Chicken Soup for Every Mom's Soul Read Online Free PDF

escalate.
    “BUT MOM, I TOLD HIM TO GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”
    “BUT MOM, SHE COMES IN MY ROOM SOMETIMES WHEN I TELL HER NOT TO. . . .”
    I asked my children to work it out between themselves and decided to find a quiet room for a few moments.
    Within a minute they burst in.
    “Mom, she won’t share her Disney characters even though she’s not playing with them.”
    “That’s because you didn’t share your markers with me the last time I asked you.”
    “Well, you shouldn’t have lost your markers. It’s your own fault if you didn’t take care of them, right, Mom?”
    “Mom?”
    “Mom?”
    I gathered my children and whispered, “Jake and Tara, let’s go hug each other quietly for a few moments. I don’t feel very well. I’m also feeling sad right now. I love you both so much, and I would love a very special hug from each of you.”
    Their response was quite different than when I had shouted at them to quiet down. With rather serious looks on their faces, they asked, “But why are you sad, Mom?”
    “I don’t really know,” I replied. “I just know I need some quiet time and some extra special love from both of you right now.”
    “Okay, Mommy,” they whispered. They each took one of my hands, led me to my bed, fluffed up my pillows and told me to lie down. With a big hug and some “I love you’s,” they said, “Okay, Mommy, you just relax here a few minutes.” As they walked away, I heard a lot of excited, conspiratorial whispers.
    A few minutes later they were back. Jake brought me a glass of water. Tara brought me my favorite flannel pajamas. I smiled at both of them, took a drink of the water and put my pajamas on. They turned the lights down low, told me to relax on my bed, and started to give me a back scratch. I thought about nothing and simply enjoyed the feel of their four little hands.
    Next, they massaged me—first my back, then my legs and arms. My body was sinking into the bed, and I felt totally at peace. They slowly massaged my feet and neck. I felt truly pampered. They then rubbed my temples with their thumbs and massaged my forehead. All the anxiety of the day dissipated. The messy house and to-do lists became inconsequential.
    “You are the most special mom in the world,” Tara whispered as she worked.
    “This is what you do for us every night, Mommy. Tonight’s your turn,” Jake said affectionately.
    Were those really the same children I had spent the day with?
    Just when I thought my special treatment was over, they took turns brushing my hair. I was in heaven. I relished every moment and smiled to myself, thinking, Who really needs a spotless house and folded laundry?
    Tara and Jake whispered to each other, ran into the bathroom, returned with my favorite lotion and slowly massaged my feet again as the peach-scented aroma filled the room.
    What did I do to deserve this? I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. As I thought it over, I realized that rather than scream for quiet or holler that I expected better behavior, I had simply taken a moment to share my need with my children. I had asked for some special nurturing, and thankfully, they were loving enough to give it.
    Marian Gormley

The Gravy Boat Rescue
    Not long ago my wife and I had a dinner party for some good friends. To add a touch of elegance to the evening I brought out the good stuff—my white Royal Crown Derby china with the fine gold and blue border. When we were seated, one of the guests noticed the beat-up gravy boat I always use. “Is it an heirloom?” she asked tactfully.
    I admit the piece is conspicuous; it is very old and it matches nothing else. Worst of all, it is scarred by a V-shaped notch in the lip. But that little gravy boat is much more than an heirloom to me—it is the one thing in this world I will never part with.
    Our history together began over fifty years ago when I was seven years old and we lived across the street from the river in New Richmond, Ohio. In anticipation of high