You Forgot.

    Nellie called me this afternoon in panic. "The little girl...oh, oh, oh, I can't remember her name...you know, the girl...it's her birthday on the 18th! And I forgot, and you forgot, and we have to send her a package!"
    I wanted to say that I didn't forget anything. I never knew about it in the first place. Come to think of it, I don't even know the girl, although I know exactly who she's talking about. I've never met the girl, or any of her family, but I've been responsible for sending them birthday and Christmas packages for a year or two now. What I wanted to say was that it really wasn't my fault.
    What I actually said was, "What kind of candy do you want me to get?"

Borrowing Trouble

    I may have mentioned that Nellie tends toward pessimism. If there is a possible interpretation of any set of circumstances that involves death, sickness, hospitalization, jail time, etc., Nellie will immediately jump to that conclusion. And no "glass-half-full" talk from me will change her mind.
    There's a lovely Russian lady who used to live nearby and visited Nellie often with her two daughters; sadly, her husband's job moved them all near Washington, D.C. a little over a year ago. Nellie still loves to hear from them, to get Christmas cards and photos of the girls, to send packages of random treasures for birthdays. It had been awhile since Anna had called, and Nellie began to worry.
    "I haven't heard anything from them in so long, and I'm so worried that something has happened!"
    I tried in vain to reassure her. "I'm sure they're just busy--the girls probably have lots of schoolwork and exams, and you said Anna was finishing her nursing studies..."
    Twisting her hands nervously, Nellie shook her head. "I'd give anything for that to be true. But I know it isn't! I keep thinking--maybe they were in a car wreck. I'm sure that's what has happened. And maybe Lauren died, and Anna's been in the hospital, maybe in a coma...or maybe it's her husband. I know he was deployed, and then he came home, but maybe he had to go again and got shot! And what about Katya? She's old enough to drive too--I'll bet she wrecked her car and was killed. Or maybe she got pregnant. She has a boyfriend now, you know. Oh, why won't they call and tell me! If I only knew, then I could bear it. You have to write them a letter and tell them that I've been so worried!"
    She was nearly in tears, and nothing I could say would calm her. It was time for me to go, so I hugged her and promised to write the letter. I prayed that she would hear good new from her friends soon.

    A week or two later, Nellie called me with some request or another. After relaying her need, she said, "Oh, Anna called me yesterday! They're all doing fine, just very busy with the holidays and exams and everything."
    You don't say.