I Love Me Now, but I Didn’t for A While, Friends*

djbeaulieu, 10-07-86,rev.10-11-07, 01-14-11

She sighed; a tear fell sorrowfully and quietly into the water at her feet.  “Think of a special friend or something happy,” she thought to herself.  Dad always told her to think happy thoughts when she gets sad.   Somehow, dad always knew how you felt.   He really knew. 

            Elizabeth thought of her last birthday party when she had all her friends there and they played and played.   It was the best!  She felt so very special, She was seven and in second grade.   She had worn her new blue satin dress with the white and pink spring flowers embroidered on it.  Her new Shawn Johnson hair style accented her graceful movements beautifully for such a young girl.   Elizabeth often imagined that she would be great gymnast someday – just like Shawn Johnson was.  Another silent tear trickled into the water.   Thinking good thoughts helped, but didn’t always make the sadness go away.    

            Sometimes it was hard to believe in the happiness of your thoughts and others.  Sometime, just sometimes, she also found it hard to believe in herself. Dad always told her, “Trust in God Elizabeth.  Talk to Jesus, be His friend and ask Him to help you and He will help you to believe in yourself again.”  Elizabeth became embarrassed when she remembered where she was.   Her crutches were stuck in the lake’s sandy bottom like two lead boat anchors.   She felt like a monkey in a three ring circus, as though everyone was watching her struggle.

            She looked out beyond the blue and white floats, that marked off the lake’s swimming area and watched some of the older kids paddling canoes and the peddle boats.   She raised her right arm to her right eye and wiped away a few more tears.   “Be brave, Elizabeth thought, be brave.    Just trust God, talk to Jesus, and think happy!”  Suddenly, she became aware of someone tapping her shoulder and from behind she heard:

            “Hi, My name is Dorothy, What is yours?”

            “Elizabeth,” she replied.

            “That’s a neat name! It’s almost like my middle name, Liz.   How come you are on crutches? Did you break your legs?”

            “Kind-a.   I was in an accident about seven months ago and my back got broken.   I won’t be able to walk for a long time.  May be never, some doctors say.”

            “That’s sad,” Dorothy said in a low voice.   “But, don’t worry.   My friend in “the light” will help you, just like He helped my cousin.  She got run-over by a car.   They even say she died and everything.  I don’t understand that part, though.” 

            “Who is your friend?  The one who helped your cousin, I mean.”

            “The ‘Spirit of the light,’ of course!  We all prayed every night for her and after a long time, 10 months I think, she was allowed to come home.   It did not take her much longer to start walking. It was a miracle – no doubt.”

            Elizabeth’s eyes were gleaming, her smile beaming, and her face glowing.  She felt strong. 

“Do you think I’ll get better Dorothy?”

            “Why not?   My cousin did and she had a broken back too.   Would you like to play with me?”

            “But, Dorothy, I can’t swim!”

            “Me neither,” said Dorothy, sheepishly.   “But it doesn’t matter.   If we stay close to shore we can pull ourselves along the bottom with our hands.   You can move your arms and hands can’t you?”

            “Yes I can, I can even get down by hold on to my crutches,” Elizabeth pronounced proudly.    

            “Great, let’s go!”

            The crutches stood up, all alone, like two small flag poles, but Elizabeth didn’t care.   They played together for hours before they tired.   They sat next to each other at the water’s edge, trying to rest and talk at the same time.   It would soon be time for supper and they would have to return to their tent sites for the night.   As they talked, Dorothy asked:

            “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Elizabeth, in a weak and choked voice, managed to respond.   “I have a brother Mike, who is 14,” then several tears began to fall down Elizabeth’s cheeks, “I

use to have a brother named John.   He died in the car accident that crippled me.   He was taking me to gymnastics’ practice.   I always loved it when he took me.   He would talk and joke around with me.  He tried to get out of the way, but the man just kept coming at us.  I couldn’t move, time was slow and all was quiet until the front of the car exploded, and slid into the pole.  They said the man was drunk.”

            Dorothy’s head lowered to her knees, and as she stared into the water she mumbled, “I’m sorry, Elizabeth!” Then she turned and gave Elizabeth a hug.   One that says I’m your friend! I’ll help, if I can!

            “It’s OK, Dorothy.  I guess.  My parents always tell me not to worry.   They tell me John’s journey has just shifted places and that God has him back now.   We had him for a while and it was great.   God let John give us a thousand good memories to enjoy before he left and I like that thought.”

            For a long time there was silence.  Dorothy was afraid of death and dying -- very afraid.  She was wishing that she had stayed at the tent with the “Chippies” her brothers had caught.   Elizabeth recognized the silence.   She had experienced it many times since the accident, and she knew what to do.

            “Don’t feel bad or afraid Dorothy.   Just do like I do, like my dad taught me, – think of something good or cool or new.”

            “Like what?” Dorothy questioned.

            “Anything happy, fun, or cool,” Elizabeth replied.

            “You mean like the fun we were having a little while ago?”

            “Sure! That was great fun.  I’m going to use that one too.   Making friend is always neat.   Especially meeting you and becoming your friend.”

            “Tomorrow,” Dorothy, exclaimed, “we can go to the play ground.   I’ll push you on the tire swing; bounce you on the rattling chain bridge and bob you up and down on the teeter-totter.   There is a lot we can do if we help each other.”

            Elizabeth was as happy as ever.   Her voice was teaming with excitement as she told her mom, dad and brother about her afternoon with Dorothy.   After they ate Elizabeth told the “fam” what she and Dorothy wanted to do tomorrow at the play ground.   Her mom was not too happy about it.  She was afraid Elizabeth would get hurt again.   However, her dad and brother thought it was a good idea.   Dad said, “I think may be its time you start working back into being you.  I think it will be good for you.”

            Dad and mom had a talk, as they often did, and mom agreed to it, but she wanted to come so she could be near if something went wrong.   That, actually made me feel good. 

            Elizabeth sat before the dancing flames of the campfire and day-dreamed about tomorrow and being with Dorothy.   She was happy, truly happy.  Her thoughts were peaceful and she began to know what Dorothy meant about “the light.”  It was that Christ was “the light of the world.”   She knew He had been listening because the day had been too perfect.   She felt strong inside.   She felt like she could be brave again and help others to be brave.   She knew in her spirit that she would be a gymnast again, because she believed in herself.   Dorothy had taught her about friendship.   She had helped Dorothy with sadness and death.

            The corners of Elizabeth’s mouth began to rise from deep inside her soul it rose and passed through her heart, burst into her brain and brought out a joy she had never felt or heard before.   The LOL was so loud she scared herself.  When she looked around she became embarrassed for the “fam” had noticed and they were smiling too.    

            “Group Hug,” screamed Mike!!!

*djbeaulieu, original copyright of10-07-86 with a revision of 10-11-2007.  All right are reserved by the author.  This story cannot be published, in whole or in part, without written permission of the author. This author is Donald J. Beaulieu.  Authors Den does have permission to display this story.