aunt comfort a mother with bruises on her face while holding a terrified child. The next day they ended up in a homeless shelter where staff worked to help displaced people find jobs or places to live, then to another center where young people came for guidance. In each place, her aunt lent a hand, said a kind word, or spoke to staff members to see what the center or organizations needed.

On the third day, Peggy was on the phone, making calls to elicit more help, or raise funds. That evening, her aunt laid a black formal floor-length dress on the bed Vanessa had been using. "We're going schmoozing."

"We're what?" Vanessa answered in surprised.

"Schmoozing."

"For?"

"Donations. You'll have fun."

Vanessa couldn't say if she had fun, but it sure was interesting to watch her aunt operate. With skill, Peggy got the others attending tonight's Gala to see the needy as living people. Over and over those who had were willing to provide for those who didn't. Before they had left her aunt had gone back to thank the staff who had catered the affair and her kindness was rewarded with some of the leftover food served that night When they got home, the two sat up eating some of the fruit, crackers, deli meat, cheeses and assorted petit fours as Peggy typed in pledges that had been offered.

"Why?" Vanessa asked. It was the question that Peggy had been waiting for. "Dad always said you cared more for the dregs of society than what is really important in the world."

Saving her work, Peggy picked up her plate. Selecting a grape, she thought of her answer while popping it into her mouth. "When I was your age I had no focus. My brother is just like our father. Making money, no matter who's toes you step on is the only thing important to him. What I think is funny is that he married a woman with the same traits as our mother. No wonder your mother and our mother get along so well. My aunt on my mother's side took me under her wing one day and showed me there's more to humanity than the all mighty dollar. Tell me, is all that stuff in your room making you happy?"

The question had Vanessa's shoulders slouching. "No."

"You need something to sink your teeth into. There's a lot of organizations who can use a helping hand."

"Me?" Vanessa said in shock.

"Yes. We can work together while you go to college to find the right niche to fit into. Think about it. I've got you for two more days. Then your father wants you back."

In the morning, Vanessa sat on her bed. She'd given a lot of thought to what her aunt had offered. She was so tired of being angry and sad. What if there was a better way? Her father was wrong, for Aunt Peggy wasn't wasting her life, but making a difference.

Downstairs she found her aunt drinking coffee. "I want to do what you do," Vanessa said, still uncertain about her decision. "It's going to take time for me to change, so I'm going to ask you to be patient with me. I still might act like a spoiled brat from time to time, but think of it this way. I'm a work in progress."

The smile on her aunt's face said that she'd already figured that out. "Then let's get our day started."

After visiting juvenile hall, it was while they were onto their next destination Vanessa decided to pass the dollar on, hoping it might change someone's else life as it had hers. Taking it out of her back pocket, she rolled down her window just enough to slip the bill out.

July 26th

Fancy Meeting You Again

It's not every day a one-dollar bill lands on your windshield, but for Officer Baker, he felt it was his civic duty to pull the diver over and see what was going on. As he exited his patrol car, he snagged the money before it could fly away. Examining it, he saw that someone had written the words, Smile; someone special loves you on it.

In the car, Peggy watched the officer approach and spotted something in his hand. "What's the problem," Peggy muttered while pulling out her driver's license. Then realizing he'd expect more, reached for her registration and proof of insurance.

"Ahh," her niece said beside her. "I let something fly out of the car."

"You what?" Peggy asked sharply.

"I let this special bill I had fly out the window. I thought the message on it might do someone some good," Vanessa added in a panic.

Sighing, Peggy rolled down her window. Without hesitation, she handed over the documents the officer would request. Glancing through, he handed them back. "Care to explain this?" Baker asked, waving the dollar bill.

"My niece was hoping to brighten someone's day," Peggy offered lamely.

"I'm not going to give you a ticket," he said to Peggy's passenger, "but next time drop your sunshine into a collection jar. In the meantime," he waved the bill, "I'll see this lands in one."

"Thank you, Officer Baker," Peggy replied gratefully while taking note of his name tag. As the officer walked back to his patrol car, Peggy glanced in her side mirror. "Nice buns," she whispered, then turned to her niece for an explanation.

Quickly Vanessa told the bill was given to her as a message for her to work on social skills. "I'm trying to follow the memo," she rushed on. "That's why I'm hanging with you for a few days."

"Then we better get to it," Peggy said.

Organizations didn't run on their own, and it was Peggy's job to see they got the needed funding. On Saturday she was talking to the staff who ran the different youth leagues sponsored by the police department. As she talked, Peggy noticed a familiar face jog across an open field with a soccer ball in his hand. Listening to the needs of the program from one of its volunteers, she watched the man give directions and line the kids up for some type of kickball game. The children responded well to his instruction.

Later, while bottles of water were being handed out, she walked over to the man. "You find a place for that dollar bill?" Peggy asked. Looking in her direction, Baker smiled. "So," Peggy continued, "tell me what the P on your name tag stands for."

"Paul. Funny seeing you here?"

"No. I coordinate funding for programs like these. What your reason?"

"I like kids. They said there was a needed for a coach and I happened to be free."

The couple chatted for a few minutes more, then for some reason, Paul handed her the dollar bill back. "Why don't you add this to your fundraising donations."

That should have been that, but not two days later Peggy ran into Paul with her shopping cart. "Sorry .." was all she got out. "You shop here?"

"Need groceries like everyone else."

She looked down at his cart, which was awfully full at the moment. "You plan on feeding an army?"

"Oh this," he responded casually. "Got a neighbor down the street. Her husband is sick and can't work. They got six kids and their money has to be really tight. Several of us are helping out in our own way. Mine's buying groceries."

The next day, Peggy noticed him in line at the local coffee shop. While she purchased a cup of coffee, Peggy leaned over the counter and whispered to the waitress. When it was Paul's turn, the clerk informed his coffee had been paid for. Placing his order, he scanned the room and spotted Peggy waiting for hers at the pickup station. Walking over, he joined her as the clerk handed Peggy her order.

"We keep meeting this way," Paul said casually. "This might be bold, but I don't see a ring on your finger."

"That's because I'm not married."

"Seeing anyone?"

"I'm seeing you," she replied, amused by their conversation.

"How about dinner tonight," Paul asked.
"I'd like that."

They went Italian. Over plates of manicotti and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, the couple discovered they had a lot in common, especially when it came to working for the welfare of the needy. As they finished their meal, they decided to take a walk in the downtown area. Peggy thought of the special dollar bill still in her wallet. Taking it out, she stopped at an outside table. "It was lucky for us," she explained. "I think it's time to pass the luck on." Setting the money on the table, Peggy took Paul's hand and together they continued their journey.

Now the bill sat silently waiting, but not for long. A gentle breeze blew it off the table, landing at the feet of a man passing by. "Look Daisy," he said. Picking up the money, Henry read aloud. "Smile; someone special loves you."

AUGUST

August 5th

You're Never Too Old to Start Again

Sometimes things in life line up for a reason, Henry considered. Finding a one-dollar bill with the words on it, Smile; someone special loves you, was a perfect example. He and his friend Daisy needed a change in life, but both weren't ready to take it, or so he thought.

Approaching retirement had its advantages and disadvantages. For Henry at the moment, the dis were in the lead. With his sixtieth birthday just around the corner, he was feeling his discontentment even more. The company he'd worked for since graduating college was changing with the advancement of technology. Though he'd been able to keep up, he found it more difficult as time went on.

His plans for this phase of life had been to travel, but not alone. Divorce had not been part of his future. Sadly though, people drift apart. When their youngest had left for college, his wife had hit him with a divorce, stating she had fallen in love with someone else. Oddly, Henry found it easy to let her go, even wished her well, so the split had been amicable. Since she'd pulled in the larger salary, in lieu of alimony, his ex had signed over the house to him.

Then a few years ago, he'd met Daisy. She had simply brightened his world. They enjoyed each others' company and shared the same dreams of travel. Unfortunately, Daisy still had many more years of work ahead of her.

Heading for home, he thought it a shame she wasn't closer. Like he'd done for over a month, Henry drove slowly by one of his neighbor's house. Parked on the side was a motor home with a FOR SALE resting in the front window. As he drove on, dreams once more played in his head.

When Henry had first noticed the sign, he had gone down to talk to the owner. Will and Marta had traveled the United States for over twenty years. In their eighties now, it was time to stay put. But what an adventure the two had had. Hoping for a buyer, Will had invited Henry to take it on a test drive. Behind the wheel, the vehicle handled like a dream. It was large enough to sleep four. Will had made some nice improvements, making the bathroom and kitchen fully functional. To sweeten the prospect, he'd even let Henry take it to a repair shop. There the vehicle passed with flying colors.

Stepping into his house, Henry felt how lonely the place was. Both of his children were close by and he was always welcome to visit them, but they had their own lives. Their children kept his son and daughter very busy with sporting events and other social activities. Though Henry enjoyed spending time with them, he often felt like a fifth wheel.

As he set his briefcase down and dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door, he considered the conversation he'd had yet again with his boss. Steve talked to him about moving on and letting the younger sect have a chance for advancement. "We can have your papers drawn up in a day," his supervisor had said on more than one occasion. But what would he do? Start gardening, hang out a Mr. Fix-it sign, or walk down to the park to feed the birds? None of that appealed to him.

The prospects of a lone dinner had no appeal either. He thought of Daisy. As if the fates had read his mind, his phone began to ring. Glancing at it, he saw Daisy's name displayed.

"Henry," she said when he'd answered. Immediately he could hear it in her voice, she was upset. "Can you come over. I have some dreadful news."

Not bothering to change, Henry headed over to Daisy's small apartment. Like him, Daisy too had been divorced for many years. After the birth of her third son, her husband had declared he no longer wanted to be married. What made things worse, was he turned out to be a dead-beat dad. The raising and providing for her sons had landed solely on Daisy's shoulders. In the end, all three boys were fine upstanding young men, despite the example set forth by their father.

Once inside, Henry realized how frugally Daisy lived. The place was comfortable, but sparsely furnished. All she had earned had gone to the care of her children at first. Now, from what he'd been told, the money now went directly into savings.

"What's wrong?" Henry asked.

"I got laid off today," she said in tears.

"Laid off? Why?"

"The company is restructuring. Simply put, they have phased out my position. I've seen them do that over the years. They let people like me go in order to be able to hire younger people so the company can pay them a lower salary. Damnit Henry, I'm 57. No one is going to hire me at my age and I'm too young for social security. I can use my savings to live on for a time, only that's not going to last long. I can take my 401K from the company with me, but if I touch that now, I'll be penalized for withdrawing the funds early. What am I to do?"

The idea of traveling kicked in so sweetly that Henry actually smiled. The reaction had Daisy frowning. "This is serious," she snapped.

"I know," he replied, but the idea of an adventure started taking shape. He could actually see the two of them on the road. "Don't worry about working," he stated without thinking.

"Have you lost your mind?" Daisy demanded.

"No, I found it," he said. "We've been seeing each other for five years. What is the one thing we are always talking about?"

"Travel," Daisy responded automatically.

"Right." Letting his mind work, Henry started putting a plan together. "You remember that motor home I told you about down the street from me. It's still for sale. If we bought it, we could see a lot of the sights we've taken the time to look up. Think about it. If you didn't have to pay rent or utilities, how sweet would that be? Neither one of us is a collector, so we wouldn't be buying a lot of useless stuff.

"Get practical, " Daisy shot back, "Motor homes take gas and rental spaces. Plus, there's insurance and maintenance. Then what happens when we're both too old to travel?"

"I paid my house off last year. We'll rent it out, more income. When it's time, we come back and settle in."

"And what will people think. Two old folks living together?"

"I love your sensibilities. Marry me then."

"Henry!"

"We don't have to share a bed. If you prefer, you can take the room in the back and I'll sleep upfront. I've looked into the medical coverage from my company on more than one occasion. I can carry a spouse until we are old enough to go on medical care. That way you'll have coverage."

"And what happens if we don't get along? Close quarters like that can put a lot of stress on a relationship."

"It can, but what if it does work out. What do you say Daisy girl? You in for an adventure of a lifetime.

"I'll have no income." But from the tone of her voice, she was considering.

Looking around the room, Henry spotted her sewing machine. "I tinker. Over the years, I've learned to fix damn near everything. You sew. Do you know how many people can't even sew on a button or hem a pair of pants?"

"So, we become traveling tinkers," she said with a giggle.

"Yeah. Look, let me talk to Will. See if he'll let us take the motor home for a weekend. If we enjoy it, then let's plan the next phase of our life."

What had started out to be a horrible day, was turning into something beautiful. "Yes!" Daisy agreed with enthusiasm.

By the weekend, the motor home had been stocked with what was needed and the couple made plans to spend four days at a nearby campground. The owner had a car that could be towed from the back. So Will and his wife would have transpiration, Henry left them his car.

"You folks drive save," Will said.

"We will," Henry said rubbing his hands together. "And one more thing," he added with a laugh. Digging out the one-dollar bill, he slipped it into Will's hand. "Thanks for the test run."

Standing on the sidewalk, Will watched Henry and Daisy pulled away. It reminded him the day he and his Marta had done the same thing. Looking at the money in his hand, he saw the words, Smile: someone special loves you. Glancing at the house, Will sighed. Someone did love him, when she remembered.

August 16th

Bitter/Sweet Memoires

Standing on the sidewalk, Will watched his beloved motor home drive off for the last time. The couple who had just purchased it were the same age he and his Marta had been when they had taken off for an adventure of a lifetime. Earlier when the couple had taken if for a test drive, Henry had given Will a dollar bill that said; Smile, someone special loves you.

Turning, Will started for the house. Yes, someone special did love him, when she remembered. At eighty-five, the decision to return home and stay put hadn't been a choice, but a necessity.

After retiring, the couple had purchased a motor home and took off to see as much of the United States as possible. During their travels, Will and Marta had seen many wonders. They had visited the Grand Canyon and the Statue of Liberty. They had also found a mountain of white sand in the middle of a desert and visited the world's largest baseball bat. They sometimes traveled with friends, other times they took off on their own. When some of the grandchildren were old enough, they joined the couple for part of their summer travels.

The change had started out slowly at first. Marta would get dates mixed up, then forget where they were. Gradually things worsened. Twice she put something on the stove only to forget it. Both times Will had caught it before a fire started. The final scare came when he'd woken one morning to find Marta gone. They were camped at Twin Pines in Wyoming, and the day before had gone hiking. Getting up, Will frantically searched for his wife. The authorities had been called and after a terrifying twenty-four hours, Marta had been found. Severally dehydrated, scratched up and with many bug bites, she was alive and safe.

Stepping inside his house, Will spotted his wife sitting on the couch, looking at the albums of their travels. Until the end, Marta had recorded their journey. Now her mind remembered none of it.

"You should knock before you enter someone's home," she admonished her husband.

Their daughter Tessa stepped in. "That's dad," she reminded her mother gently.

"My father?" Marta asked in confusion.

"No, my dad," Tessa corrected. "Your husband."

Giggling, Marta said. "I'm not married."

Sighing, Will went into the kitchen. When Marta had been first diagnosed with Alzheimer's it had hit the family hard. The doctors had strongly suggested they find a convalescent home or care facility. But the family had rallied around the elderly couple.

Knowing a day would come when they could no longer travel as they pleased, the couple had been smart to hold onto their home, renting it out as another source of income. Thankfully when they needed, Will and Marta had a place to come back to.

Sitting at the table, Will stared off into space.

"Dad," Tessa said softly while stepping into the room. "You all right?"

Pulling out his handkerchief, he whipped at his moist eyes. "Fine," he replied gruffly. When his daughter joined him at the table, Will spoke from the heart. "I'm having second thoughts about this weekend."

"Dad," Tessa said laying a hand on his. "Mom will be fine for the day. We as a family need to honor the two of you. It's not every day a couple reaches their 60th wedding anniversary."

"Your mom and I were high school sweethearts. Everyone said it wouldn't last. We worked hard to help each other through college. You kids were a blessing to us along the way. We made it work, in good times and bad."

"And we'll continue to make it work. The party is for us as much as for the two of you."

"Hello," Marta called from the living room. "Is anyone there?"

"I'm going to see what mom wants and head out. Connie will be here in an hour." She watched her father open his mouth in protest. "It's settled. We all will take turns helping you out with mom." Patting his hand, Tessa went to see what her mother wanted.

The night before their party, Will knelt on the floor of his room. Because sometime Marta woke up scared he was in the same bed with her, they had been sleeping in separate rooms the last few weeks.

With his hands clasped, Will began. "Lord, I know that Marta and I didn't get to church as often as we should have. But we started each day with you in prayer. The doctor said that sometimes she could have a clear day. I'm asking you for that tomorrow." Crawling into bed, he turned off the light, leaving the next day in God's hands.

In the morning, he heard Marta calling for him. "Will?" she began. "Why are you sleeping in here?"

Sitting up, Will couldn't believe his eyes. There stood his wife in the doorway of his room, her mind whole.

"You remember me?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she said slightly irritated by the question.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Our anniversary. And the family has a party planned for us. So let's celebrate."

Giving thanks and praise as they had for years, the couple got ready for the day. For as long as it lasted, he'd enjoy being with his wife. At two in the afternoon, all gathered at the church. As they had done sixty years ago, Will and Marta recited their vows. When they arrived at the rented hall, family and friends ate, drank and reminisced. Stories were told that had people in stitches or tears. Several of them were in awe that Marta was her old self, while others considered it a blessing from God.

That night when they were ready for sleep, Marta insisted she slept in her husband's bed. Like old times they kissed goodnight. In the morning it was a different story. The scream woke him out of a sound sleep.

Will was stumbling out of bed when his niece rushed in. Thankfully he'd thought to sleep in his boxers. Still, the whole scene was embarrassing. As his wife continued to cry hysterically about the stranger in her bed, he grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt, before fleeing the room.

Later that day he found Marta sitting in her usual place on the couch looking at the photo albums. With the morning's chaos forgotten, she happily thumbed through the photo albums that chronicled their journey across the United States and parts of Canada. It had been Marita who had been taken most of the pictures and put the albums together. Like before, she remembered none of it. Looking up at him with a childlike puzzled expression, she stated, "You shouldn't enter a house that's not yours."

Taking the seat next to her, Will replied. "I'm a special friend. Turning a page, he pointed to a picture of the two of them."

"You are!" Marta said with such delight. Unfortunately she didn't recognize the woman standing next to him as herself. So Will decided he'd remember for both of them.

In the late afternoon he decided to take a walk. As he traveled, Will considered. Some might think he should be bitter about Marta's condition, but Will had accepted it as the price of growing old. Instead, he thanked God for allowing his wife to be well enough to enjoy their anniversary.

The day had been hot and was only just starting to cool down. On the next street over he found a girl selling Homemade Lemonade. He glanced at her prices. "I'll take a large." Reaching into his wallet, Will picked a one-dollar bill at random, not realizing it was the special one. When he handed it to Sarah, she dropped it into her jar under the table. Taking a sip of the sweet-tart drink, Will gave her a nod of thanks before moseying on.

August 23rd

Sisterhood

Sitting on her bed, Sarah began to count the days take from her lemonade stand. In among the money was a one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you. The message tickled her so much, Sarah set it aside.

In her house, there was a ton of love, even if at times there wasn't much else. She was the middle child of five girls. Over the years Sarah had worn many hand-me-downs from her older sisters. Both Maureen and Ashley took good care of their clothes, so they were okay to wear. But Sarah liked to have a few new things.

To earn extra money over the summer, Sarah had walked dogs, done yard work, and had helped some of the neighbors with cleanup projects. She'd even helped the family do a yard sale to get rid of a lot of extra junk. Her latest endeavor was to sell homemade lemonade to hot customers.

Her parents had been nice to let her have all the water and ice needed. They had a lemon tree in the backyard. When the fruit was ripe, her mother squeezed it and froze the juice into ice cube trays. To support her endeavor, Sarah's parents had allowed her access to the frozen juice. The only thing that Sarah had to provide was sugar and cups.

"So how was today?" her father asked from the doorway of the room she shared with the two youngest children in the family.

"Made $22.50," Sarah replied proudly.

"And what was your profit?"

"A little over $15. But when I do it again, it will be all profit because I have leftover sugar and cups."

"So, how about a loan?" her father teased.

"I can do that." Tilting her head, Sarah calculated. "At three percent interest."

With a big belly laugh, her father complained about highway robbery. "Night girls," he called out as Paula and Ariel were settling on their beds.

"Night dad," all three girls chorused.

The following day Sarah heard Maureen and Ashely talk about going to the mall. The two older girls were getting ready to start back to school and wanted to do some shopping. Maureen had a job at the local Target store. Being a senior, she was the only one who had a license. Their parents had gotten her a used car, with the understanding, she was to help with some of the carpooling. This year she would be taking Ashely to high school with her, dropping Sarah off at middle-high first each day. As for Ashely, she was the neighborhood babysitter. She'd made quite a rep for herself and was constantly being called.

When Sarah asked to go along, both girls said yes. Making a day of it, they had lunch, then looked for as many bargains as they could find. As the three walked thought one department store, Sarah saw kids' clothing on sale. She knew that Paula and Ariel would be wearing some of her own hand-me-downs. The younger two of the family weren't old enough to get jobs. Thinking of her money, Sarah decided she could afford a new top for each of her younger sibs.

"What are you doing?" Ashley asked when she saw Sarah lift up a shirt that was definitely too small for her.

"What size do you think Paula and Ariel are?"

"Not sure," Maureen replied. "I'll call mom."

Soon they had an answer. Liking Sarah's idea, each girl picked out a shirt for the younger two. At the cash register, they paid for their induvial purchases. When it was Sarah's turn, she apologized for all the ones and rolled quarters.

"You've been busy," the clerk exclaimed, for she knew how hard Sarah worked. "Did you want to let this bill go?" she asked holding up the special dollar.

"Yeah," Sarah said, beaming at her two older sisters. "I already know who loves me."

As the three walked away, the clerk smiled. She loved when she saw families that enjoyed each other. Setting the bill aside, she waited to pass it on to someone who could use the message. The clerk didn't have long to wait. The stern argument of another set of sisters made her frown. The pair were close enough in age, they could have passed for twins.

"I snagged it up first," Linda stated.

"You could least let me borrow it," Laurie whined

"Not in this lifetime or any other" Linda snapped back.

"Are you ready?" the clerk asked primly.

Setting a blouse on the counter, Linda opened the tiny excuse of a purse. "Damnit, I left my card at home," she complained. "Let me use yours?"

"No," Laurie snipped back.

"You're a bitch," Linda retorted.

"I'm a bitch. Who's not going to let me borrow the blouse."

"Never mind. I've got enough cash."

When Linda was handed her change, she raised an eyebrow at the strange one-dollar bill

"Problem," the clerk asked at the young woman's expression.

"Money's money," Linda said shoving it back into her purse.

As they walked out of the store, the argument continued over the blouse, becoming more and more heated, with more colorful words being added in.

Maybe one day they might consider what really is important, the clerk thought as she waited on the next customer.

August 29th

Leaning What Is Really Important

Two sisters were walking out of the mall, engaged in a very heated argument over a blouse one of them had just purchased. They had been fighting so much all day that their mother had kicked them out of the house. Arriving at their car, Laurie slid into the driver's seat. When Linda was settled in the passenger's side, she saw money sticking out of her tiny purse. Opening it up, she took out the odd dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you.

As Laurie started the car, Linda stuff the money away. The girls were only eleven months apart. They both would be starting their junior year of high school on Monday. They normally got along well, but the split between their parents at the start of the year had been hard on both of them. Instead of uniting, they had been bickering more and more as of late.

"You know," Laurie said as she drove toward home. "If we don't quit fighting, mom's going to ship one of us over to live with dad and his new honey."

"As if," Linda snorted. "And I can tell you it's not going to be me."

"And you think I'm going to go?" Laurie retorted. "And that blouse you snagged up should have been mine."

"Then the next time don't point out something you want," Linda said, taking it out of the bag. With flair, she laid the dark blue shimmery blouse over herself. "I think it's going to look great on me," she added, teasing her sister on purpose. "Might even wear it on the first day back to school." Turning, she saw the semi-truck barreling down on them. The last thing Linda remember was screaming her sister's name before the world when dark.

When Linda awoke, she hurt everywhere. The hand that touched her was so familiar. "Mom," she said weakly. Then the accident kicked in. "Laurie?" she asked.

It was the one question her mother hoped she'd wouldn't have to answer right away, for she was still processing it. "Your ..." her mother began. "Laurie didn't make it."

Shock hit first. "No," Linda began to sob. "No, NO, NO!!!!!"

The truck driver hadn't been paying attention and drifted over into their lane. Clipping the girls' car had sent it spinning out of control. The pickup behind them had slammed into the driver's side, killing Laurie upon impact. There had only been minimal damage to the passage side, and after two days in the hospital, Linda was released. When she arrived home, the blouse sat on the bed. Oddly the garment had survived the accident with only a small tear in the sleeve. Tossing it aside, Linda laid on the bed and sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I should have let you have the stupid blouse."

Still a basket case on Thursday, Linda wandered into her sister's room. Laurie had loved the big bed, heaped with stuffed animals and oversized pillows. Crawling onto it, Linda hugged an old raggedy bear. After yet another long crying jag, she fell asleep.

The old familiar punch in the arm woke her. Sitting up, Linda found herself staring into Laurie's face. Shocked at seeing her sister there, Linda cried out, "You're dead."

"Duh. Tell me something I don't know." Laurie replied. "Why are you in my room?

The apparition sounded like the Laurie Linda knew. "Because I miss you, jerk." None of this felt real. Unable to help it, Linda said what was heaviest on her mind. "I should have let you buy that stupid blouse."

"Yeah, you should have," Laurie laughed. "It would have looked better on me."

"If I had, the accident wouldn't have happened," Linda sobbed out.

Despite their recent fighting, Laurie pulled her sister close. "It wouldn't have mattered. It was my time to go. But you need to live."

"How?" Linda cried out. "Mom's blaming herself for kicking us out of the house that day. And it's not helping dad's accusing her of being a rotten parent."

Pushing her sister back so they were face to face, Laurie spoke. "They're not going to change, so you have to. Will you do a few things for me?"

"Name it."

"Frist, help mom get rid of my stuff when she's ready. Second, for my wake, I want a big ass party. Celebrate my life. And last, when you have your first daughter, name her after me."

"You don't want much do you?" Linda complained.

"Life is worth living, sis. So live!"

Throwing her arms around her sister, Linda held on for dear life as Laurie began to fade. As she did, Linda heard, "And get out of my room!"

Suddenly Linda blinked. She was sitting on Laure's bed. Had she just dreamt seeing her sister? But the scent of Laurie's favorite perfume hung in the air. Oddly she felt a huge sense of relief. Getting up, she started to leave, then reaching over snagged the bear. "I'm taking this," she called out and went to bed in her own room.

In the morning, Linda found their mother sitting at the kitchen table with the same pained look on her face she'd worn for days.

With the dream or whatever had happened last night on her mind, Linda went to the refrigerator for orange juice. Without thinking, she asked, "How soon can we pick Laurie up?"

Shocked, her mother cried out, "Linda!"

Realizing her mistake, Linda rephrased the question. "When can we pick up Laurie's ashes?

"The mortuary said they'd call. Why?"

"Cause I want to plan a wake for her. One that rocks, where we can celebrate her life." Linda had no intention of telling her mother of the visit. Part of her still didn't believe it herself. "And I plan to start back to school on Monday."

"You can't," her mother cried in a panic. "The doctor said to wait until you are ready."

"Mom," Linda said, laying a hand on her mother's. "I am. It's not going to be easy, and the longer I put it off, the harder it's going to be."

"What happened to you? You were just as much a wreck as I am yesterday?"

"I still am. Just today I'm stronger."

Later Linda sat with two of their best friends. Doing as Linda had requested, they had found out her class schedule and had gathered most of Linda's missing homework assignments.

"You've got some pretty cool teachers. Only one was a jerk. The others are giving you a pass for the week, given what ..." Cheryl trailed off before she completely put her foot in her mouth.

"It's cool," Linda said.

"So how are you doing?" Margaret asked.

"Some days it feels so unreal. It's like if I open her bedroom door, Laurie going to be sitting on her bed, annoyed that I'm bugging her. I can't believe she's gone. I'm still numb. There's going to be a lot of bad days ahead, but I know it will be better in time."

"You said you want us to help plan a Life Celebration."

"Yes I do," Linda said as a tear streaked down her face. "Then I want to start a scholarship in Laurie's name. And I want to add the first dollar to the Laurie Memorial Scholarship." Then to make her point, laid the odd dollar bill out of the table.

"Smile; someone special loves you," Margaret read out loud.

"That so cool," Cheryl replied. "Can I trade you? I've got an aunt that loves stuff like that."

"Sure," Linda replied. "Love needs to be passed on anyway." Then found herself smiling through the tears.

Note: If you've lost a loved one, know there are organizations out there to help you through your grief. Programs like The Compassionate Friends and Grief Share are just a few. Churches and synagogues often have such programs available. Reaching out to them is the best way to start the healing process.

SEPTEMBER

September 4th

In Remembrance

Losing a friend was tough, but Cheryl found planning her memorial even harder. It brought up all kinds of memories. Cheryl had known Laurie since sixth grade. It just didn't seem fair that someone at the age of seventeen had to die. As she sat on the city bus heading for home from school, Cheryl felt the need for a pick-me-up and knew exactly where to get it. Besides she had a special one-dollar bill to deliver that said, Smile; someone special loves you.

As usual, September was hot. So by the time Cheryl had walked the two blocks to her aunt's house she was not only sweaty, but thirsty. As she unlocked the door, Cheryl knew there'd be cold drinks and something to eat inside. Calling out, she didn't hear any response. That meant only one thing. Myrtle had to be out back in her greenhouse.

Only the people Aunt Myrtle trusted had a key to her house. Cheryl was pleased she was one of them. Myrtle was the oldest living member of a very large family, who at 94 was still independent. If you asked Myrtle, she'd tell you she'd plain to be dancing the jig at her 100th birthday.

After setting her backpack on the table, Cheryl opened the refrigerator. Inside she found it stocked with soft drinks, flavored water, and boxed juices. Selecting a soda, she next went to Myrtle's ancient cow shaped cookie jar. Lifting the lid, she was greeted with the scent of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies. In response, Cheryl sighed with pure delight.

Knowing her mother would worry, Cheryl called and made arrangements to be picked up after she got off work.

Satisfied, Cheryl walked out back to find her aunt. As she opened the greenhouse door, Cheryl spotted Myrtle working on transplanting several plants into new containers. Myrtle loved to give what she called her babies away.

Petite is size, Myrtle only weighed 100 pounds dripping wet. Though she'd never married, she was in Cheryl's opinion the most contented person she'd ever known.

"Hey, Aunt Myrtle."

Looking up through thick lenses, pale blue eyes sparkled with warmth. "Hi yourself. See you found goodies."

"Cookies are great. There's something different about them though."

"Glad you noticed. I used dried cranberries instead of raisins." Taking off her glovers, Myrtle came over to join her great-great niece. "You seem sad," she observed.

"I am. I lost a friend last week," Cheryl explained.

"The girl that died. I read about it in the paper. Was wondering if you knew her."

"I did. Now I'm on the committee that's planning her memorial. It's so hard."

"What you need is a plant. Something living to remember your friend by. Pick one. You can then decorate a pot."

The idea was comforting. "Do you do that often?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes I do."

Now Cheryl chuckled. "What if the person has a black thumb."

"Then I take care of the plant for them."

Wandering through, Cheryl picked an African Violet in full bloom. Sitting at a table, she worked with permanent markers to make the simple clay pot pretty. Afterwards with her aunt's help, transferred the plant to its new home. As she worked, an idea began to form in Cheryl's mind.

When her mother showed up to take her home, Cheryl spoke of what she'd been thinking. Quickly she explained to her mother what Myrtle had her do. "I want to suggest we do the same thing at Laurie's wake."

"Cheryl," her mother said a bit exasperated at the idea. "You realize the logistics of doing such a project. There's going to be hundreds of students there. Getting the plants and the supplies to the gym is going to be a nightmare. Then you add the mess it will make. And last, who's going to pay for it?"

Deflated, Cheryl said nothing, but then smiled when Myrtle jumped in. "I will." Then brushed off the protest from Cheryl's mother. "The nursery gives me a discount because of how much I buy there. I bet if I asked the owner, he'd give me a bigger one and maybe even chip in on the project. All we'll need is some table and a few extra hands. I know how fussy the school will be about the gym floor, so we'll put protective drapes on the floor. Or better yet, if the weather's still nice do it outside.

There was no talking to Myrtle once an idea got into her head. The following day with Cheryl's help, the pair worked on the planning of Planting A Remembrance for Laurie. As Cheryl sipped another soda, she dug into her pocket. "I want you to have this," she said to Myrtle.

Taking the money from her great-great niece, Myrtle chuckled at what was written. "This is a good message to pass on."

September 12th

Doing Things My Way

Being 94 was a blessing as far as Myrtle was concerned. The dollar bill one of her great-great nieces had given her was proof of that. Though she'd never married, as far as she was concerned, Myrtle led a good life. The last surviving member of six siblings, Myrtle's five sisters had given her a boatload of nieces and nephews which had produced scads of greats and great-greats.

Yet sometimes family loved you to death. Over and over she was being told what she could and could not do. The recent had been driving. She'd never had an accident or a speeding ticket in her life, even passed her last driving test with flying colors, but the family had nagged her so much, Myrle stopped. To get where she wanted to go these days, she'd learned to make use of other types of transportation services. Since she loved to chat, Myrtle found many of the drivers interesting.

Driving was just the tip of the ice burg. A few years ago, the family had decided that she needed to give up her home and move to a senior assisted living facility. "Why!" was Myrtle only comment. When she refused to leave her home, they next tried to talk her into have a live-in person. Determined to remain independent, Myrtle told her family when she became a doddering old fool, she'd consider it.

Now Myrtle wasn't an idle person. Three days a week she attended a yoga class at the senior center designed for the older crowd. Her belief was by staying limber, you'd stayed young. The other thing she did was host a gathering for older people twice a month. Both men and women were welcome. The only requirement was you had to be a senior citizen.

Setting up refreshments, she arranged tables in groups of four. Often Myrtle had as many as twenty people come. There were only two rules. You had to sit with someone you didn't know and no talking about your aches, pains, and medical issues. Printing out interesting topics, she left them scattered on the table to aid in finding a subject to chat about. Heck, Myrtle even encouraged the talking about politics and/or religion. Over the years at least seven couples had come from these meetings. Happily, Myrtle had hosted two of the weddings.

One of the things people loved was the interesting little door prizes Myrtle would give away. Everyone knew she rigged it so that certain people got them. Today Myrtle planned to see that someone who needed it, got the special dollar bill.

When things began to wind down, Myrtle made a big production of having people look under their place mates for a number. Then reaching into a jar, pulled out its match. Today she had a necktie for Carl who was getting married in two weeks. An unusual seashell for BethAnn who collected them and the one-dollar bill that went to Gretchen. By the expression on Gretchen's face, it was obvious she was none to please about the gift. Waiting until everyone had left, she was determined to let Myrtle know she did not appreciate the old woman's meddling ways. "Take this back," she demanded when they were alone.

"No," Myrtle said as she began gathering dishes. She liked having the real stuff when hosting her parties. "You won it."

"I did not. You fixed it so I would."

"Don't stand there," Myrtle said in her easy way. "Help me clean up. If my family shows up and sees this mess, they will start nagging me brainless to cancel my get-togethers. While you help me, you can tell me why you don't want the bill."

With nothing better to do, Gretchen began gathering glasses and flatware. "I know what you meant by this."

"You do?" Gretchen heard Myrtle say with amusement. "Tell me what I meant," she replied as they walked into the kitchen.

"That there are people out there that care about me."

"They don't?" Myrtle asked in mock surprise as she rinsed, then handed Gretchen the items to put in the dishwasher.

"They do. My husband ..." Gretchen started, then fell silent for a moment. "he cares. And so do my girls."

"Then who doesn't."

Anger flashed in the woman's eyes as she followed her host out of the kitchen for more dishes."

"The school district because I don't meet their standards. The solution was to strongly suggest I retired. Teaching was my life. My passion. There's nothing wrong with reading the classics."

"Unless the students you're teaching aren't interested in them. I know what you're feeling." Myrtle said as she continued to pick up discarded pieces of paper and, crumpled napkins. With another stack of dishes, she returned to the kitchen with Gretchen in her wake.

This time it was Gretchen who rinsed, while Myrtle placed them in the dishwasher. "I taught biology at the college level for years," Myrtle explained. "Then one day I realized I wasn't given my students my best. I was having a hard time keeping up with the changes going on in my chosen field."

"So, they retired you?"

"No, I chose to retire myself."

"You seem so content," Gretchen observed

"I wasn't at first. It took time." Then she let out a huff of breath. "My family means well. They came up with all kinds of things for me to do. They even planned this big trip for me to see Europe. Not wanting to go alone, I convinced the family to send some of the teenagers along to keep me company. I ended up taking nine of them. We had so much fun. But while I was gone, I kept counting down the days until our return and realized traveling wasn't for me.

"I'm going to give you what most people hate. And that is some advice. Don't look at what happened as a door closing, but seek the window that has opened."

At those words, the front door opened and a few of Myrtle's family walked in. "This poor broken-down old lady can't clean her house," she said with a wink to Gretchen.

Standing back, Gretchen listened to the conversation. As the younger generation fussed at Myrtle, she seemed to listen with a deaf ear. Instead of fighting with them, Myrtle served up the remaining cookies.

Later as Gretchen drove home, she considered. Most of her life she was a firm believer things happened for a reason. Maybe it was time to find out what that reason was. And when she did, she'd pass on the special bill now residing in her wallet.

September 16th

If a Door Closes, Look for an Open Window

Though her routine had greatly changed, Gretchen fought to keep somethings the same. For over forty years, she started her morning with a cup of coffee and a few quiet moments with her husband. Steven had retired three years ago and was enjoying this change in his life. As for Gretchen, she felt like a leaf in the wind.

Strangely the only blessing she'd found lately was from an odd friend of hers who enjoyed hosting gatherings for people in their sixties and older. Attending one of these events, Gretchen had received a gift of a one-dollar bill that said; Smile; someone special loves you. That was true, for her husband had been patient with her since the district had decided retirement would be best for both parties. Stewing over what had happened, Gretchen watched as Steven read the morning paper.

For the better part of twenty years, Gretchen had taught twelfth grade English. Part of the curriculum included the classics. Sadly last year's graduating class wasn't interested. When she had handed out copies of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, her first-period class had thought it funny to toss the books out the window. What they had done had spread to her third-period, which netted a repeat performance. By the end of the day, all five of Gretchen's classes had done the same thing. Losing her patience, she had yelled at her last class.

Instead of reprimanding the students for their behavior, the school had asked Gretchen to take a week's leave of absence. Then to add insult to injury, when she returned, a fellow teacher had been assigned to help her teach her classes. The last straw came just before Spring Break when the principal called her to his office. The school board had strongly suggested retiring during this time period. Since then, Gretchen had been a ship lost at sea.

"Look at this," Steven stated, laying down part of the paper. There was an ad for retired teachers to volunteer tutoring time through Adult Education. Deciding it had some merit, Gretchen took the article and dressed for the day.

By ten she was down at the same district office that had let her go. Finding the right office, Gretchen went in. Laying the ad on the counter she inquired about the requirements that would be expected of her.

The woman was hesitant, for she'd heard rumors of Gretchen's dismissal. Still, she agreed to let Gretchen fill out an application. Walking her to the back part of the office, she showed Gretchen a computer. Bringing up the form, she left the older woman to fill it out.

The trouble was that like her classics, Gretchen was stuck in the past, which had been another bone of contention with the district. Both her daughters had tried to show her how to work computers, but Gretchen had been hopeless. Steve was a great husband, but when it came to teaching her anything, patience with Gretchen wasn't one of his strong points.

Now she sat in front of a machine that was as alien to her as some of the more modern books students chose to read. As she began to type, twice Gretchen deleted something, then lost the document completely. After the secretary came and brought it back up, Gretchen was befuddled to see all she'd typed in was lost. About ready to quit and go home, an argument caught Gretchen's attention.

"I've taken the class twice," a young man argued. "And I've flunked it both times. I need help."

"I'm sorry," said the secretary. "You just don't qualify for assistance."

"And If I was retarded, I'd get all the help I needed," he complained.

Before the secretary could respond, Gretchen came over. "Young man," she spoke firmly. "Do you know anything about computers?"

"Who doesn't?" he shot back.

"Apparently I don't."

"Sure. I'm not going to get any help here."

Following Gretchen back, she was surprised when he gestured at the seat in front of the computer. Steven's usual answer was to push her aside and do the deed himself. Instead, she was patiently guided step by step to fill out the form.

"Now you need to save," the young man instructed, "then hit send. Good job."

"I'm Gretchen," she said holding out a hand.

"Parker. And yeah that's my first name."

"You're a good teacher," Gretchen stated. When the young man started to brush off her compliment, she reprimanded him. "Don't insult me by calling me a liar. When someone makes a positive statement about you, you should say thank you. I couldn't help but overhear, you're having trouble with English."

"I need this last class to get my GED if I'm ever going to get better employment."

"I just so happen to be a retired English teacher. Tell you what. I'll make you a trade. You teach me some more useful things about the computer and I'll help you pass your English class. There has to be somewhere we can meet."

"Really?" Parker stated in surprise.

"I can see if there's space in the conference rooms we use for tutoring down the hall," the secretary suggested.

"That works for me," Gretchen said. "You bring your assignments tomorrow. I have a laptop one of my daughter's bought me. Say we meet there at about nine?"

"I can do that," Parker said. "Just make sure your computer is fully charged."

"Charged?"

Parker laughed. "Just bring it."

The following day they met. After two hours, both had made much progress. "I'm impressed. I'd like to pay you for your time," Gretchen said.

Parker wanted to refuse, but he could really use the money. "It's not much," Gretchen said. "You ought to think about instructing people, you're very good," she said, handing the young man $21 dollars.

When Parker spotted the bill with writing on it, he gave off a snort.

"So you do your homework and I'll do mine," Gretchen continued, looking dubiously at her laptop. "Shall we meet at the same time next week?"

"Sure," Parker said, adding, "I'll show you how to set up a file." The look of horror on Gretchen's face made him laugh.

September 24th

Life Isn't always Fair

Driving to work, Parker felt good about his future. He'd dropped out of high school at the age of sixteen, thinking he didn't need a piece of paper stating he'd graduated. After nearly four years, he came to realized that the diploma he so carelessly dismissed was his ticket to a better way of life.

Working through the Adult Education program, he'd been able to pass many of the required classes for his GED. Unfortunately, like in high school, English became his stumbling block. Then he met Gretchen. The retired English teacher explained things to him in ways others hadn't. To show her faith in him, she'd passed on a one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you.

In turn, he'd given her lessons on using her laptop. In payment, she'd given him a twenty to go with the one. "You're a good teacher," had been Gretchen comment.

Pulling into a parking space, Parker headed to his job in a large discount store. At his locker, he dumped his wallet and keys inside, forgetting about the twenty-one dollars in his pocket.

Having a good working knowledge of electronics had netted him an assignment in that department. Since school has started, kids and parents were in looking for calculators and other educational items. As he was explaining something to a student and his mother, Parker pulled out his cell phone to look something up. The money in his pocket fell out. When the mother picked up the cash, she spotted the bill with the writing on it.

"Got yourself a sweetheart," she teased lightly.

"No ma'am," Parker said respectfully. "Just someone who believes in me."

What Parker didn't see was a fellow employee watching him. Later that day when Parker counted his cash drawer, he was exactly twenty-one dollars short. The amount struck him as odd. He was half tempted to put the cash in his pocket into the drawer, but that would mean letting go of the special one-dollar bill. Instead, Parker logged the shortage and ended his shift.

Two days later when Parker counted his cash drawer, this time he was $78 short. The amount was so strange. Then he remembered the purchase. It had been a couple who had bought two video games for their son's birthday. They had paid in cash. Parker knew he'd collected the money, but the funds were not there. Once again he logged the shortage.

The next day though, he was called into the main office. "This is the second time your cash drawer has come up short," his supervisor stated.

"I know. I'm careful, but I can't explain it," Parker stated.

"It's been brought to my attention that the first time you were short, you had money on you."

The statement caught Parker completely by surprise. He tried to think.

"The amount of your shortage was $21 dollars. The same amount you had in your pocket."

Now temper started to brew. "I didn't know I was being watched that closely. Are you accusing me of stealing?" Parker demanded.

"It just seems odd to me," his supervisor responded.

"I happened to have the cash on hand because of a favor I did for someone and they decided to pay me for my time. I shoved the money in my pocket and forgot about it."

The explanation did not satisfy his supervisor. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend you."

"We both know that the store's fancy way of saying I'm fired. So I'll save us both the trouble and quit." Getting up Parker walked to his locker and cleared out. As he walked out of the store, he paid no mind when someone called his name.

A few days later Parker answered his door to find Xena standing there with an angry look on her face. "Why didn't answer me when I called your name the other day!" she demanded. "I had to hear from someone else you were fired."

"No, I quit."

"And you don't call and tell me. I thought we were friends."

"We are. Come in," Parker invited. After sitting on the couch, he explained what had happened. "It was just so odd that I was $21 dollars short the first time and I can't explain what happened the second. All I know is I didn't take the money."

"I know you didn't. What are going to do?"

"Funny you should ask. I told Gretchen about what happened." When Xena's eyes narrow, Parker laughed. "She's in her sixties and my English tutor. She really likes the lessons I've been giving her on using her laptop. There's a few other people she knows who are having a hard time using their devices. Gretchen is going to put the word out and we're going to organize a class. Looks like I'm going into business giving lessons to the older generations. Heck, my folks said they'd even come."

"You're not mad about losing your job?" Xena asked.

"Only about not seeing you each day." Then taking a tentative chance, Parker leaned over to give Xena a testing kiss. When she didn't pull back, he smiled. The store had a strict no dating fellow employees policy. Since he didn't work there anymore, why not.

"What took you so long?" Xena asked.

"A stupid job."

Pulling the one-dollar bill out of his pocket, Parker studied it. "The way I see it, whoever the thief is, he or she's done me a favor." Playfully he held out the one-dollar bill to Xena.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because in an odd kind of way, it changed the course of my life. Maybe yours too?"

OCTOBER

October 3rd

Attempting to Right a Wrong

When life throws you a curve, you better be prepared to catch. Such was the case when Xena discovered that Parker had feelings for her. The kiss he'd given her a few minutes ago wasn't that of a friend, but of someone who was interested in seeing where life would lead them. Then he'd handed her a dollar bill that said; Smile; someone special loves you.

They had met while working at the local super discount store and each day for the past two years had enjoyed having a meal or sharing breaktime together. Then last week things had changed when Parker had been accused of stealing. The store's policy was to suspend an employee until the situation could be further explored. What it really meant you were fired. Not being stupid, Parker had quit before the store could officially give him the ax.

Nonetheless, it hadn't seemed fair and Xena wanted answers. Raised by a cop, she knew how to take in all the facts. Parker was what he appeared to be; a hard-working individual who was going through the adult ed program to get a high school diploma, hoping to gain better employment. So the thievery didn't make sense.

At home, she went to her father's workshop. Patiently her father listened as Xena laid out what she knew. Parker's till had come up $21 dollars short, the exact amount he'd had in his pocket that day. The second was a cash transaction he knew for sure he'd collected the money.

"How do you think the money was stolen? Don't employees stay by their cash drawer until they are off the floor?" her father asked.

"The people in the front do, but like in my department, we're on the move throughout the store during our shift, helping customers as well as ringing up sales."

Her father considered. "How does one get into their cash drawer?"

"We each have our own code."

"Did he give his out?"

"No. And I know Parker's careful about stuff like that." Knowing her father wanted to understand how the system worked, Xena gave him a further explanation. "When you take on a shift, you use your number to enter the station you're working at, then you put in your cash drawer. That locks other employees out. When you're finished with your shift, you enter your code again and then sign off. During your shift, you are the only one who has access to your drawer."

"What about breaks or when you take your lunch?"

"You sign in and out when you take a meal break if your upfront. In the back it's different. We leave our cash draw in during those times. But that's not the only time we're away from our post. I know I've been away from the electronic department for as much as thirty minutes. You leave to help one customer find something and on the way back to your station you can get waylaid by another."

"Anyone mess with your drawer."

"No. But then most people know my father's a cop." The statement was made with pride and had both of them grinning. "What I can't figure out is how the thief got into Parker's cash drawer?"

Her father's soft chuckle said he had already come up with a few possibilities. "Can't count times people thought things were full proof. Sounds like your thief has found a way around the system. This individual could be a very observant person. My take is he or she will lay low now that his victim has quit or be greedy and strike again."

The store thief chose the latter and Halley's cash drawer was light $53 two days later. As Halley fretted over the shortage, Xena considered. The girl was very bright, but not observant. She loved chatting with customers and sometimes got so busy, she didn't close her drawer all the way. There were a few times Xena had done the shutting for Halley.

At home, Xena ran the facts by her father again. One of her dad's hobbies was tinkering with hide-able cameras and listening devices. It had been the reason Xena was so knowledgeable about the field of electronics and had landed a job in that department. Plucking up what looked like a small colorful toy ball off a shelf, her father showed her the camera hidden inside. Then he explained when positioned in the right place, this would monitor who opened the drawer. That way, Xena could see if it was only Halley who was working out of her cash drawer.

The next day, Xena set the disguised device in a place where things could be monitored. Her phone would receive the signal and record all activity. Later that night, she reviewed the feed and was disappointed at the angle. All she got was Halley's hands each time she did a transaction. About to give up, Xena spotted a pair of hands she didn't recognize reaching into Halley's slightly open drawer. Watching, Xena confirmed the taking of several bills, which had to be Halley's large shortage at the end of today's shift.

Arriving at work the next day, Xena went directly to the store supervisor to report what she had observed. Mr. Nelson listened with more of an annoyance than anything else. "It appears you have time on your hands during your shift."

"I reviewed the footage last night at home," Xena replied, working to keep her own impatience out of her voice. "You have the evidence right here."

"And what do you expect me to do. Look at everyone's hands who work here."

"So you'd rather ruin the reputation and shatter someone's self-esteem than catch a thief?" Xena retorted.

"A thief?" Mr. Wallrath questioned as he stepped into the office. "Explain," he demanded, for the entire store was his responsibility. Giving him the rundown of the crimes, Xena stated firmly that Parker and Halley were innocent of the thievery. Looking at the man in charge of employees, Wallrath demanded an explanation.

"Sir," Nelson interjected, "we don't have time to look into this. Besides all Xena has is a picture of a pair of hands. For all we know she could have staged this to clear her two friends."

"May I," Mr. Wallrath asked, holding out his hand for her phone.

Queuing up her evidence, Xena waited. The man paused at the best shot and studied. "I know who this is. I'll deal with this personally." Looking at Xena, he asked the short footage be sent to him. Then turning to Nelson, added, "I think it time you were put on suspension until we've looked into the matter."

"Sir!" Nelson exclaimed.

At the end of her shift, Xena felt good, for the work she'd done had paid off. Halley was reinstated and Parker was offered his job back. He had declined, stating he'd found other employment.

As she neared her home, Xena spotted a lovely dresser on someone's lawn with a big free sign on it. Pulling over to the curb, she thought of her brother's daughter. With Irena turning three, her parents were converting her room from baby to little girl. They had been looking at furniture and complaining about prices. Though the dresser needed a little care, it was perfect.

Hopping out of her car, Xena loaded the drawers in the front seat, thinking she could slide the dresser into the back. Unfortunately, the piece proved to be too big for her car.

"God," she muttered to herself. "I sure could use a little help here."

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when a white pickup came towards her. Waving a hand, Xena was pleased when the driver stopped. "I only live the next block over. Could you please place this into the bed of your truck and take it to my house?"

The man smiled and hopping out, walked over to the dresser. It was at that moment Xena realized the driver had to be in his seventies.

"You help me get it into the back of my pickup truck. I'll follow you to where you live and drop it off for you," the elderly gentleman stated.

Grateful for the help, Xena grabbed one end. Within minutes they were in front of her home. Carefully they deposited the dresser by the front of the house.

"Thank you so much," she exclaimed. "My brother will be thrilled." Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the one-dollar bill. "I'd like you to have this."

At first the man refused, then spotted the writing. After reading it, he accepted the small token with grace. It would be an interesting conversational piece for him and his own brother. After bidding the young woman a good day, Eddy got into his truck and headed for the local hardware store.

October 8th

Optimist Vs Pessimist

The man will never learn, Eddy mused, running an errand for his brother. Getting out of his truck, he headed for the hardware store that he preferred in the downtown area, instead of the discount store Ed had wanted.

Earlier Eddy had stopped to help a young woman move a dresser. In turn, she'd given him a one-dollar bill with the words Smile; someone special loves you, written across the front. Entering the store, Eddy wondered what his brother's opinion would be about the money, not to mention the help he'd given the young lady

Edward and Edwin were identical twins, but their looks were the only thing that was the same about them. Their mother said that they had started arguing in the womb and would probably continue doing so until the day they died.

When Eddy lost his beloved Edith, he'd been very lonely. Even with his kids and grandchildren coming around, it wasn't the same as sharing the day to day living with someone. Then the family had a scare when Ed suffered a near-fatal heart attack. Since the man never married, Ed had no family who could take care of him. It made sense for Eddy to move in with his brother. That had been five years ago, and since they offered each other company, he'd stayed.

Going to the section where nails could be found, Eddy selected what his brother needed to fix the fence. What it really needed was to be replaced, only Ed was too cheap to do that. Until it fell down, he'd hammer the rotten wood back into place.

Though going to the smaller store meant he'd paid more, Eddy didn't care. When they split the cost, he'd make up the difference. As he picked up the type of nails Ed had specifically requested, a young man was asking a sales clerk a question. Since the clerk didn't know the answer, Eddy made a few suggestions. Later at the grocery store, Eddy stood in line to pick up a prescription. The young mother before him was holding a very fussy baby, while she was trying to pay for her purchase.

"Let me hold her," Eddy offered.

When the mother gave him a wary look, the pharmacist assured her that Eddy was a good guy and no harm would come to her child. Once the baby was in Eddy's arms the child cooed at him. After paying for her medicine, the mother commented on how good he was with children.

"Should be," Eddy laughed. "Had three of my own and six grandchildren. You have a good day now."

When he arrived at the home he shared with his twin, Eddy began the process of putting groceries away. His brother came in from the backyard, already out of breath from doing yard work. Talking to him about hiring someone to do the job, or at least help out was pointless. After pulling out one of the bottles of water he'd refilled out of the refrigerator, Ed looked at what Eddy was putting away. Several of the items were a bone of contention with him. "What's your problem," Eddy stated. "You eat what I fix and don't complain about it. It's my money and I'll buy the ingredients I like when it's my turn to cook."

Picking up the receipt, Ed began to grumble. "You paid too much for the nails."

"So I did. Add the difference to my end of the bill."

"That's' not the point. You spend your money so carelessly."

"Ah, but it's my money to spend. What are you going to do with all you have squirreled away? Take it with you?"

Instead of answering, Ed asked who his brother had talked to. With each story told, Ed found a sinister outcome. "What if that girl had been a mugger. She could have had an accomplice. You might be dead right now. What are you going to do if that kid makes a mistake and sues you? And the young mother ..."

"Was appreciative of a few moments of peace so she could gather her thoughts and listen to instructions on how to properly take her medicine." Digging out the dollar bill, Eddy set it on the table. "The would-be mugger gave this to me. What dastardly deed do you figure is behind the message?"

Looking at the bill closely, Ed read the words. "If you ask me it's fake. I'd throw it in the trash." Then grabbing up the nails went to fix the broken part of the fence.

A few nights later over bowls of stew, they sat with their younger sister Terri. Life hadn't been easy for her. She'd been a great help with Edith as her sister-in-law dealt with advance breast cancer, not realizing after Edith's passing she'd be watching her own husband die of bone cancer a few years later.

"Something wrong with the stew?" Eddy asked.

Leaning back, Terri picked up the half of glass of wine she was allowing herself. "It's fine. Especially since you made it. I can always tell when Ed cooks."

"Hey," her other brother complained. "What's wrong with my cooking."

"You go cheap," she retorted.

"There's nothing wrong in saving a few cents here and there."

"Unless most of what you saved goes in the garbage," she teased back. Then sighed.

"You and mom getting along?" Eddy asked.

"Yes. Even better than when we were kids. You should have seen her when I dropped her off tonight to play bridge with her cronies. She was wearing the earnings I gave her the other day. I heard her bragging to a friend about her just because gift."

"What then?" Eddy asked.

Picking up her spoon, she played with a bit of potato. "The same thing. That sense of homelessness I feel from time to time."

"You're not homeless," Ed barked. "Your living with mom. Helping take care of her. You were able to sell your place and get out from under that huge mortgage. Shouldn't have bought it in the first place. I told you ..."

"Ed," Eddy snapped, "Shut up." Laying a hand over their sister's, he added gently, "I know what you mean. When Edith was gone, the house was just too big for me. When I moved in here so my Suie and her family have the house, I felt somewhat displaced."

Picking up her wine she smiled a little. One widow/widower understood another. "Some days are so hard. Even after three years, I've got stuff spread over here and Andy's. My son's great about letting me store stuff there, but at times I get so frustrated when I go looking for something and have to wrack my brain to try to remember where it is, or if we sold it in the garage sale."

"It takes time to settle, sis," Eddy stated. Since he was being excluded from the conversation, Ed got up and left. Neither paying attention. "I still miss her and look for her," Eddy continued. "The first year here nearly drove me crazy. I know you didn't have time to sort through things as I did, but to tell you the truth, I think it was easier."

"Easier! You don't know the things I miss. Mom's great and has been so patient with me." A tear trailed down her cheek. "I want home!" Terri nearly sobbed.

Returning to the room, Ed rested a hand on his sister's shoulder. "I don't know if this will help or not," Ed commented. "I think Eddy finally felt settled when he hung that painting Edith did for him on the wall in the living room. Is there something you could put in Mom's house that would make it fell like you really belonged there?"

Mentally running through the items still scattered between her bothers' and son's home, Terri couldn't think of a thing at the moment.

"Why don't you give her that bill you got the other day?" Ed suggested.

"The one you called a fake," Eddy retorted."

"Fake or not, it has a message our sister needs."

Getting up, Eddy plucked it out from under the magnet attached to the refrigerator. Taking the one-dollar bill, Terri was comforted when her two brothers sandwiched her between them in a hug.

October 15th

Finding Home

Dinner with her brothers always made Terri feel good. Over bowls of hearty beef stew, one of them had given her a one-dollar bill that said; Smile, someone special loves you. This was true, for if it hadn't been for her family's support, Terri doubted she'd have made it through losing her husband of forty-three years.

When Alfred had died, there was no way she could have stayed in the house they had purchased, for without his income Terri wasn't able to make the mortgage payments. Though it had been advised not to make any major changes in her life for at least year, she had no choice but to sell as quickly as possible. The next dilemma was where to live. That was easily solved when her mother offered to allow Terri to move in with her. Since her mother was getting up in years, having someone living with her only made sense. The problem was clearing out of the home she had lived in for more than thirty years meant the items she had chosen to keep were scattered between where she was to live, as well as her son's and brothers' home

The house she now shared with her mother was more than big enough for the two of them. Annie had converted one of three bedrooms into a den, and had her own room, leaving Terri the third and living room to do as she pleased. Still, it took time to merge two households together and make needed changes.

Even with all that, the house had never felt completely like home to her. Some understood her statement of a sense of homelessness, while others did not. One of her brothers whose wife had also passed years earlier suggested she put something of Alfred's in the main part of the house, but the question was what.

Terri had held onto a few of her husband's clothes, along with several personal items like his wedding ring and wrist pocket. Yet the feeling of homelessness persisted.

One day after shopping, Terri stopped by her son's home, where Belle always made her feel welcome. Their two girls were growing like weeds. Terri loved to spoil Sophie and Mia whenever she could. At four and two, the kids were very active. Sophie had talked about wanting to be a fairy princess for Halloween, with Mia changing her mind every time Terri saw her. Finding outfits that could double as sleepwear, Terri showed off her discovery. As the girls jumped excitedly with joy, Terri spotted the clock on the wall.

She remembered the day Alfred had found the timepiece on one of their many trips. Instantly he had fallen in love with the clock. At the striking of every hour, the inner part opened up to reveal the workings inside, while playing tunes like Tennessee Waltz and Bridge Over Troubled Water. During the holidays the music could be switched to traditional Christmas melodies. He so enjoyed showing off the piece. After it had been purchased, he often looked for the clock in other shops. When he found one like his, he'd inquire of the price, then would be either proud he'd gotten a good deal or grumbled he'd paid too much money for the one he owned.

"How attached to dad's clock are you"," Terri asked her son Andy.

"I'm not mom. You had me keep it over here until you found a place for it at grandma's. It's yours to take whenever you want."

"Can you come over and help me hang it?"

"Sure. Why don't you take it and I'll come over after work tomorrow and hang it for you."

Doing so, Terri found a careful place to set the clock. Then after installing batteries, she began to set the time. Turning the knob that moved the hands quickly caused a problem. As the clock chimed the hour, the inner part opened, but did not close.

"No!" Terri cried out in panic. Carefully she made sure the clock was in an upright position and tried turning the hands again. This time when it cycled through and the face drew closed, it was slightly misaligned.

Keeping his promise the following day, Andy came over and the two of them found the perfect spot to mount the clock on the wall. Hearing the chimes of one of the familiar songs again was soothing. When Andy brushed his mother's arm, there was a bit of mischief in his eyes. "Better watch out," he teased. "You never know when you'll be hearing Christmas."

"You leave Dad's clock alone," she warned. "When I want Christmas music, I'll switch it."

"Mom," he said gently. "It's your clock now."

As she studied the clock later that night, the slight misalignment bugged her a bit, making Terri considering finding a clock repair place. Then it dawned on her. Her life was working, even if it was a little off-center, so she decided to leave the clock as it was.

Later that night, Terri listened as the clock chimed the hour to the tune of Whiter Shades of Pale and for the first time since her husband's death Terri felt a deep sense of contentment. Looking at the clock, she gave thanks. Having something that was special to Alfred was what she needed to complete her journey of finding home.

When Saturday arrived, Terri picked up her two granddaughters for their planned trip to the neighboring pumpkin patch. As the girls ran through the rows of different sizes of orange orbs, Terri laughed. Sophie studied each one, trying to find the perfect one, while Mia wanted one that was nearly as big as she was. Helping them find ones that suited the girls, Terri took the pumpkins to the cash register. As she took out money to pay for them, Terri spotted the dollar bill her brother had given her. Deciding it was time to pass it on, she handed the money to the young man.

"This sure is a strange bill," the clerk commented.

"It nice once in a while to remember the message," Terri's replied.

Shrugging, Cody stuffed it into the till, before waiting on the next customer.

October 26th

Finding Treasure in a Pumpkin Patch

Life couldn't have been sweeter for Cody. How many people did he know that had a job that required a person to dress in costume while working in a pumpkin patch selling pumpkins! The odd bill he'd received the previous weekend, stating Smile; someone special loves you, backed that point.

Since the age of ten, he'd helped out with the community patch Cody's father organized with other farmers. Almost all the pumpkins were grown locally.

If you asked Cody what his favorite time of year was, he'd tell you without a moment's hesitation; Halloween! He probably was the only sixteen-year-old kid who had more in the way of costumes than clothes, to which most of them he'd created himself. Being clever, Cody had sewn, gathered, glued and assembled his wide selection. In his wardrobe, he could dress up like a robot, wizard, monster, and alien to name just a few. His enjoyment was to amuse the customers who came out in the late afternoon and on weekends.

On the Saturday before Halloween, Cody was dressed in a pirate costume, when an older woman walked up to him. "Excuse me," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "My class was here yesterday with my class of third graders. I was hoping someone might have turned in a bracelet. It's made of thin gold chains connecting three pieces of metal, that have the name Mitchell and Eloise engraved on two and a date on the third.

"Not that I'm aware of," Cody replied. "Let me check with my dad." Cody returned a few seconds later. "No ma'am, no one turned in any type of jewelry."

The women looked very close to tears. "I was so hoping," she murmured. Handing him a card with her name and number on it, the teacher added. "If by chance you find it, would you please give me a call."

As the woman walked off, Shelby came over. Like Cody, she worked the weekends in the pumpkin patch. They were distant cousins who attended the same high school. "That was my third-grade teacher Mrs. Wheaton. I remember her because my brothers had her as well. She looked upset."

"She thinks she lost a bracelet out here."

Shelby looked around the large area. "If she did, it's lost for good."

"I don't know. My mom has this heart bracelet my dad gave her with hands clasping it on each side. One the of hands unhooked so she could slip it on. Over time, the hand came loose, then one day she lost it. We looked all over the place for it, but the little piece of jewelry wasn't to be found. Then about two days later, there it was on the porch hanging off one of the wooden planks. It looked like God had put it there. Heck, he might have put Mrs. Wheaton's bracelet somewhere special like that," Cody added scanning the crowd.

There were at least twenty people milling around. It was nearly eleven and twice that many people had come through already that morning. The chances of the bracelet being found and pocketed by someone was more likely than to be found lying around somewhere. Especially since it was made of gold.

The word gold had an idea forming in Cody's mind. Cupping his hands close to his mouth, he shouted, "TREASURE HUNT." When people started to look his way, he motioned for them to come and join him. Grabbing the special one-dollar bill, he waited until the children had gathered around him.

"Arrrr maties. I've lost something precious," he said with a swagger in his voice. "It's a gold bracelet. Any matie that finds it for me will get a reward."

"What?" a little girl with big brown eyes cried out eagerly.

"This here one-dollar bill."

"That's lame," a boy of nine called out.

"And," Cody added, hoping it would peak the crowd's interest. Your choice of a pumpkin." He did his best to describe the lost bracelet. "Now remember maties, you have to look carefully around the pumpkins. You need to treat them with care as you search. Good luck on your hunt."

There were only about seven kids ranging from five to eleven who were interested. Some of the adults had seen the distraught women leave and had listened to what Cody had said. As the kids took off on their hunt, the adults asked a few questions before looking around themselves. But within ten minutes, most had forgotten the treasure hunt.

"It was a nice idea," Shelby said as she rang up a sale.

"Doesn't your dad have a metal detector?" he asked.

"I think so. Maybe we could get it and do a search of our own. If I find it, I get the dollar," she stated.

"Arrr," Cody teased. "Find the lost treasure and the bill's yours matie."

The comment had Shelby laughing as she walked over to help two kids carry a pumpkin as big as they were. For over an hour, the two worked and waited on costumers. All the while, Shelby kept an eye out for something shiny in the dirt. What made her look in one direction, she couldn't say, but the flash caught her attention. Walking over to a fat pumpkin sitting on the ground, she caught just the glint of something at the base. Bending down, Shelby saw only a small piece of metal as the rest was completely covered by dirt. Picking it up, she saw the names and the date match Mrs. Wheation's description. Doing some quick math, she realized her teacher would soon be celebrating their 44th anniversary next month. Pleased with her find, she examined the damage. One of the small rings must have opened up just enough to make the bracelet fall off her teacher's wrist. The ring was still attached, so it would be an easy fix.

Curious as to what had Shelby's attention, Cody walked over. Immediately, Shelby held out the missing piece of jewelry. "This will make her day," Cody said. "I'll give her a call right now."

But before he could pull out his phone, Shelby held out her hand. "Pay up."

Handing over the dollar bill, Cody added, "Pick your pumpkin."

October 31st

My Hero

Halloween was just the start of the holiday season and Shelby loved every minute of it. Arriving at her aunt's house after school, she dumped the bag with her costume out on the big bed she'd be sleeping in tonight. In among the slips, skirts and assorted jewelry was a one-dollar bill that said, Smile, someone special loves you. It had been her reward from her cousin for finding a lost bracelet, that had the owner weeping with joy at its return.

"Tonight, you'll be my good luck charm," Shelby said for some strange reason.

Since Shelby lived out in the country, transportation to town was sometimes difficult. At sixteen, she'd had no interest in getting her license. What good would it do to have one, when she'd have no car to drive. Money was tight and the expense of an extra vehicle was not in the family budget.

Her parents had agreed to let her attend tonight's festivities in town since she'd worked so hard at the pumpkin patch stand they set up every year. With Halloween falling on a Thursday, Shelby would need to attend school the next day. So her parents wouldn't be inconvenienced, she had been invited to spend the night at her Aunt Rosa's house.

With fun, Shelby dressed the part of a gypsy. Putting on three layers of slips and two full skirts, she then tucked a very low-cut blouse inside the waistband. Her dark brown hair was long and had a wave to it. Using a curling rod, she turned the mass of it into wild curls. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, she added heavy makeup to accent her eyes. Since the night was warm, her plan was to go barefoot at the party. Stuffing black tennies shoes into her backpack for her walk to her aunt's house, Shelby snagged up the dollar bill before taking off to have some fun.

The party was a big success. Kory's parents were great, hosting this event ever year as a safe place for high schoolers to party. There where games, music, food, fun, and more food. By the end of the evening Shelby though she'd burst from being so full. It was just after eleven when she decided to head to her aunt's. As promised Shelby gave her aunt a call.

"I don't know if I like you walking alone at this late hour," Rosa complained.

"It's just two blocks and I'm leaving right now. I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen tops."

Bidding her hostess a good night, she promised to call Kory's mother as soon as she got to her destination.

As Shelby walked, she began to feel uneasy. A gray van had cruised by, then slowed. Instinct had Shelby turning and walking up to the nearest house as if she lived there. The driver drove on. Scared, Shelby wasn't sure what to do, when a large German Shepard came up to greet her.

"Buster!" Shelby cried in delight. "What are you doing running about. Russell is going to be worried about you." The dog licked lavishly at her face. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

As the two continued their journey, the van came up beside them. Buster growled deep in his throat.

The night had been warm, so it was understandable the windows would be rolled down. "You lost," the man called from the driver seat.

"No," Shelby answered. "I know where I'm going."

Still, she became alarmed when he got out of the vehicle. "I can give you a ride," the man said coming forward. Then stopped dead in his track when the big dog began barking furiously. Frighten, he got in his van and drove off.

Shaken, Shelby patted Buster's head. "Good boy," she said, her voice quivering with fear, "Good boy."

Quickly Shelby walked the rest of the way. Her intention was to see Buster got home, then returned to her aunt's house. But the dog had other plans. All at once he took off on a dead run and disappeared into the night.

Hurrying up the steps, she was greeted by her aunt. "Buster walked me home. We need to let Russell know he out and running loose."

"Did you say Buster?" Rosa asked in confusion.

"Yes." Then Shelby told of her frightening experience. "If Buster hadn't been with me, I don't know what would have happened."

"Honey," her aunt replied. "It couldn't have been Buster. He died last month." Shocked, Shelby only stared. "Did you get a good look at the man?" When her niece nodded yes, Rosa picked up the phone and called the police. They came and were thankful for the information, for they had received reports of a strange van in the area stalking young girls, only no one had been able to give them a description of the driver.

Over the weekend, Shelby came into town. She still didn't believe the dog was dead. She'd touched his fur and felt the dog lick her face. Knocking on Russell's door, she was greeted by a man in his late fifties. Years early he'd recused Buster from some kids who had been abusing the pup.

"I heard Buster died," she said slowly.

"Your aunt told me of your experience," Russell said while leading the girl through the house. In the backyard, he showed her the dog's grave. Kneeling down, Shelby wept a little, but also said a quiet thank you for the protection he had offered her that night. Standing, Shelby held out the dollar bill. "I'd like you to have this," she said.

At first, Russell started to refuse, but saw the writing on the bill. Touched he accepted the gesture.

"Are you going to get another dog?" Shelby asked.

Then looking at Buster's grave, Russell replied. "If the right one comes along."

NOVEMBER

November 3rd

Sent From Above

Looking at the evening paper, Russell felt restless. With the death of his beloved dog Buster, Russell's routine had been out of sync. A German Shepard/Labrador mix, he'd been a great dog. After dinner, weather permitting, he and Buster had taken a walk for the last sixteen years. Then recently in his sleep, Buster had simply passed away.

Folding the paper, Russell went out into the backyard where his dog was buried by the tree he so loved to rest under. With his hands in his pocks, fingers brushed against a one-dollar bill that said; Smile, someone special loves you. There was nothing like the love of a loyal dog, Russell thought as he reminisced on how Buster had come into his life.

On that faithful day, it was close to winter when Russell had gotten off work from his job as a security guard. He was walking out to the parking lot when the sound of whimpering reached his ears. In the darkness, he spotted two teens who were carrying a young dog with them. The sounds the animal made was pitiful. What struck Russell as odd, was the youths didn't seem to care. Instinct had him following the boys. When they turned into a dark ally, Russell knew the dog was doomed.

"Hey," he called and immediately the teens jumped. "What do you have there?" Russell demanded.

Startled, the one carrying the dog dropped it and the pair ran. Walking over to the animal, it was obvious the creature was in trouble. Limping, the dog moved toward Russell, then licked the hand that reached down to pet him with gratitude. From what Russell observed the back leg was broken. As his hand brushed over fur, something wet hit his fingers. As if in pain, the dog whimpered. Moved with pity, Russell picked up the pup.

His first stop was to an animal hospital. The news was grim, for the dog definitely had been abused by the teens. Sadly, there was nothing the vet could do, since there was no one to pay for treatment the animal would need to recover. Euthanasia was the recommended option.

"I'll pay for his care," Russell offered, with the dog nuzzled in his arms. As the doctor stepped out to make arrangements, Russell ran a hand over the damaged fur. "You need a name," Russell decided. Looking at the different shades of brown fur reminded Russell of a stuffed animal he'd had as a child. "How about Buster?" At the sound of the man's voice, the dog's tail began to wag. "Then Buster it is."

Though the boys were never found, the love between man and dog grew. His kids were excited to have a pet, but Buster's loyalty was to his savior. When the dog was well enough, the two started walking. The exercise seemed to relieve some of the stress Russell dealt with from work. This became their one on one time. Without fail, Buster would snag up his lease each day, as if to say, "Now. Can we go now!" Laughing Russell would comply.

Buster was no angle though. He dug up the flower bed each spring and chewed up the oddest things. Yet he was a great alarm system, barking at anyone who came to the door. One night when the dog wouldn't settle down, Russell wife was at her wit's end. The next day, the family learned there had been a burglary in the neighborhood. Had the thief targeted their house?

Great with kids, Buster seemed to know to be gentle and protective of babies and young children. The recent story of him walking a teenaged girl home sounded so like him. The only trouble was, Buster had passed before the encounter.

"I miss you so," Russell said. Squatting down, he brushed the leaves off his old's friend's resting place. "I know I can't replace you, but if you find a lost soul, send him or her my way."

The next day as Russell was getting out of his car a young dog ran up to him. "Hello," Russell said, surprised by the animal appearance. "Where did you come from?" The dog had no collar. Its fur was wet from the winter storm and splattered with mud

Gathering up his bags of groceries, Russell started for his house, with the dog at his side as if it lived there. "You better go home," he said unlocking the door. The dog barked as Russell went inside. Pausing, his heart went out to the animal. Stepping outside, he called to the young dog.

"What do you have there?" his wife called out.

"A lost dog," he replied, surprised the dog came along so obediently. Grabbing up one of the cans of dog food they hadn't bother to discard, Russell saw the pooch was fed and watered. Then running warm water in the large sink in the garage, he gave the animal good a bath. Rubbing clean fur with a towel, Russel was rewarded with licks of gratitude.

"What shall we call you?" Russell asked with a laugh. "Sadie." The dog barked in agreement. "Then until we learn your real name, we'll call you Sadie."

Judging by the breed, Russell thought there was some lab and pit in his new friend, but he wasn't sure what else. Taking a guess, Russell judged this female to be maybe six to eight months old. The next day, Russell walked through the neighborhood trying to find the owner, but one knew where she'd come from. He did the next responsible thing and contacted the local pound.

"Do you want us to come out and get the dog?" the officer asked.

"No. I'll keep her until you find her owner."

"I tell you what I think," the officer commented. "Sounds to me like someone dumped her on the street. If no one claims her in thirty days, you can have her if you want."

"I'll think about it," Russell said. Hanging up the phone, he looked at Sadie. "Did Buster send you?" he asked. As if to confirm a yes, the dog barked happily.

Taking her to the vet, Sadie was given a clean bill of health. The vet agreed Sadie was another dump, which as of late was becoming the way people got rid of unwanted pets. Taking a chance, Russell made the decision to provide Sadie a home if no one claimed her.

His first stop was a pet store to buy what he needed for Sadie. Playful at home, she ran around barking with excitement. It took Russell a few minutes to hook the new walking harness on. Before they left, he did the right thing by stuffing a poop bag into his pocket. Sure enough about a block from home, Sadie stopped to do her business. Like a good pet owner, Russell pulled out the bag, not noticing the one-dollar he still had in his pocket had fallen out. As he cleaned up Sadie's mess, the wind blew the special bill down the street.

November 9th

Clowning Around

Autumn was in full bloom as Tia headed down the street. Colorful leaves crunched under her skateboard's wheels, as a cold wind blew them around. With her mind on where she needed to be, Tia was suddenly startled when a one-dollar bill floated up from nowhere and landed on her pants leg. Stopping, she snagged it before the wind could send the money on its way. Pausing, she read the words, Smile; someone special loves you, written across the front. With a laugh, she shoved the money into her oversized jacket pocket and took off, her green hair flapping in the wind.

From the time she was a little girl, her parents had always encouraged their children to follow their dreams, never realizing that Tia's ambition was to become a clown. Her father's brother was a professional clown, and she'd always been fascinated by his performances. At age ten, she'd asked him to make up her face. When he did, Arthur had no idea of the door he'd just open.

For the next two years any chance Tia got, she would play with face paint in an effort to recreated what her uncle had done. Finally, the family gave in and let Arthur once more make up her face, hoping it would satisfy the phase she was going through. Far from it.

Over the last two years, Tia had tinkered and adjusted the image. Then at fourteen started appearing at parties to do tricks and entertain people. Even Arthur was impressed with the various routines and started working with her to fine-tune her performances. Then on her fifteenth birthday, he helped Tia register her face as her signature work as a clown.

From that point on she'd worked entertaining people with her jokes and funny sense of humor. Today she was scheduled to perform at the party of a group of ten-year-olds. A hard age to impress, but Tia was sure she's wow them.

Arriving on time, she slipped into the bathroom to prepare her face and get into costume. The months of practice paid off, for Tia was quick at applying her make up. Then pulling an out a bright red bowler hat with a big yellow daisy sticking out on top, she was set.

Dressed in baggy jeans, a multicolored t-shirt, and flannel overshirt, she went out to do the job she'd been hired for. The kids spotted Tia at once.

"So you're the entertainment?" the birthday boy asked, eyeing Tia suspiciously. "What can you do?'

Height wise, Tia wasn't much taller than the kids watching her. At four foot-eleven inches, she was considered small for an adult. Yet that didn't bother her. Without saying a word, she moved her hands apart as if stretching something, then awed the party guests when a balloon appeared out of nowhere. Breathing into it, she made a long cylinder, then twisted it into a dog. Continuing her silent routine, she worked to make other things out of balloons, while making the children laugh.

After her performance, she hung around for a bit to watch the kids play party games and was treated to a very delicious piece of birthday cake. As the party began to whine down, she slipped into the bathroom to remove her makeup. Then with pay in her pocket, rode her skateboard home.

On Monday she sat at one of her school's lunch tables, algebra book opened, while eating a carton of yogurt. A good student, Tia hated math. When Ivan sat beside her, Tia had to complain. "Why do I need to know a^2-b^2 = c^2?"

"For the same reason they teach us about how a tribe in another country plant crops, thinking it will help us understand the world."

Laughter had Ivan looking across the room. Two of their classmates were pointing in Tia's direction. Looking at her friend, Ivan noticed Tia's hair was still green. "I thought you said the color you used was a washout."

"It is," Tia said still studying her textbook. "I freshened up the color for this weekend's gig."

"I thought clowns wore wigs."

"They do. I actually hate them. Makes my scalp itchy. Plus because I don't have to mess with a wig, I can get ready faster."

"Are you still planning to be a clown when you graduate?"

"Sure. What's wrong with that?"

Ivan turned to face his friend. Tia didn't have one ounce of fashion sense. Dressed more like a hobo in loose-fitting clothing, she looked the like the character she played, without the makeup.

Making his voice sound snooty, Ivan replied, "Because that isn't a noble profession for a young lady." Laughing, Tia agreed Ivan did a good job of imitating one of the school's councilors. "But I agree with Ms Bolts. You really can't make a good living being a clown," he added.

Flipping her book close, Tia took another bite of her yogurt. "I beg to differ. My uncle's been a professional clown for years. He has a degree in psychology. While going to college, he worked as a clown to make money. Then when he graduated and started working, he became depressed dealing with his patients' problems. So combining the two professions, he's had a great life. He, his wife and my two cousins have traveled, seeing a lot of the world because of what he does.

"I'm not naïve and know it's going to take work to establish myself, but I'm looking forward to all the fun and enjoyment I can bring to people," Tia added.

"How do you become a clown?" Ivan asked out of curiosity. "I mean there's no such thing as clown school, is there?"

"There sure are. And many of them have good reputations. I plan to do the two years at community college, before transferring."

Once more the girls two tables over were laughing. Digging into her yogurt once more, Tia commented. "I bet you those two over there couldn't tell you what their plans are after high school to save their life. They're too busy flirting with boys, or looking up the latest fashion trends."

Glancing at Tia, Ivan couldn't resist the tease. "You might want to consider taking a peek at what's fashionable once in a while."

Since the bell was about to ring, Tia put her books away. As the two began to move to their next class of the day, one of the girls who had been laughing walked by. "Too bad someone doesn't know Halloween is over."

"Yeah," Tia responded, "but I get paid for dressing up like a clown. What's your excuse?"

The comment threw the first girl, but her friend was quick with a comeback. "What? Five bucks for looking like an idiot."

"Actually, I get between fifty to three hundred for a performance." Then she smiled as the girls' mouth dropped open in shock. "I guess my clowning around pays off," Tia added smugly.

Later as the two friends rode the bus for home, Tia handed Ivan the one-dollar bill. "I going to pass this message onto you because I know who loves me."

Taking it, Ivan read the words, then asked, "Who?"

"Me, because I know who I am and where I'm going."

November 16th

A Stitch in Time

On any given day one might find the average fifteen-year-old boy playing sports or video games. Some liked even girl watching, as did Ivan, but for different reasons. He had a good eye for style and a talent for designing clothing and costumes. Not wanting to be label a geek or worse, he kept his sewing ability a secret. The only person who knew of what he could do with a needle and thread was best friend, Tia. Ivan admired her bold nature as Tia entertained people with her skill as a clown. The other day on the way home she gave him a one-dollar bill that said, Smile; someone special loves you. She wasn't going to let anyone tell her that her future career choice was foolish. Instead, Tia chose to follow her passion.

On this blustery day in November, Ivan sat at what had been his grandmother's sewing machine, hemming a pair of pants for Tia. Standing less than five feet, finding paints that fit had always been a problem for her. Off to one side, pinned to a dress form mannequin was a multicolored gypsy skirt Ivan had designed himself. He loved fabric, with its many colors and textures

Ever since he was ten, Ivan had spent many an hour at this grandmother's side learning the trade. At first, his parents thought it was a fad, then did all they could to discourage their son, but Ivan persisted. When his grandmother passed away last year, it was her wish that Ivan inherit her machines and sewing supplies. Since there was a large game room built in the backyard and his older brother had moved on to college, his parents had given him permission to take it over. From there Ivan had set up shop. Soon his mother, other family members, and even friends were giving him small repair jobs to do. His biggest accomplishment was the dress he'd sewed over the summer for his cousin's fall wedding. Being a big girl, finding a dress that fit turned into a nightmare. When asked, Ivan decided to give it a try. Everyone, including the bride, was shocked at the beautiful gown that had been created.

The next job that had been handed to him was figuring out clothing for another cousin who was disabled. Mentally intact, Brody had to struggle each day to get dressed. Ivan began altering many of his clothing to make the task so much simpler.

Clipping a thread, he got up to hand Tia the pants. Slipping behind the curtain of the dressing room Ivan had created, she tried them on. Stepping out with a flourish, her fuchsia colored hair bounced as Tia danced around the room. The pants she had on needed to have enough room so she could move freely. Under the baggy clothes she wore, was a tight athletic body. "Perfect," she cried, raising from the split she'd just done.

"Glad to be of assistance," Ivan said.

"You think any more about applying for the job I showed you?" she asked, snagging a grape from the plate of fruit his mother had provided.

"No," Ivan replied. "They just see me as a kid. No one's going to hire someone my age to mend or alter costumes, even if it is volunteer work."

"You don't know unless you ask. My uncle knows the director. The lady they've used for years broke her wrist and isn't going to be able to help them out. They got this big performance coming up. From what my uncle said, they're desperate. Just go and see. I'll go with you."

More nervous they'd make fun of him, Ivan reluctantly agreed. On the evening of the next day, Ivan found himself and Tia standing backstage as people rehearse their lines. It was some kind of comedy centered around the civil war era. The dialogue was quick and funny.

"You the seamstress?" a man asked Tia.

"Do I look like I know a stick pin from a thumbtack?" she asked. "He's the one you want."

The man was surprised. "You sew?" he asked Ivan.

Blushing, Ivan answered with a squeaky, "Yes."

"I was told to show you what we need fixed. Follow me."

With Tia in tow, the three headed back to a dressing room. A sewing machine was threaded and ready to go. Two long full dresses hung on hooks. One had a long tear in the skirt. Walking up, Ivan examined it. Lifting the skirt out to get the width, he decided how best to fix it. "I can sew this up with no problem, then run a seam down the other side to disguise the repair."

Instead of answering, the man pointed to the machine. Setting down the box he'd carried in, within minutes Ivan had the repair done, improving the shape of the dress. The other dress was much more difficult. Whoever was attempting the repair had taken several seams apart. Unpinning the sleeve from the bodice, Ivan tried to figure out where to begin.

"Who's wearing this?" he asked.

The manager called out for a girl by the name Aylssa. The brunette who came back was someone in his English class. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Fixing this," Tia remarked, pointing to the dress in Ivan's hands.

"Boys can't sew."

"They can too," Tia shot back. "Show her." Nerves had Ivan hesitating. "Come on Ivan," Tia demanded. "Do your thing!"

The sharp command got Ivan moving. Within minutes he had repinned the sleeve in place. Letting Aylssa go back to rehearsal, he sewed. Calling her back as he adjusted the fitting. By the time the practice was over, the dress was repaired.

"We can't pay you," the director remarked. "But your family are invited to any of our performances. I know Molly won't be returning for a long time. We sure could use someone with your skill. If you're interested."

"I am," Ivan said, for the first time feeling good about his accomplishments.

Excited, Tia danced with joy. As they stepped out of the building, they found Aylssa waiting for them. Dreading his secret was out, Ivan found himself regretting his decision to come. "I like what you did. How much do you charge for repairs? I've got this skirt that I love, but the hem is coming loose."

The next day three other students were coming up to ask about repair jobs, one even asking how much he'd charge to make her prom dress. Unfortunately, as Ivan feared, his talent reached some of the boys in his class. Unable to resist, one of them started taunting him.

To his surprise, three of the girls who were behind him, marched around Ivan to deal with their fellow classmate. "He's doing something constructive," one of them barked. "Instead of sitting in front of a TV blowing stuff up." Then turning to Ivan, asked, "A bunch of us are going to the movies Friday night, then out for pizza. Why don't you come and hang with us?." She gave him a sheepish smile. "Maybe even be my date." The boy who'd been picking on Ivan was so flabbergasted he walked away shaking his head.

At home, Ivan began organizing his list of jobs when his father walked into his work areas. "Going to have to get you a phone," he said laying a message on the boy's cutting table. "Purple will do?" his father asked, then shook his head. "Guess your mother and I were wrong about your sew thing."

"No problem dad," Ivan said. As his father started to leave, Ivan snagged the dollar bill off the bulletin board he put up. The coming holiday days were going to be hard for his father, without his mother around to fuss over the meal preparations. "I think grandma would want you to remember this."

Looking at the bill, Chris wiped at the moisture starting to form in his eyes. "Yeah, she would."

November 24th

Celebrating Thanksgiving

Sitting at the kitchen table, Chris tried to drum up the enthusiasm for Thanksgiving. It was hard, for his mother had always been a big part of the holidays. Like him, his two sisters and brother were also feeling the loss. His mother had simply been there one day, alive and healthy, and gone the next. No one, not even her doctor had been aware of the heart condition that had been brewing. Looking up at the one-dollar bill currently attached to the refrigerator, Chris could hear his mother say the words written on the bill, "Smile, someone special loves you." Then she'd stare at him with a stern face, but there'd be a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. "Now get moving. Thanksgiving is just around the bend."

Being the youngest of four, he'd already know the loss of one parent, for at the age of ten his dad had been killed in a car accident. Though there had been money from the settlement and the accidental death insurance policy, the loss of their father's income had made making ends meet difficult. Yet his mother had kept a cheerful home and taught each of them, despite their hardship, they needed to give from the heart.

Over the years, no matter how tight their money was, she donated a small amount of funds to charity and saw that someone who was needy in their community was invited to the family meal. To make her children efficient, Thelma saw to it that each one of them knew how tend to their loved ones and cook. Some of Chris's fondest memories were the time he spent in his mother's kitchen. Flipping through the ads, he thought if he didn't get a turkey soon, he'd be letting his mother down.

Setting a cup of coffee by her husband, Jean asked, "Do you want me to go with you to help with the shopping?"

"No," Chris said taking a sip. "I've got this. Just need to get my butt in gear."

With pen and paper, he made his list. Others would be coming, bringing different dishes. Over the years as his sisters and brother had married, their extended family had been included. Food ranged in variety. There was Angelo's lumpia and Carlotta's caramel flan in among the traditional foods like candied yams, homemade cranberry sauce, and fresh baked pumpkin pie. This year his sister Pam would make their mother's cranberry upside down cake. A favorite with the family.

At the store, Chris checked off items on his list. Walking by where the turkeys were stored, one bird caught his eye. The thing was massive compared to the others around it. What surprised him most was the price. It had been marked down to five dollars. Snagging it, he finished his shopping with a spring in his step and headed for checkout.

When it was his turn, the clerk scoffed at the price. "This has to have been miss marked," the man told Chris.

"Miss marked or not, that's the price I'm paying," Chris replied.

"Sorry," the clerk informed him while picking up the weekly ad. "I have to weigh it and change your turkey to the appropriate price."

"I think not," Chris countered

"If it was marked for five," the woman behind him interrupted, "That's the price you have to sell it at."

"Come on," another patron complained. "I'd like to get home before Christmas."

Other people joined in, but Chris held firm. "Call the manager."

When the manager arrived, he didn't even bother looking at the bird. "Sell it to him for the price marked. And get moving. We've got a lot of customers who want to get home." Though the clerk didn't say anything, Chris knew he'd winced at the slight reprimand.

At home, Jean only stared at her husband's prize. "How big is that thing?"

"Thirty-two pounds three ounces."

"Will it fit in our oven?"

"I'll make it fit."

On Thanksgiving morning, Chris rolled out of bed bright and early. Yawning, Jean stretched. "Go back to sleep," her husband ordered.

Tossing off the covers, she rose as well. "You need help getting that monster of yours ready. And I don't mind."

Together they rinsed the bird. With butter, the turkey was given a massage, then seasoned before being placed in a large aluminum pan. After giving the bird a good drink of white wine, it was sealed with foil. It did fit in the oven, but just barely.

As Chris cleaned up, Jean showered for the day, then began her own preparations. Chris's old family home had been sold, the proceeds divided among the four kids, as well as the family mementos. One of the items Jean had loved was Mama's Thelma's rocking chair. When Chris had asked if she could have it, Jean had been delighted the family had agreed. Now she draped one of Thelma's shawls over the back and placed a basket in the seat. The family had stopped exchanging Christmas gifts years ago, choosing to give their mother money to donate to a needy family. Determined to carry on the tradition, the family who hosted Thanksgiving each year was to collect the funds and give it to the family of their choice. In their own neighborhood, Chris and Jean knew of a family who's young mother had died of breast cancer. Setting ten dollars in the basket, Jean went about her business.

Soon family and friends began to arrive. Food was more than plentiful. When the guest of honor was brought to the table, people were awed by its size. As the first slice of tender breast meat was cut, its scent filled the air, making mouths water.

As people ate, memories were shared. Some cried, while others laughed. Little by little money was tossed in the basket. All too soon, dessert was being served. With glasses of soda, wine, water, or cups of coffee, a toast was made in Mama Thelma's honor.

After the meal had been cleared away and leftovers divvied up, people began to depart. That evening, Jean sat in the rocking chair counting what had been donated. When her husband entered the room he asked, "How much?"

"A little over two hundred. Not too shabby. I think the Wiltons' will appreciate it."

"Since I've experienced what it's like to lose a parent at such a young age, I know what the kids are going thought. The mother was so young."

"Thirty-six. Cancer knows no age or ethnic bounds."

"Here," Chris said dropping the special one-dollar bill in the basket.

Adding it to the amount, Jean said, "I'll drop this off tomorrow." Rising, she set the basket on the rocker. Then yawing hugely added, "I think it time we head for bed."

Slipping his arm around his wife, Chris lead her back. In the dark, no one noticed as the rocker began to move. In a voice so soft only someone close by could hear, Thelma added, "I raised them right."

Note: One year my husband did find a 32-pound bird for $5 and brought it home with glee.

DECEMBER

December 6th

A Message of Love

When Johnathan had gotten home on the Friday after Thanksgiving, he'd found a gift card in his mailbox with an anonymous note that read from a caring neighbor. Attached to it was a one-dollar bill that said; Smile; someone special loves you. The gesture had been nice but unnecessary. Though it was difficult, the now family of four were getting by. What was hard was they were still grieving the loss of the person who had been their center.

Johnathan had met his Lorretta in high school. They had married in June right after graduation. Many people said that kind of love would never last, but it not only had lasted, it had also flourished. Following his father into the sanitation business, Johnathan made a decent wage as a garbage collector. Lorretta enjoyed being a waitress until the girls started coming along. When their third daughter was born, Lorretta was satisfied to be a stay at home mom.

Then tragedy struck. One day Lorretta noticed a lump in her breast. Not thinking anything of it, she put off going to the doctor. When Johnathan started nagging her, she gave in and made an appointment. The biopsy came back as cancerous, thus starting the long journey of dealing with the dreaded disease.

At the being of last year, Lorretta took a turn for the worse and they nearly lost her back in June. Then she seemed to improve. The family was feeling hopeful for a recovery. During Christmas, she was cheerful, and alert. The only thing out of the ordinary was Lorretta had said very little about her last few doctor appointments. With Johnathan working, he thought nothing of it, since Barbie was taking her anyway.

On Christmas day Lorretta was her old self. It was the day after that she began to shut down. By the third of January, he and the girls were in the hospital, waiting for Lorretta to take her last breath. If Johnathan had had it his way, he'd died right along with his wife, but he had their three girls to think of. Sasha 16, Joan 14 and Nichole 12. What had been a God sent was Barbie. She'd been with the family through thick and thin over the last few years.

The women had known each other since elementary school. In Barbie's case, she'd married a worthless man after graduating college, who had abused her. It had been Lorretta who'd pulled her friend out of the nightmare. Though she'd had no children of her own, Barbie had worked hard to get back on her feet, both financially as well as emotionally. Now she was a stabilizing force for this family as they struggled through their grief.

On more than one occasion Johnathan would come home to find Barbie in the kitchen fixing an evening meal, or spending time with his girls filling the void Lorretta had left. Tonight, he walked into the kitchen full of the scent from Barbie's cooking and baking. His girls would be scattered about. Sasha active in high school, with Joan's nose buried in a book in her room, and Nichole down the street spending time with one of her friends. But all three would be home for dinner. As he set his lunch box on the counter, Johnathan spotted the black forest cake, his favorite, heaped with cherries on top. It brought a tear to his eye.

"Happy birthday," Barbie said, greeting him with a warm smile.

"You remember those little touches."

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Crazy. Had a lady chop up a couch and tried to put as much as she could in the dumpster. Then she left what she couldn't scatter around it."

"Oh my," Barbie laughed.

"People," he said shaking his head. It felt so good to have someone to come home to and share the day with. Then it dawned on him. Was he being fair to Barbie? She should be living her own life, not tending to him and his girls.

"Barbie," Johnathan asked cautiously. "Why are you still here?"

"Because you all still need me." Her heart started to pound. Back in her mind Barbie knew this day might come.

"I can't say how much we appreciated all you've done. All you still are doing. When Nichole started her ... Well, you know what I mean. You came over and explained things to her and got what she needed." He still felt embarrassed thinking about how to explain a woman's menstrual cycle to a young girl. Even if they covered stuff like that in school, it was an awkward subject for him.

"I didn't mind."

They stood there looking at each other. Then Barbie cleared her throat. "Back in November," she said as casually as possible, "Lorretta gave me a letter for you. Said I was to give it to you when the time was right. She said I'd know," Barbie continued while moving to her purse. "I never opened it, but I think I have an idea of what's it about. After you read it if you don't want me to come over anymore, I'll understand. But I hope you'll still let me be friends with the girls." Holding out the letter, Barbie waited. After Johnathan had taken it, she added. "I'll just finish up the lasagna I'm putting together for dinner." Quickly she moved off to give Johnathan some space.

Staring at the envelope, Johnathan recognized his dead wife's handwriting. A mixture of feelings ran through him. Taking it into the living room, he sat, the sounds of Barbie in the kitchen were blocked out by the emotions stirring inside him. As his hands trembled, Johnathan opened the letter.

Johnathan; If you are reading this, I have moved on. The years we've had together and the three beautiful daughters we made are so precious to me. Please my love, do not spend the rest of your life grieving for me. I am at peace now. What I hope and pray for is that you, Sasha, Joan and Nichole will live your lives and once more find joy.

If you find someone, please take hold of that the love being offered, for it is so precious and should not be wasted. Know I will watch over all of you until we meet in heaven.

All my love, Lorretta.

Sitting back, he wiped the tears from his eyes. It was so like his wife to even from heaven care for her family. Turning, he wondered if she had nudged Barbie in his direction. Getting up, Johnathan stepped into the kitchen in time to see Barbie slide tonight's dinner in the oven.

"You said you thought you knew what was in the letter?" he asked softly.

"Lorretta asked me to watch over you and the girls. That's all I meant to do. But somewhere along the way, I started to have feelings for the four of you."

Her remarks didn't surprise him, and yet he still felt a loyalty to his wife. As was his habit, his thumb brushed over his wedding band. "I can't say what I feel, but have feelings for you as well. Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"I'd like that."

Later that night as Johnathan got ready for bed, his thumb once more brushed his wedding band. On a shelf in the room he'd shared with his wife was a wooden box. In it were things he'd given her. The first pair of earrings while in high school, a simple gold bracelet on the night of their prom and gold heart pendant on a chain for her twenty-first birthday. Each was a gift he'd planned to give their girls when they graduated high school, so they'd have some part of their mother with them. Sliding his ring off, he set it next to his wife's wedding rings. "Thank you my love," Johnathan murmured as he closed the box.

The following day he and Barbie stood in the kitchen, clearing up the remains of dinner, while his girls were scattered around the house doing their own thing. Having Barbie there seemed so natural, like she'd belonged in the house.

"You seem distracted," she said.

"With Christmas is just around the corner, it's time we start thinking about putting the tree up and decorating the house. Lorretta had her way of doing things. I know it will be different this year. Maybe even hard, but I want to celebrate, if nothing else for the sake of the girls. I was hoping you'd have some ideas on the matter. Maybe even add a few touches of your own."

Barbie just smiled.

"I got another dilemma. Some of my neighbors were trying to be kind, so they gave me this gift card that I don't want or need. I just don't know what to do with it."

"What kind of gift card?" Barbie asked.

"It's a Visa gift card."..

"Can I have it?" Barbie asked without thinking. When first surprise, then disappointment crossed Johnathan's face, she realized he misunderstood her intent. "Not for me, but for the women's shelter I work at. We need so many things at this time of year for some of the women who are abused like I was. The money would be a big help."

It was so like Barbie to think of others, Johnathan felt a bit embarrassed by his initial reaction. Going to his room, he got the gift card, then on impulse grabbed the one-dollar bill. After he'd handed her the credit card, he then slipped the bill in her hand.

"I have just one question for you," he stated.

"And what would that be?"

"Stay the night."

Smiling, Barbie answered, "I'd love to."

December 9th

Stepping into Someone's Shoes

The engagement ring on Barbie's finger was still such a shock, as was the one-dollar bill in her pocket, which had written across the front, Smile; someone special loves you. The words couldn't have had a truer meaning. Looking around the now empty bedroom, Barbie couldn't believe she was planning a spring wedding to the husband of her deceased best friend. Life sure could take some funny twists and turns.

Lorretta and Barbie had met in the third grade. After graduation from high school, they had traveled different paths, but had remained close friends. All Lorretta had ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. Marrying her high school sweetheart she had done just that. As for Barbie, she had gone onto college, earning a degree in human development. Shortly after graduation she'd met and married a man who turned out to be an abuser. It was Lorretta who convinced Barbie to leave the abusive relationship and get professional help.

Though she'd never remarried and rarely dated, with the help of her friend, Barbie healed and life went on. Then tragedy struck when Lorretta was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. To pay back the kindness given to her, Barbie was there for her friend over the years, helping with whatever needed to be done. Then sadly, right after the first of the year, Lorretta took a turn for the worse and died.

After that, Barbie had stayed on to looked after Johnathan and his three daughters. Already she was in love with the girls, and somewhere along the way had gone from being just a good friend to falling in love with her friend's husband.

"You ready?" Johnathan asked.

"More than you'll ever know," Barbie answered.

Before taking this next step, Johnathan had talked to his girls. They had been excited to have Barbie come and live with them. They even approved of their father remarrying. Yet things quickly changed, as Barbie settled in and started taking on the role of stepmother. If she had to say what the trouble was, it was as if a door was closing, locking Lorretta on one side and her on the other.

Knowing the two younger girls took Sasha's lead, Barbie decided to work with her first. One night she invited Johnathan's oldest to help with dinner preparation. Silently the two scrubbed baking potatoes and seasoned a chicken for roasting. Since the family as a whole preferred vegetables, they worked on other side dishes. To be fanciable, Barbie decided to add stuffed mushrooms, a family favorite, to the menu.

While the two chopped, Barbie asked a question. "Tell me something I didn't know about your mother?"

"Like what?" Sasha asked a little uneasily. "I thought you two were BFF."

Laughing lightly, Barbie replied, "Yes we were best friends forever. But I'm sure there's something I didn't know about her. Tell you what. I'll tell you something that you probably didn't know. Did you know how your dad and mom met?"

"Yeah. At a party."

"Did she ever tell you what happened before the party?"

Intrigued, Sasha shook her head.

"Lorretta was gone head over heels for this guy and wanted so badly for him to notice her. He was very popular. We were invited to this party and she knew he'd be there. It was a casual event, but your mother insisted on dressing up. She wore one of her Sunday best dresses, mile high heels and had me work her hair into this fancy French braid.

"We went to the party with her looking like a fashion queen. She wanted me to dress fancy too, but I didn't. The guy she wanted to impress ran like a scared rabbit. When she found out he'd left the party, she was devastated. Your mom was outside crying when your dad came along.

"I'd heard she was upset and went to find her. That's when I noticed your dad was sitting there with her and the two were laughing."

Smiling at the thought of her parents, Sasha considered as she began to stuff mushroom caps with the mixture they'd made. Then all at once tears flooded her eyes. "Mom," she choked out, then stopped.

Gently Barbie laid a hand over Sasha's. "Can I say something." When Sasha nodded, Barbie continued. "I don't want you girls to ever think I'm replacing your mother. I loved Lorretta and miss her as much as you girls do and as much as your father still does. What I want is to make my own place in this family, while honoring my very dear friend."

"Mom," Sasha began again, "used to read to us the same story every year right before Christmas. It got to be so sappy sometimes, listening to The Night Before Christmas. Last year when she was so sick, she still managed to read it. I just rolled my eyes, not realizing it would be the last time." Eyes drenched, Sasha looked at Barbie. "She won't be here to read it."

Taking the child in her arms, Barbie asked softly. "How can we carry on that tradition?"

"Would you read it to us this year."

"I would be honored." Then stepping back, reached in her pocket for the special one-dollar bill. "I think you need this right now," Barbie said.

"Smile, someone special loves you." Sasha read aloud, then giggled. "You know," she said to Barbie, "I'm lucky. It's not every day a girl has two special moms."

They heard the front door open and watched Johnathon enter the room. When he shot the two of them a questioning look, Barbie responded lightly, "We're remembering Lorretta."

"And the boy she was crazy about before you," Sasha piped in.

December 16th

A Special Christmas Project

The year hadn't been easy for Sasha. Accepting the loss of her mother at the start of the year had been so hard. Thankfully for the family, Barbie had been there. She'd known this woman all her life, as Barbie had been her mother's best friend. Soon she would become her stepmom. Yet Barbie wasn't trying to take her mother's place. To remind Sasha her mother was still part of her life, Barbie had given her a dollar bill that said, Smile, someone special loves you and Sasha felt lucky to be loved by two exceptional women.

Knowing love and kindness was meant to be passed on, Sasha decided to find a special Christmas project. There were lots of organizations to get involved with. At this time of year, there were groups collecting food, warm clothes, and toys for the needy. Any one of those would be a worthy cause, but she wanted something more personal.

The old saying of being careful about what you ask for came into play. On her way home from school Monday afternoon, she watched old Mrs. Haggerty trying to rake leaves in her front yard. The woman had to be in her mid-seventies. Like Sasha's mother, Mr. Haggerty had passed away earlier in the year. The couple had never had children, so that meant Mrs. Haggerty might be living alone. The house was a bit run down, and the front yard slightly overgrown. It made Sasha wonder how the old woman was doing.

Stopping, Sasha greeted her. When Mrs. Haggerty looked at Sasha, there was confusion and frustration on her face. "Are you alright?" Sasha asked.

"Just tired deary. There were so many leaves this year. I just didn't get to them.," the old woman replied as she went back to work. Then looking back at the house, she sighed before muttering, "So much to do." And as if Sasha hadn't been standing there, wandered off.

At school the next day Sasha expressed her concern to Bruce. The two had been going steady since the school year began. In Sasha's opinion, he was smart and had a caring nature. A senior, his plans after graduation was to go to the local junior college for an associate's degree, then follow his father into the real-estate business. Already Bruce had been working in the office, getting first hand experience.

"Why don't we stop by on our way home from school? Maybe she just needs some help," Bruce suggested.

Knocking at old woman's front door, the couple waited. When Mrs. Haggerty opened it, she seemed more distressed than the day before. Looking over the woman's shoulder, Sasha could see the room beyond was in disarray. "Are you alright?" Sasha asked with concern.

"Oh, Sasha." This time Mrs. Haggerty wrung her hands. "I'm so confused."

"Could you tell us why?" Bruce asked.

"Come in," she invited, then walked away.

When the couple followed, Mrs. Haggerty acted like they weren't there by going back to packing the box currently sitting on a coffee table. Eagerly her two small terriers sniffed around the young people's feet. Bending down, Sasha picked up Roxie as she barked for attention. Scanning the room, the couple saw boxes were partially packed, while other items were strewn about.

"Mrs. Haggerty," Bruce called out gently. "Are you moving?"

"Yes," she replied, then changed her mind. "No. I'm not sure. A few weeks ago a man offered to buy my house. I thought it was a good idea at the time. A friend of mine told me of a mobile home for sale in a trailer parker for senior citizens. I went down to look at it, and found it perfect for me and my babies." She gave her dogs an indulgent smile. In response, Petie barked. "I've been trying to deal with the sale at the mobile home park, but all the paperwork is so confusing. I contacted the man who wanted my house, and he's been getting pushy. He wanted me to sign papers to sell the house to him right away and move. None of what he's telling me about the process is making any sense. Bernie always took care of stuff like that.

"And how can I move so fast. There's only me and I can't make up my mind what to keep and what to get rid of," she wailed like a lost child.

"Did you settle on a price?" Bruce asked.

"No. The man said that he'd have to talk to his partner, but I have to sign the papers first. If I don't do it soon, someone is going to buy the mobile home. I have some money in savings, but don't know if I should put a deposit down before or after I sell the house. I'm so confused." As if in sympathy both dogs began to whimper.

"Sasha, can you make Mrs. Haggerty some tea?" Bruce suggested. Then turning to the old woman, asked, "Can I look at the papers the man left you?"

Still in a daze, Mrs. Haggerty led the young people into the kitchen. Here was the same disarray. Some things had been taken out of cupboards and stacked on the counters. Others were in boxes as if ready for transport, but quite probably would end up broken before they got to their destination. As Bruce settled in a chair, Sasha routed around for tea. She found a box sitting inside a saucepan. Setting a kettle of water on the stove, she considered.

The Haggertys had been a fixture in the neighborhood for as long as Sasha could remember. The house had to be filled with a lifetime of memories and belongings. If Mrs. Haggerty moved into a smaller place, she'd need someone to help her sort things out. As water boiled, Sasha watched Bruce begin to put some type of order to the papers spread all over the kitchen table. He studied them for several minutes, before pulling out his cell phone to call his father.

Copying Bruce, she too pulled out her cell phone to call her stepmother. After explaining what was going on, Sasha was glad to hear Barbie would be over to help.

The paperwork Mrs. Haggerty had was legal, but had her at the mercy of the buyers. Instead, Bruce's father offered his services to help her get the best price for her house. Since the mobile home was available to move into now, they encouraged Mrs. Haggerty to do so.

Immediately Sasha and her family were joined by Bruce's and they helped the old woman sort through rooms and pack things down. Though it really was the wrong time of year, they quickly organized a Christmas Garage Sale. To draw a crowd, they arranged for a Santa to be at the house.

By Sunday evening Mrs. Haggerty was in her new home, and her place had been mostly cleared out. The few things left would be hauled away to be donated after the holidays. If luck would have it, the house would be sold by the first of the year and she'd have a nice little nest egg to live on for quite some time.

Both Sasha and Bruce once more were sitting at Mrs. Haggerty's kitchen table, only this time it was she who served tea. "I can't thank you enough," the old woman cried. "If you hadn't come along, those men would have gotten my house for next to nothing."

"Next time you need help," Sasha replied, "Ask for it. My stepmom gave me this to me,' she added, "I think you should have it as a reminder you're not alone in this world." Gently she tucked the one-dollar bill into Mrs. Haggerty's hand.

Taking the money, she read the words. "Yes," Mrs. Haggerty replied. "I now know how much people do love me." Patting the child's hand, she added, "Thank you for the reminder."

December 23rd

Community Soup Pot

Sitting in her new living room, Dorothy Haggerty felt like she'd been on a roller coaster for most of the year. The dollar bill sitting on her coffee table that read Smile; someone special loves you, right now felt like the only stabling force in her life.

In the beginning of the year, her beloved husband had passed away from a long illness. They had married late in life and though the couple had tried for a child, it was not meant to be. So, for thirty years it had been just her and Bernie. His death had put a big hole in her life.

Then in late November, a friend had told her of a mobile home for sale in the senior trailer park. The idea of moving to a smaller place and living in a community with people her own age had been very appealing. When she tried to sale her home, she became prey to some thieves. Thankfully two young people stopped by one day, and as Dorothy talked, they realized what was happening. Now the house was in the hands of a reputable real estate agent who'd see she got the value of her house.

Then the two families were so kind and helpful and by the end of the week, Dorothy was in her new home. Yet here she sat, not quite alone two days before Christmas. She had her two small mixed terriers, Petie and Roxie, but right now she craved human company.

Deciding to explore her new surroundings, Dorothy put her two dogs on leashes and took a walk. Near the front of the park was a community center. Going inside the building, she found a lone man sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. Off to one side was a bulletin board with the large faded word _ACTIVITIES_ pinned above it. Only there was nothing underneath.

"Did you have a Christmas Party here earlier?" she asked the stranger.

The man snorted. "No," and went back to his paper.

"I see there's nothing planned here," Dorothy asked, gesturing toward the board.

"Never is," he replied.

Walking over to him, she started to rein in her curious dogs, but the man reached out a hand to pet them.

As the man and dog got acquainted, he introduced herself. "I'm Dorothy."

"Luther," the man replied. "This is a great room that no one ever seems to use. As for getting together, no one seems to care to plan anything."

Looking around, she saw an open space with tables and chairs, a comfortable sitting area, and a full-size kitchen. "Are a lot of people going to visit family and friends on Christmas Day?" Dorothy asked.

Thinking, Luther considered. "I'm not going anywhere. My kids and I had our Christmas a few days ago. I know of at least three others who will be having a lone dinner that day. I'm fine with that, but Milla Burger has a real hard time with being alone on Christmas Day. Come to think of it there are at least a dozen people who will be by themselves."

"Why don't we have a little get together?" Dorothy suggested.

Turning his attention back to the paper, Luther replied, "Because no one will come."

Once back home Dorothy considered. Picking up the phone, she called Sasha and asked for a favor. "Sure Mrs. Haggerty." Within the hour the young woman arrived with the fliers Dorothy had requested and an odd expression on her face.

"What is Stone Soup?" Sasha asked.

"The recipe comes from a book I read a long time ago. It's quite good, but the recipe comes out different each time it's made," she explained, then winked. When offering to pay the youngster for the fliers, Sasha brushed it off, asking only for a chance to sample the soup once it was done. "Come by the day after Christmas," Dorothy said. "I'll see there's a bowl for you."

The next day being Christmas Eve, Dorothy was up bright and early. Taking a walk, she left a flier on everyone's steps. The invitation read,

Hello; I just moved to the park.

Tomorrow at noon I will be cooking up a pot of stone soup in the

Community Center.

Stones are so bland, so I will be adding some broth.

If you'd like to make the soup tasty, bring something to add.

Dorothy

During the day she made a trip to the store to buy what she'd need for a party. Later that night she went out and found three large rocks and scrubbed them clean. She had no intention of adding them to her stewing pot, but she'd use them as decorations. Since her husband loved to cook, Dorothy dug out the large pot she hadn't been able to part with. Now all she could do was wait and see if people would be curious enough to come.

In the morning, she baked a fresh batch of brownies and hoped for the best. By noon, Dorothy was standing by the stove in the community center. She'd had bowls, spoons and the other items already set out. Sadly by 12:15, no one had arrived. Discouraged, she started to turn off the burner when the door opened.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice called out. "I bought some carrots to go into the stone soup and made some garlic bread. My name is Lucy. Are there really stones in your cooking pot?"

With a laugh, Dorothy pointed to the stones on the counter. Accepting the carrots, the two women pealed, then chopped. They had no sooner gone into the pot when another person joined them, this time offering potatoes. Within the hour, six more people from the park had come out of their homes offering other items to go into the pot. A bag of mixed vegetables, two cans of beans, and some barley. Like Dorothy and Lucy, they too had brought items to share. Even Luther had come out of curiosity. For his contribution, he'd browned hamburger and had added cheese and crackers to the other items being served.

When the soup was done, all sat down to enjoy the community meals. Spirits were brightened and friendships made or renewed. Several people made the suggestion that they should get together more often. Later as Dorothy whipped down the counter, she considered the request. Deciding that someone had to get the ball rolling, she put up a notice on the bulletin board inviting people to attend a meeting this Friday. Then she tacked the special bill up with another note. If you need this or know someone who does, please take. Turning off the light, she left, leaving the bill to silently wait to server.

December 28th

The Committee

In a senior living trailer park, five people sat around a table planning activities for the residents who lived in this small community. Nothing had been planned for years, making it hard to once again get the ball rolling. Like an extra set of ears, a special dollar bill that had written across it, Smile; someone special loves you, was tacked to the bulletin board.

"No one will come," Larry stated as the first suggestion of activities were brought forth.

"Like no one came to our Stone Soup dinner on Christmas Day," Dorothy challenged back. She had sent out a personal invitation to all in the park by leaving a flier at each home. "Then who bought all the ingredients we ended up adding into the soup?"

"That was so clever of you," Shelly giggled, for she could still taste the fragrant soup, with its carrots, potatoes and other ingredients.

"People were lonely and were just curious enough to come out," Oscar commented. "I know what we had was a lot more appealing than the TV dinner I had planned. But I agree with Larry. A once a month thing. People aren't going to commit."

"Why don't we do a survey. Find out what people want. We can pass out a short flier and see what people think," Dorothy suggested.

"Do you realize how big this place is?" Magna stated. "There's at least fifty homes in the park, maybe more. "

"Who among us has a computer?" Dorothy asked, determined to see this through. When Larry reluctantly raised his hand, Dorothy pressed on. "Let think of some questions. From people's responses, we can plan events."

Shelly spoke up. "I for one would love something like that. There are all kinds of games we could set up. Or just come together to share a meal."

Working together the group came up with a simple questionnaire. Since Shelly wanted this, she happily paid for the printing. Each took a stack and passed them out. Setting up a box in the club house, the group waited. By Sunday they were surprised at how many had responded. Meeting again on Monday the community began to sort out the papers.

"Here's a good one," Magna laughed. "We can run a dating service."

"No thank you," Shelly said, wrinkling her nose. "I've been married twice. My first husband I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, the second I buried. I sure as heck don't want a third."

"Who said you have to marry them," Oscar shot back.

"Someone has suggested a monthly Bunco or Bingo game," Magna responded. "That might be fun."

"Another," Dorothy interjected so they wouldn't get off track, "wants us to celebrate the holidays each month. News Years Day is just in two days."

"Not enough time," Larry argued.

"My Stone Soup only took an invitation. Why are you such a naysayer?"

"Because he doesn't want a bunch of people hanging out in what Larry's come to consider his private space," Magna challenged with a glint in her eyes.

"Not true," Larry responded with some indignation. "In fact, to prove my point, I'll volunteer to organize this nonsense of celebrating New Year's Day."

"Done," the other four shouted.

In response, Larry's eyes went wide at what he'd just gotten saddled with.

Leaning over, Shelly patted his arm. "We'll all help out."

Determined to make this work, they began to make a chart, set forth ideas for future events, and other items needed. Knowing whatever was planned, a cleanup committee had to be part of every event, that too was added.

The response to getting together on New Year's Day was well received by the community. As the room was made ready, someone realized they didn't have enough ice. Shelly volunteered to make a run to the store. "Here,' Larry said plucking the dollar bill off the wall. "Apparently no one is claiming this. Why don't you use it?" At the store Shelly bought what was needed, passing the dollar bill on.

With the rush of the holiday crowd, the clerk didn't see the odd bill. As money was gathered from registers, it was once more passed on. In the store's office, the manager spotted the bill in the excess cash.

Battered, wrinkled and a bit frayed, the bill was intact. "Hello," he said softly. "I didn't expect to see you back. Looks like you've had quite an adventure. Why don't I give you rest?' Since he was alone, the manager settled at his desk. Taking a fresh dollar bill out of his wallet, he took a red pen and once more wrote the words Smile; someone special loves you on it.

Later when someone called for change, he made sure the new bill was with the amount of money being exchanged today. As for the other, he gave it a place of honor by framing it and placing it on the wall at home.

As with many things in life, these stories have come to an end. I hope you enjoyed the journey of the one-dollar bill.

