This was first published in a Dear Abby column years ago.
MOM’S STRENGTH, FORGIVENESS STILL INSPIRE DECADES LATER

DEAR ABBY: My dear, late father read the old Baltimore News Post newspaper from cover to cover. He would put me on his lap and read the funnies or something special to keep me current and interested in the news. I have read newspapers ever since — and always your column.

The letter from the woman whose little sister was killed when a young neighbor backed her car out of the driveway brought back many memories.

I believe I knew the family. We were in our early 30s then, with two children of our own. We met the family at church functions. They carried that beautiful child on their shoulders as a trophy — and beautiful she was.

The parents owned a religious bookstore. When news of the tragic accident spread, everyone who knew them showed up at the church service and funeral. I remember the eulogies. That outpouring of love for this precious family was overwhelming.

After the service, there was a profound silence. Then a strong, beautiful singing voice began to fill the church. The song was, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” I looked around and realized the voice was coming from the child’s mother! People around me wanted to join in, but they couldn’t choke back the tears.

I watched in amazement as this mother helped her husband to stand as their children followed. She led the entire church in the procession, never losing her strength or composure. Her voice soared above every other in that huge gathering.

She taught us that God loves us so much he grants supernatural strength when we need it most. Please tell this young woman that her family’s example of strength and forgiveness touched my life and many others for more than 24 years.

– LINDA BRESSLER, TAMPA, FLA.

DEAR LINDA: And I’m sure your letter will touch the hearts of others, as it touched mine.

Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in a orphanage. The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds
at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly. “Why can’t I?” he thought. “Is
there something wrong with me?” he wondered.

There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls. “Why can’t I be like them?” he thought.

One day the little orphan boy who had wanted to fly like a bird ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a park where he saw the
little boy who could not walk or run playing in the sandbox. He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.

“No,” said the little boy who could not walk or run. “But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls.”

“That is very sad.” said the little boy who wanted to fly. “Do you think we could be friends?” he said to the little boy in the
sandbox.

“Sure.” said the little boy.

The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made
them laugh real hard. Then the little boy’s father came with a wheel chair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy’s father and whispered something into his ear. “That would be OK,”
said the man.

The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, “You are my only friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can’t. But there is something that I can do for you.”

The little orphan boy turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back. Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs travel.

Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys’ faces. The little boy’s father began to cry as he watched his beautiful
little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice, “I’M FLYING, DADDY. I’M FLYING!”

Roger Dean Kiser,Sr.

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Flying is a true story. The author, Roger Dean Kiser, was the little orphan boy who carried his friend through the wind.

Jenny was a bright-eyed, pretty five-year-old girl. One day when she and her mother were checking out at the grocery store,Jenny saw a plastic pearl necklace priced at $2.50. How she wanted that necklace, and when she asked her mother if she would buy it for her, her mother said, “Well, it is a pretty necklace, but it costs an awful lot of money. I’ll tell you what. I’ll buy you the necklace, and when we get home we can make up a list of chores that you can do to pay for the necklace. And don’t forget that for your birthday Grandma just might give you a whole dollar bill, too. Okay?”

Jenny agreed, and her mother bought the pearl necklace for her.

Jenny worked on her chores very hard every day, and sure enough, her grandma gave her a brand new dollar bill for her birthday. Soon Jenny had paid off the pearls. How Jenny loved those pearls. She wore them everywhere-to kindergarten, bed and when she went out with her mother to run errands. The only time she didn’t wear them was in the shower-her mother had told her that they would turn her neck green!

Now Jenny had a very loving daddy. When Jenny went to bed, he would get up from his favorite chair every night and read Jenny her favorite story. One night when he finished the story, he said, “Jenny, do you love me?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you,” the little girl said.

“Well, then, give me your pearls.”

“Oh! Daddy, not my pearls!” Jenny said. “But you can have Rosie, my favorite doll. Remember her? You gave her to me last year for my birthday. And you can have her tea party outfit, too. Okay?”

“Oh no, darling, that’s okay.” Her father brushed her cheek with a kiss.

“Good night, little one.”

A week later, her father once again asked Jenny after her story, “Do you love me?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you.”

“Well, then, give me your pearls.”

“Oh, Daddy, not my pearls! But you can have Ribbons, my toy horse. Do you remember her? She’s my favorite. Her hair is so soft, and you can play with it and braid it and everything. You can have Ribbons if you want her, Daddy,” the little girl said to her father.

“No, that’s okay,” her father said and brushed her cheek again with a kiss.

“God bless you, little one. Sweet dreams.”

Several days later, when Jenny’s father came in to read her a story, Jenny was sitting on her bed and her lip was trembling. “Here, Daddy,” she said, and held out her hand. She opened it and her beloved pearl necklace was inside. She let it slip into her father’s hand.

With one hand her father held the plastic pearls and with the other he pulled out of his pocket a blue velvet box. Inside of the box were real, genuine, beautiful pearls. He had had them all along. He was waiting for Jenny to give up the cheap stuff so he could give her the real thing. So it is with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in out lives so he can give us beautiful treasure. Isn’t God good?