It's the little things that count. For example, take gifts. It's not the big or expensive ones that you remember; it's the little ones. A special gift you just mentined, a memento, a hug. (One I treasure was a gag gift from my parents at Christmas (living in Florida) to me (going to college in chilly St. Louis): a beach in a bag. Sand, seashells, and blue-dyed water. Kept it while the liquid dried out and the seashells became sand. )
And then, there's doing nice things for your neighbor. When I was young, we knew your neighbors. We didn't like all of them, but we knew them. Even as late as the mid-90s, it was common to know at least one or two well enough to invite them into your home. Now, neighborhoods are like ghost towns at night; no one talking, no one visiting. We're all lessened by this practice.
It gets worse when I see news stories like the one above.
According to the story, two girls gave away some cookies to their neighbors, and one of them was "so startled" by "'shadowy figures' outside the house banging on the door" at 10:30 at night, she had to go to the hospital.
Young said the teenagers showed "very poor judgment". "The victory wasn't sweet," Young said. "I'm not gloating about it. I just hope the girls learned a lesson."
Ahh... yeah. The *girls* need to learn a lesson.
Mind you, the sentence imposed was $900 for the woman's medical bills, something the parents of the kids had already offered prior to court. The woman declined, saying the apologies were not sincere, nor in person.
Yeah. Just keep saying, "the kids needed to learn a lesson", and eventually, you'll believe it. In the dark corners of your room, locked behind triple-bolted doors, and hidden away from humanity, you'll believe it.Posted by Ted Stevko at February 5, 2005 09:11 AM | TrackBack