Storys
Loves Sacrifice
by Kathi Kingma
Going to an affluent high school wasnt easy. I watched with envy as many of the "rich" kids drove their parents sports cars and bragged about where they bought their designer clothes. I knew there was never a chance for me to compete with their wealthy status, but also I knew that it was a near crime if you wore the same outfit twice in the same month.
Coming from a family of five, with a tight budget, allowed us little hope for style. That didnt stop me from badgering my parents that I needed more fashinable clothes. My mother would frown at me. "Do you need them?"
"yes," I would say adamantly. " I need them."
So shopping we would go. My mom waited outside the dressing room while I tried on the nicest clothes we could afford. I can recall several of these "necessity trips." Mom always went without complaining, never trying on anything for herself, though she'd look.
One day, when I was at home, I tried on one of my new outfits and moddled it in front of my parents' full length mirror. As I was deciding which shoes would look best with my outfit my eyes wondered to their closet, which was partially open. What i saw brought tears to my eyes. Three shirts hung on my moms side of the closet. Three shirts which she had worn endlessly and were old and faded. i pulled open the closet farther to see a few work shirts of my dads that he had worn for years. it had been ages since they had bought anything for themselves, though their need was greater than mine.
That moment opened my eyes to the sacrifices my parents had made over the years, sacrifices that showed me their love more powerfully than any words they could have said.
When I was in ninth grade, my big brother Hans, who was a junior in high school, seemed to me to be the epitome of popularity. He was good in sports and dated a lot.Our house was always filled with his cool friends, guys I dreamed would some day think of me as something other than just "Hans's dumb kid sister."
Hans asked Rebecca Knight, the most popular girl in school, to go with him to the junior prom. She accepted. He rented the tux, bought the flowers, and, along with the rest of the popular crowd, hired a limo and made reservations at a fancy restaurant. Then, disaster struck. On the afternoon of the prom Rebecca came down with a terrible strain of flu. Hans was wihtout a date and it was too late to ask another girl.
There were a number of ways Hans could have reacted, including getting angry, feeling sorry for himeself, blaming Rebecca, even choosing to believe that she really wasnt sick and just didnt want to go with him, in which case he would have had to believe that he was a loser. But Hans choose not only to remain positive but to give someone the night of her life. He asked me! His little kid sister! To go with him to his junior prom. Can you imagine my extacy?
Mom and I flew about the house rushing to get me ready. but when the limo pulled up with all his friends, I almost chickened out. What would they think? But Hans just grinned, gave me his arm, and proudly escorted me out to the car like I was the queen of the ball. He didnt warn me not to act like a kid; he didint appologize to the others; he ignored the fact that i was dressed in a simple short-skirted piano-recital dress while all of the other girls were in elegant formals.
I was bedazzeled at the dance. Of course, I spilled punch on my dress. I'm sure Hans bribed every one of his friends to dance atleast one dance with me, because I never sat out once. Some of them even pretended to fight over who got to dance with me. I had the greatest time. And so did Hans. While the guys were dancing with me he was dancing with their dates! The truth is, everyone was wonderful to me the whole night, and I think part of the reason was because Hans chose to be proud of me. It was the dream night of my life, and I think every girl in school fell in love with my brother, who was cool enough, kind enough, and self confident enough to take his little sister to the junior prom.
By: Wayne Rice
As a ninth grader, Dave was the smallest kid is him high school. But at five feet tall and ninety pounds, he was the perfect cannidate for the lightest weight class on the schools wrestling team.
Dave started out as the JV lightweight, but moved up to the varsity position when the boy at the spot moved away.
Unfortunately, Dave's first year was not one for the record books. Of the six varsity matches he wrestled, he was pinned six times.
Dave had a dream of someday being a good enough wrestler to recieve his athlete's letter. An athlete's letter is a cloth emblem with the school's innitials on it, which is awarded to those athletes who demonstrate exceptional performance in their sports. Those who were fortunate enough to recieve a letter proudly wore it on their school letterman jackets.
Whenever Dave shared his dream of "Lettering" in wrestling, most of his teammates and friends just laughed. Those who did offer encourangement to Dave usually said something like, "Well its not weather you win or lose..." or "It's really not important whether you letter or not..." Even so Dave was determined to work hard and keep improving as a wrestler.
Every day after school, Dave was in the weight room trying to build up his strength, or running the stadium bleachers trying to increase his endurance, or in the wrestling room trying to improve his technique.
The one person who continually believed in Dave was his grandmother. Every time she saw him, she reminded him of what could be done through prayer and hard work. She told him to keep focused on his goal. Over and over again, she quoted bible verses to him, like "I can do all things through christ who gives me strength." (philippians 4:13).
The day before the next season began, Dave's grandmother passed away. He was heartbroken. If he ever did reach the goal of someday getting a high school letter, his grandmother would never know.
That season Dave's opponents faced a new person. What they expected was an easy victory. What they got instead was a ferocious battle. Dave won nine of his first ten matches that year.
Midway through the season, Dave's coach called him into his office to inform him that he would be recieveing his high school letter. Dave was extatic. The only thing that could have made him feel beter was to be able to share it with his grandmother. If only she knew!
Just then the coach smiled as he presented Dave with an envolope. The envolope had Daves name on it in his grandmothers handwriting. He opened it and read...
Dear Dave,
I knew you could do it! I set aside $100 to buy you a school jacket to put your letter on. I hope you'll wear it proudly, and remember, "You can do all things through christ who gives you strength!"
congradulations,
Grandma
After Dave finished reading the letter, his coach reached behind him and pulled out a brand new jacket with the school letter attached and Dave's name embroidered on the front. Dave realized then that his grandmother did know after all.
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