Waiting for Mom

 Waiting for Mom

    Jim had been waiting a long time for his mother to arrive. She would come and pick him up each day after school. Sometimes Jim's mom would be waiting outside the school, at the curb with the motor running, when Jim came out of the school building. Other times she would be a few minutes late, but never more than ten.

    It had now been more than half an hour, and Jim was getting worried. Had his mother gotten into an accident? Did she forget it was a school day? No, Jim thought, after all, she had dropped him off at school that morning.

    Just then, Jim's mother pulled up. As he got in the car and closed the door, Jim's mom explained that she had taken his little sister, Susie to the doctor for an appointment. She said that his sister Susie had panicked when the nurse told her that she needed to get a scheduled vaccination. Jim said, "But mom, Susie doesn't even know what a vaccination is."

    "I know that, honey," Jim's mom said. "It wasn't the word vaccination that freaked her out. It was the sight of the needle!"

    "Well, did she cry?" Jim asked.

    "Yes, she was crying even before the nurse cleaned her arm with rubbing alcohol. She asked me to hug her and talk to her about butterflies until it was over."

    Jim followed up, "Did that work?"

    "Yes. It wasn't easy, though. She squirmed a lot so it was tough for the nurse to get the needle in the area of her arm she was aiming for. But after it was done, the nurse told her that she had done a great job, and that she was brave for doing it."

    "I'm glad everything worked out okay," Jim said. "You know, Mom. You're a great mom."

(c) 2016 Henry Anker

The Play

 The Play

    Our teacher told us that our class was going to put on a play. The play would be performed in the auditorium, a month from now, but we would be rehearsing together in the classroom. Once a week we would practice for an hour after school. Each student in the class would be responsible for practicing his or her own lines at home.

    The play would be a story of how the some Pilgrims came to this country. It would show how they worked hard to make homes for their families. It would also show how some American Indians living nearby helped the Pilgrims survive the long winter, and how they could grow their own food. Because part of the audience for the show would be little kids, the 'realities' of disease, land theft, violence, and warfare during the time period would be left out.

    Our parents would be helping out by making the costumes, and the Art teacher would have her students paint the sets. Little by little, things came together. The student actors were becoming fluent in delivering their lines. The sets began to make the scenes more realistic with backgrounds of forests, cabins, and Native American villages. Students were also taught how to operate the stage lights and the spotlights so the audience could feel like the action was taking place at different times of the day or night, in different places, and long ago.

    the night of the play arrived and all the seats were filled. Some people were even standing in the back. The house lights dimmed and the curtain went up. The first scene showed a group of Pilgrim settlers rowing a small wooden boat to shore. The next showed Pilgrims building their houses as fake snow was sprinkled from above by students on ladders backstage.

    Things continued to go well until one of the actors bumped into a cardboard tree which caused a domino effect of trees falling across the stage. Everyone pitched in to get things back in order and the play continued. The actors remembered almost all of their lines. The sets were changed each time the curtain closed between scenes. The ending of the play brought a standing ovation from the audience, and a curtain call from the cast.

The SmartPhone

 The SmartPhone

    Jennifer had a panicked look on her face. Her eyes were wide, her heart was racing, her breathing quickened, and her head turned left and right, and up and down rapidly. She lifted her backpack off the seat of her desk, checked in all of the pouches, looked under the chair, and all around the floor. She patted her pants pockets and squeezed the fabric of her sweatshirt. All the students in the class had made their way into the hallway upon hearing the dismissal bell. Her teacher, Mr. Johnson, walked over to where Jennifer was standing with a puzzled, worried look on her face.

    “What’s the matter, Jennifer?”

    “Mr. Johnson, I think somebody took my phone!”

    Just then, Jennifer’s friend Ashley entered the room. “Jennifer, what’s wrong? Aren’t you coming?”

    "My phone! I can't find my phone!" Jennifer complained.

    "I have it," Ashley reassured her friend. "Don't you remember that you had asked me to charge it for you while I was in the Computer Lab?"

    "Oh, yeah. Thanks." Jennifer sighed, relieved to see her nearly new phone again. Mr. Johnson went back to his teacher's desk to turn off the LCD projector.

    "Look, I got your phone back up to eighty-seven percent charged," Ashkey said proudly.

    "Thanks," said Jennifer. Her heart and breathing were near normal again, and her voice had calmed, too.

    Jennifer checked to see if she had received any text messages from her friends or her mom, and then tucked her phone carefully into her back pocket, making sure the headphone cord was coming out the top and wasn't tangled. Jennifer and Ashley walked toward the door and said goodbye to Mr. Johnson who waved and smiled and returned to his work. He was not suprised by what had happened. It was a normal occurrence.

Making Pancakes

 Making Pancakes

    As Connie was getting dressed, she could hear Debra doing something down in the kitchen. Oh, no, Connie thought, Debra must be fixing breakfast again. My sister does many things well, but cooking breakfast isn’t one of them. Connie sniffed the air to see if she could tell what her sister was trying to make.

    When Connie got to the kitchen, she discovered that Debra was making pancakes. She was also making a mess! Flour, eggshells, and puddles of milk were all over the counter and on the floor. The flame on the stove was very high, and the pancakes were burning on the skillet.

    Connie didn’t want to hurt Debra’s feelings, so she sat down and tried to eat. Suddenly Connie didn’t feel well. “Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Debra said.

    Connie nodded. She just couldn’t tell Debra that she thought the pancakes were making her sick. “I’m okay,” Connie said weakly. “Maybe you’re coming down with something,” Debra said.

    Connie nodded. She just couldn’t tell Debra that she thought the pancakes were making her sick. “I’m okay,” Connie said weakly. “Maybe I’m still full from dinner last night.”

    “Have some more,” Debra offered.

    “No, thank you, really. One is just enough for me. By the way, did you add any special ingredients to the batter that were not part of the cooking instructions?”

    “Oh, yes, I did. Just a little leftover chopped celery from the fridge and some chili powder. Can you taste that?”

    Connie’s eyes opened wide, she let out a gasp, put her hand over her mouth, and ran to the bathroom as fas as she could.