Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mom. Shoot, even Rusty knows that. Don’t you, boy?” Rusty would cock his head and give John a happy smile.
    In the spring, John got an afternoon paper route. He’d come home from school, fold his papers and take off on his bike to deliver them. He always took the same streets, in the same order. Of course, Rusty delivered papers, too.
    One day, for no particular reason, John changed his route. Instead of turning left on a street as he usually did, he turned right. Thump! . . . Crash! . . . A screech of brakes . . . Rusty sailed through the air.
    Someone called us about the accident. I had to pry John from Rusty’s lifeless body so that Dad could bring Rusty home.
    “It’s my fault,” John said over and over. “Rusty thought the car was gonna hit me. He thought it was another game.”
    “The only game Rusty was playing was the game of love,” Dad said. “You both played it well.”
    John sniffled. “Huh?”
    “You were there for Rusty when he needed you. He was there for you when he thought you needed him. That’s the game of love.”
    “I want him back,” John wailed. “My Rusty’s gone!”
    “No, he isn’t,” Dad said, hugging John and me. “Rusty will stay in your memories forever.”
    And he has.
    Lou Kassem

©CALVIN AND HOBBES. Distributed by Universal Press Syndicate. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.

“Where’s My Kiss, Then?”
    There once was a little girl named Cindy. Cindy’s father worked six days a week, and often came home tired from the office. Her mother worked equally hard, doing the cleaning, the cooking and the many tasks needed to run a family. Theirs was a good family, living a good life. Only one thing was missing, but Cindy didn’t even realize it.
    One day, when she was nine, she went on her first sleepover. She stayed with her friend Debbie. At bedtime, Debbie’s mother tucked the girls into bed. She kissed them both good night.
    “Love you,” said Debbie’s mother.
    “Love you, too,” murmured Debbie.
    Cindy was so amazed that she couldn’t sleep. No one had ever kissed her good night. No one had ever kissed her at all. No one had ever told her that they loved her. All night long, she lay there, thinking over and over, This is the way it should be.
    When she went home, her parents seemed pleased to see her.
    “Did you have fun at Debbie’s house?” asked her mother.
    “The house felt awfully quiet without you,” said her father.
    Cindy didn’t answer. She ran up to her room. She hated them both. Why had they never kissed her? Why had they never hugged her or told her they loved her? Didn’t they love her?
    She wished she could run away. She wished she could live with Debbie’s mother. Maybe there had been a mistake and these weren’t her real parents. Maybe Debbie’s mother was her real mother.
    That night before bed, she went to her parents.
    “Well, good night then,” she said. Her father looked up from his paper.
    “Good night,” he said.
    Her mother put down her sewing and smiled. “Good night, Cindy.”
    No one made a move. Cindy couldn’t stand it any longer.
    “Why don’t you ever kiss me?” she asked.
    Her mother looked flustered. “Well,” she stammered, “because, I guess . . . because no one ever kissed me when I was little. That’s just the way it was.”
    Cindy cried herself to sleep. For many days she was angry. Finally she decided to run away. She would go to Debbie’s house and live with them. She would never go back to the parents who didn’t love her.
    She packed her backpack and left without a word. But once she got to Debbie’s house, she couldn’t go in. She decided that no one would believe her. No one would let her live with Debbie’s parents. She gave up her plan and walked away.
    Everything felt bleak and hopeless and awful. She would never have a family like Debbie’s. She was stuck forever with the worst, most loveless parents in the world.
    Instead of going home, she went to a park and sat on a