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"MICHAEL" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah Ailman
Michael Morales was a shy kid who most people said
lived “on the wrong side of the tracks.” He liked playing stick ball with his
friend in front of the small bungalow. His father was a junior executive at a
large advertising agency in midtown Manhattan, and his mother stayed home to
take care of him and his three-year-old sister, Anna. At the local elementary school
most of the kids were like Michael. They came from hardworking families, but
their clothes were hand-me-downs. There were no cell phones and they didn’t
have the latest video games at home. But they had close knit families; families
that ate dinner together every night and played board games instead of watching
T.V. But all that was about to change. George Morales sat at his desk on
the fifteenth floor of Galore advertising agency. His office was cramped and
windowless. He was hunched over his desk perspiration dripping down his face
even though the air temperature in the building was a cool 72 degrees. “I’ve
got to make this ad campaign work,” he thought to himself. “If it does, the
promotion will be mine!” It was not long after that George was called in the
executive Vice President’s office. When he left, he was a senior executive in
charge of several large accounts including the one he was working on. He also
added 50,000/ year to his existing salary. Mr. Bennett told him that it was
time to get some new suits. George glanced down at the well worn suit that his
wife repaired so often. He smiled. Life was becoming a whirlwind for Michael. They were moving away from the bungalow at Broad Channel and going to a place called Great Neck. Michael thought it was an odd name for a town. But it meant a new school for him. His little sister ran around saying something like “we go, we go!” Michael thought for a quick moment that it would be nice to be his sister’s age. SHE didn’t have to worry about making new friends. The Morales’ rented a small house in what was obviously an upscale neighborhood. Kids walked with designer sneakers busily talking on cell phones. Driveways were lined with the latest SUV’s. The school wasn’t far from their little house, so Michael walked. He got some new clothes albeit they weren’t the designer duds of the other kids. He went quickly to the office and found where his first class was. Math. Well, that was good because he always did well in it. “My future engineer,” his dad would say. He handed the slip of paper to the teacher. “Class,” she said, “we have a new student, Michael Morales, please make him welcome.” From the back of the room there was a nasty sneer. “Spic!” one of the boys yelled loudly. He was quickly sent to the principal’s office. Michael looked down at his shoes. “Take a seat, Michael,” the teacher said. Michael could feel the stares on his back. They felt like daggers. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t one of THEM. He wanted to go back to the little bungalow at Broad Channel and play stick ball with the other kids and laugh about whose pants had the most patches in them. He smiled as he thought about it. The bell nearly jolted Michael out of his seat. Lunchtime! Now what? Where would he sit? Would anyone talk to him? He nervously selected a table at the far end of the lunchroom and unwrapped his sandwich. As he ate, his eyes darted around looking for a friendly face. But there was none… Celeste was chatting with the
girls from her earth science class. They were discussing their plans for the
weekend when she noticed the downtrodden new kid sitting by himself. Celeste
remembered what it was like to be the “new kid” It was only a few years before
that her family moved from California because her mother made senior partner in
a large New York law firm. She remembered how different New York was from
California and how she struggled to make friends. “But I’m not going to let it
happen again…” she murmured to herself. “What did you say,” Karen asked her.
But there was no answer as Celeste joined Michael at the lone table. Michael beamed as they ate their sandwiches together. Someone reached out to him. Somehow he knew the rest his journey would be easier. _________________________________________________ "THE CENSUS TAKER" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah Ailman Marie was a loner. She was in her early sixties now and retired from her job at an old steel mill in Pennsylvania. She moved to the small Florida town and bought herself a tiny condo on the second floor of a renovated store. But she spent most of her days in front of the television, its monotonous blare soothing her into oblivion. Marie did not make friends easily, and now that she didn’t have a job to go to she was even more isolated. Sure, there were activities going on at the condo but as she watched a group of women chattering lively by the pool she just sighed. “Why am I so shy?” she thought to herself. But the idea of approaching the women made her freeze in terror. It would be another lonely night in front of the boob tube again. As she drank what was left of her cold cup of coffee, an ad caught her eye in the daily paper . “Hiring census takers” it said. Marie jotted down the address and jumped in the car. “Something to do at last,” she thought. Marie passed the test and then was assigned to training. The class was lively and the material was interesting. She started to look forward to learning new things and seeing her classmates, many of whom were retired just like she was. Could she finally find some friends?
As she knocked on her first door, Marie could barely whisper the words “United States Census Bureau” and hold her badge up for the man behind the door. But Jim was glad for some company, any company. His wife had died two years ago and he was lonely. Monica was the outgoing one, always making plans for dinner and dancing at the neighborhood clubhouse. She had him bowling and playing bocce ball on Monday mornings. And she was always laughing, always happy. Until that day at the doctor’s office. “Cancer” the doctor said and within six months the laughter was gone. And so were their friends. Oh sure, they tried to draw Jim out of his shell for awhile. But it didn’t work, and so the friends moved on leaving a sad and lonely Jim spending his days as Marie had, with the television as his only company. “Please come in” Jim said as he opened the door for the little lady and her clipboard. Marie came in and sat on the couch. “I have a few questions for you, and it will only take a few minutes.” Jim poured her a glass of ice tea. It was hot walking door to door in the Florida sun, and Jim wanted the nice lady to be comfortable even though it would only take a few minutes. But almost an hour later, they were still talking, albeit it wasn’t about the census. Jim was chattering like a school boy, and Marie anxiously hung on to his every word. When she left Jim’s house, she had a date for dinner that night and eventually every night after. The doorbell rang and the old lady shuffled to the door to answer it. “United States Census Bureau” chirped the census taker, who beamed with vitality and happiness. “Good morning, ma’am, my name is Marie.” _____________________________________________________________________________ |
"BEN" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah Ailman ___________________ Christmas
Day,
Ben was serving sausage stuffing and heartily greeting everyone. They
all were happy to see Ben and after dinner, they all cheered. Ben
asked Susan to marry him and as he slipped the ring on her finger he
mentally said the words, “Thank you
"CHANGING THE PICTURE" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah
Ailman
Most of his employees feared
Ben. Everywhere he went, whispered conversations would suddenly stop
whenever he appeared. And every year it seemed to get worse, especially
around the holidays. Employees would cheerfully decorate the office and
chatter unceasingly about their holiday plans. But Ben had no one. No
family, no pets. A holiday to him would be sitting at home staring at
the skyline while downing a $250-dollar-bottle of the finest single
malt scotch.
Ben
thought With all that I have these people are happier than me. He found
himself spending more and more time at the soup kitchen. He made
friends with many of the people there, including a young woman named
Susan. Susan was not only beautiful, but she was kind and genuinely
cared for all the people who visited the kitchen. One day, Ben asked
Susan to lunch. “Okay,” she said. “But nothing fancy.”
They ate
sandwiches at a local coffee shop. Ben was thinking to himself that he
never met a woman so lovely. So alive. Her eyes danced. Susan taught
underprivileged kids at a local school and spent a considerable portion
of her meager salary sprucing up her classroom so the kids could enjoy
it more. Ben fell in love. He realized the big secret in life he had
been missing. He was not GRATEFUL. For all that he had, he never
appreciated it. He only wanted more. And more, and more. Just for the
sake of having it. But now he understood.
Thanksgiving
Day
morning, Ben decided to go for a walk. There was nothing to do at
the office, and even Ben’s many girlfriends seemed to all have plans.
He buttoned up his $2,000 cashmere coat that he bought at Barney’s the
month before and hurried out onto Fifth Avenue by Central Park. It was
cold and blustery; he pulled his coat closer to him as he braved the
streets.
He began to walk. And walk. And
walk. Destination
unclear. He wound up near St. Vincent’s hospital down on Fourteenth
Street, nearly two miles from his apartment at sixty fifth. He passed
by what appeared to be a long line of people. Curious, he poked his
head in. It was the soup kitchen that the hospital ran. The lines were
long because they were short of help. Something snapped in Ben. But it
was a good snap.
He walked up to the lady in charge,
Sister
Dorina Marie. He told her he’d like to volunteer. She snapped him right
up. She found him an apron and stationed him right in front of the
sausage stuffing. Ben began to dole out heaping spoonfuls. He saw that
even though these people had nothing, they were happy. Grateful. 
Christmas
at Ben’s office that year was a little different. Ben helped with the
decorations and laughingly was included in all of the staff’s
conversations.
Now he had something to look
forward to. The soup
kitchen. And Susan.
She knew she was
very different from the other girls at the chic, upper eastside high
school: The trust fund kids with hundred dollar bills stuffed into their
uniform shirt pockets and the private limousines that lined the front
entrance at three o’clock. Margie had just the money she made from an
after school job and the grime of the subway to greet her at the day’s
end.
She kept to
herself whenever possible, sitting in the corner of the lunch room to
eat her bagged lunch. The other girls had their meals prepared by the
maids their parents employed; exotic lunches that Margie’s mother said
they just couldn’t afford to eat. “Thank God we have to wear uniforms”
Margie thought, though she noticed her K-Mart special shoes could not
hold a candle to the Jimmy Choo’s the other girls wore, or the Chanel
handbags they carried.
She often wondered why she had to go to
this school, since she stuck out like a sore thumb. It was her father’s
idea. He thought that Margie would get the best education possible; the
fact that his daughter might be miserable never entered his mind. In
fact, Margie wanted to go to the local public school where there were
kids like her. Kids who took the train to school, ate bagged lunches and
had part-time jobs. 
But Margie closed her mind to the girls at
school. They were in a different class as far above her as the
stratosphere is above the earth. Truth be told, most of the girls in
school didn’t like Margie, but still were polite, issuing the occasional
invitation to a house party on a Friday night. But Margie didn’t want
to see their trendy New York apartments, when she herself lived in a
little walk-up in Queens. Margie didn’t want them to see any part of her
“pathetic” existence. She wanted to be invisible. She wanted to get
through these four years of high school quicker than the subway train
could get from Queens to Manhattan.
This
went on for the first three years of Margie’s high school life. But
something different happened in the first few weeks of her senior year.
A transfer student appeared on the scene, a student who would change
Margie’s outlook on life.
Marisa
Holstein was like any of the other girls in school. Her family was
wealthy, and she lived only a few blocks from school in a duplex
overlooking Central Park. But Marisa had a quality about her that set
her apart from the other girls. She genuinely cared about people... All
people, not just the trendy ones. She noticed Margie sitting alone in
the lunch room, morosely eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Marisa wanted to reach out to her. She walked up and sat next to
Margie, a big smile planted across her attractive face. 
She struck up a
conversation with Margie and invited her to go for a cup of coffee
after school at the little bistro up the street. At first, Margie was
hesitant, but there was something in Marisa’s demeanor that made Margie
comfortable. Marisa seemed to really want to be her friend. And it was
only for a cup of coffee. It wasn’t like she was going to Marisa’s
house where she would have to see the maids and the fine art on the
living room walls. So she agreed.
Margie
had the best cup of coffee in her life. Marisa was so easy to talk to,
and Margie found herself telling Marisa all about her life and how she
felt so inadequate next to the other girls at school. The ones who had
daddy’s charge cards, when she never had more than ten dollars with her
at any one time.
Marisa spent her time building Margie up, and telling
her that she was just as good as any of the girls at school. Marisa
explained to her that just by virtue of her being here in this world
that she deserved to have whatever she wanted, and no matter what her
circumstances, that she could make it.
She told Margie that she was
smart and kind and sensitive. All the things the other girls had, well,
that was just material stuff. Nice to have, she said, but that it
didn’t define the person. That came from inside, and it was a wonderful
quality. Marisa said that Margie had just such a quality.
Margie
even went to Marisa’s house. And though it was apparent to her that
Marisa’s family was very well off, they were down-to-earth people.
Marisa’s father was a neurosurgeon who put himself through school
working as a short order cook in a Brooklyn diner. And her mother was
an attorney who worked at a local department store to pay for her law
school tuition.
They talked to Marisa about value; about self respect
and dignity. Margie ate many dinners at the Holstein house and listened
intently as Marisa’s parents explained to her that she could have
anything she wanted, as long as she believed she could. And it sunk in.
One
Monday afternoon Margie sat at a crowded lunch table in the school
cafeteria laughing and joking with the other girls. It didn’t matter
that she had a bag lunch or K Mart special shoes on anymore. Margie was
one of the girls, at last!
______________________________________________________________________________
"Fernanda Finds a Place"
A Law of Attraction Short Story
By Deborah Ailman
__________________________________________________
Fernanda was born to a drug addict mother and an absentee father. Her mother wasn’t capable of taking care of her ― she was more interested in where she would get her next fix than in the welfare of her newborn ― so Fernanda never really knew her mother. Child Protective Services swept her up after she was only a few weeks old and so began the journey from foster home to foster home.
Some of the kids were mean, asking her "what kind of stupid name Fernanda was." The only thing she knew about her name was that it belonged to her maternal grandmother. Whoever she was.
. . . Fernanda
arrived at the Morrissey home one sunny Tuesday afternoon, her ratty
suitcase containing the few articles of clothing she actually owned . . .
Fernanda
arrived at the Morrissey home one sunny Tuesday afternoon, her ratty
suitcase containing the few articles of clothing she actually owned.
But as she walked up to the front door, she felt something peaceful
about the place. Could this finally be home?
Susan greeted her
warmly and showed her to her room which was pleasantly decorated in
Fernanda’s favorite color, yellow. The curtains ruffled in the cool
breeze, and a small bouquet of daisies lay on the table by the bed. She
unpacked slowly trying to get a “feel” of the place. The only thing she
knew was that she felt content here.
Entering the kitchen,
where Susan made her a hot cup of cocoa, she noticed little pictures on
the wall that read Welcome to our happy home and Think Positive. Susan
explained the Law of Attraction to her and Fernanda was fascinated. She
soon began to act like Susan and Ed, practicing visualization and
positive thought. Her grades began to climb, and she started to think
of Susan and Ed as the mom and dad she never had.
Not long
after, Susan and Ed adopted Fernanda. She told them at dinner one night
how she used to dream about a house like the Morrissey’s and a yellow
bedroom. And her new folks told her how they had dreamed of having a
daughter like Fernanda. In fact, Sue told her, Fernanda was Ed’s
mother’s name. “Well what do you know,” Ed said. “Seems like we
attracted each other.”
"Sylvia"
A Law of Attraction Short Story
By Deborah Ailman
Sylvia ran
down the sidewalk one icy January morning, nearly slipping in the process. The
subway train rumbled under 39th Street . She thought If I miss that train I’ll be late again. Sylvia
worked at the New York Public Library for more years than she cared to
remember. The stately stone lions guarding the doors were now just a mundane part
of the cityscape. In fact, there was little that thrilled Sylvia now. Divorced
and in her sixties, she longed for a different life. But she was just plain old
Sylvia, and exciting lives belonged to other people, not her. Work was
all that Sylvia had; and she loved to clean the house. You could eat off of her
floors. In fact, that’s how she spent most of her weekends, cleaning what was
already clean, the blare of the T.V. in the background for company. Her kids
were grown and scattered across the country. She hadn’t seen them in years. She
had grandchildren she had never even met. But a lot of the blame was on Sylvia
herself. When the kids did call, she spent the whole time harping about how
miserable she was. Her son,
Jason, wanted her to come to live with them. “Retire Mom,” he’d say. “You
always have a place with us.” But Sylvia would just moan and groan about how
nobody wanted “some old lady” around. So eventually the kids stopped asking. Sylvia
thought why not. It was meeting over on 30th street. Not too far away. The furniture can wait to be polished for a little while. She walked
from the library and up to the second floor, where she heard laughter. Opening
the door she found people smiling. At
her. ‘Welcome,” they said as they handed her a steaming cup of coffee.
Sylvia smiled shyly as she sipped the warm brew. A new world opened up for Sylvia that night.
She learned about the wonderful Law of Attraction, and all about visualizing
and positive thinking. One
Saturday morning, the doorbell rang. Sylvia opened it and standing before her
was Jason, his wife, Marie, and
their two-year-old son, Jacob. Jason sheepishly
explained that they had an overwhelming feeling to see her. "It seemed to
come out of nowhere, Ma."
Sylvia
hugged Jacob as she never had before, and as the morning sun shined brightly on
he grandson's blond hair, she knew that this
is life. And she was prepared to finally
live it.


Each day Sylvia
brought a sandwich to work and sat in Bryant Park behind the library to eat.
She did this even when it was twenty degrees outside. She just bundled up her
coat and munched on her tuna fish sandwich.
One
day, as she sat staring into space, the wind whipped up a paper swirl
and a bright pink flyer caught on the edge of her foot. Reaching down,
she noticed LAW OF ATTRACTION GROUP TONIGHT AT 6 O'CLOCK - ALL ARE
WELCOME.
The people
at the meeting were so friendly that she actually opened up somewhat. She began
to visualize a new Sylvia. Work became easier now, and when she ate her
sandwich in the park she noticed the sun shining and the birds chirping. She
even went to the movies with some of the girls at work.
"Julia Makes it Happen" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah Ailman
Julia had it all. Beauty, brains, and a successful career. Lots of friends. At twenty-eight, she had the kind of life most people dream about. Almost, that is.
It was then that she became acquainted with something called the Law of Attraction. One of the girls at work was reading a book called The Secret

Julia practiced visualizing each day. She envisioned a man who had all the qualities she admired; one who also wanted a home and family. She saw them walking hand in hand at the beach, a little girl or boy running happily
at their side. And as she kept this up, she began to feel better and better.
She thanked her friend at work for introducing her to this wonderful concept and she felt sure the Law of Attraction was working on her behalf.
Then one
bright and sunny day, Julia was walking to her car which was parked right
outside her office. Shielding her eyes from the summer sky, something caught
her eye. On the curb by her car, on bended knee, was Evan, a diamond ring
glistening in the box he held with his outstretched hand. Something strange
happened, he said. Over the past few weeks, he gradually realized he was ready
for marriage and that Julia was the perfect woman for him, if she would still
have him.
"I was blind," he said, a crack in his voice. "But I sure see clearly now." Julia
slipped the ring on her finger.
Coincidence? You be judge. Maybe Julia will even send you an invitation
to her wedding. It could happen, because
anything is possible with the Law of Attraction!
"Jeb"
A Law of Attraction Short Story
By Deborah Ailman
Jeb, a
middle aged truck driver with an over-50 paunch and a road weary brow, had been
driving close to thirty years, criss-crossing the country time again. Sometime in the late 90's he noted in his
driver's log that he had driven on every Interstate highway in the lower
forty-eight. All that was left was Alaska and Hawaii, so he
marked that on his 'someday' list and headed out for another lumber haul out of
Washington. So in
keeping with the spirit of the radio host, he started to visualize a time when
he would retire from driving and would enjoy a pleasant home life. He’d like a
wife too; someone like Rosie. Someone who was funny and easy on the eyes, too.
Day after day he would picture coming home to his little house just up the
street from the Blue Moon. And Rosie would be there. Or at least someone like
her.
Months passed
and old Jeb decided it was time to trade in his trusty 18-wheeler for his
comfortable little home for good. Trucking had been good to him but it was time
to move on. It was time to see where other roads could lead. Roads that were
without Interstate signs.
He settled quite
easily into his new life and even planted a crop of tomatoes. He got a kick out
of watching them grow. He adopted a kitten from the animal shelter and even
began volunteering there every other Tuesday. And he kept visualizing.Unlike most
in his profession, he managed to buy a modest little home in the New Jersey suburbs; a place,
as it happens, he rarely saw. Life had been good enough for Jeb, but he was
getting older and the long trips were starting to wear on him. He was beginning
to think it was time for a change. But
what kind? He had always been a loner
and there was no family left. And
friends? You don’t make a lot of those
when you spend almost every hour, waking or otherwise, in a tractor trailer. 

Jeb did
have one bright spot in his otherwise mundane life. Rosie was a waitress at the
Blue Moon diner near his house. Bright and cheery, Jeb was surprised to learn
Rosie was married to a low down drunken bum; at least that was Jeb's opinion of
the guy. But it was really none of his business. Rosie would say it really
wasn’t that bad, that someday Tom would quit his drinking and get a real job.
Then, she smiled, she wouldn’t have to work so hard.
Jeb was
quite the reader, too. Just recently he had become interested in something
called the “Law of Attraction.” He visited the Wise Owl bookstore and picked up
a few books on the subject. He found it fascinating. He'd heard about it on
some late night talk show he'd tuned in somewhere in Wyoming.
It was a curious subject, and he was curious guy.
One day when he was busy feeding the animals, he lost all track of time. His shift had actually ended and another volunteer had arrived. Turns out it was Rosie. Of course Jeb was thrilled to see her. In his eyes she looked nothing less than radiant, and he soon ― with some deft conversation ― discovered the reason. She had left her husband.
In the
course of their warm conversation she told him he never quit drinking, and
could never hold a job because of it. Despite standing by him by him all those
years, it was clear to her that he would never change. “Come to
dinner at my house tonight,” Jeb said. Rosie readily
agreed. And over pot roast and a dubious cherry pie ― Jeb never pretended he
could bake anything other than a frozen pot pie from the grocery store ― they
fell in love. Jeb and Rosie found each other, as it was certainly meant to be. Like the distant voice of the radio host had
promised one snowy Wyoming
night on a darkened Interstate, Jeb had attracted it.
__________________________________________________
"Finding Yourself" A Law of Attraction Short Story By Deborah Ailman
It was just
another day for Jenny. Another boring day, just like yesterday and the day
before that and… She looked
around at the other kids in her class. Imagined what it would be like to be one
of those other girls. The pretty, popular ones. The ones who had dates every
Saturday night and didn’t have to stay home watching the History Channel with
her mom and dad. Her mother would always say, "Jenny, you’re a beautiful
girl! You’ll meet a boy who’ll appreciate you one day!"
Yeah, one day," she thought. "When I'm a hundred and ten!"
Her small group of friends seemed to dwindle. Even they were getting sick of
Jenny. She seemed to be caught in a downward spiral. Nothing was going her way
and she spent her nights wide awake, her heart racing in her chest. She didn’t
know if she was going crazy or dying! But she did know, at eighteen years old,
she didn’t want to die.Jenny
actually was a pretty girl. But her attitude was terrible. She never had a date
because whenever a boy spoke to her, she would say something mean or sarcastic.
Jenny thought she was being funny, but if she took the time to look at the
boy’s crushed expression she would know her remarks cut to the bone. She also
was a gossiper, telling tales about some of the other girls which not only were
mean, but downright lies. This led to Jenny having only a handful of friends,
and they were mirror images of her.
But now that she was getting older she wondered why life seemed to be passing her by.

Her parents
were becoming concerned as well. Jenny would be graduating from high school in
the next few months and she made no plans for her future. She was a bright
girl, and her parents desperately wanted her to go on to college, something
neither of them had done. But Jenny grew more and more despondent. She started
missing school and meals as well. She ate like a bird. And her mother noticed
that although Jenny never had many friends now she seemed not to have any. The
phone never rang for her. 
“Enough,”
her mother said. “You’re going to see a counselor.” Jenny’s
family lived next door to a woman who was a counselor. She agreed to work with
Jenny. Although she was resistant at first, Jenny realized that something had
to change in her life. So she agreed to try it. The
counselor, Charlotte, had a small office downtown a few miles from Jenny’s
house. Jenny actually enjoyed talking with Charlotte. It was in that office, for the
first time, that Jenny was introduced to the Law of Attraction.
Okay, so Jenny didn’t “buy into” it at first. She knew she was a negative thinker, often making gloomy predictions about everything in her life. But Charlotte was patient, and Jenny started to recognize the correlation between what she was thinking and how those thoughts were manifesting in her life. "Your life will change when you change your thoughts," Charlotte told her. And slowly, Jenny believed.
When she
went home at night Jenny would take time to visualize how she wanted her day to
be. She saw her friends coming back to her and laughing and joking with her.
She saw that boy she liked, Greg, asking her out and Jenny happily accepting.
And she learned to be kind. She no longer made snide remarks about some of the
other kids in school. She learned that they all have a right to think, act, and
dress as they pleased. She was not better than anyone else, nor were they
better than her. She smiled at the students she met in the hallways in school. And, just
like Charlotte
had told her, Jenny’s life turned around. People genuinely liked her. And she
started seeing Greg on a regular basis. She was happy. And because she was
happy, the Universe sent her more things to be happy about. She even decided on
college. A teacher, that’s what she wanted to be. Her parents were thrilled as
were her friends. Jenny
finally
stepped into the light and found herself. And how about you? Are you
like Jenny was? Why not try her formula for success, then you can step
into the light and find yourself as well.

"She Was a Drifter"
A Law of Attraction Short Story
By Deborah Ailman
She was always frightened, unsure of herself, worried that people would find out she was a fraud. At least she thought she was in the dark recesses of her mind. Always afraid she was not as good, not as smart, not as pretty as the next one. For them, life was wonderful, something to be celebrated. For her, well, she cursed the day she was born, a loser born into a family who despised her. Worthless, they thought. A waste of a life. Meant to live in the shadows of others; wanting to be like them but knowing she never could. Why, because she was HER. She was not worthy just because she was Sarah.
Sarah drifted through life with this same old broken record
playing in her head. “Not good enough,” its sour melody played. People seemed
to like her, but never quite with the fervor that was curried by others. So she
blended in the background like wallpaper, and acted like a wallflower. Sometimes, Sarah had the feeling that she was supposed to
“be” something in this world. Her parents would just say “Sarah, honey, just
get a job. Do anything. You know you’re not that smart. Get a job and maybe
find a man who’ll marry you. That’s all you can do”. Sarah did have her eye on Aaron. He was shy
like her, and not all that popular. But still Aaron would always smile and wave
at her.

Angela was the envy of all the girls, especially Sarah. | One day, Sarah was sitting on a bench in the cafeteria at school, within earshot of the pretty cheerleaders. She admired the head cheerleader, Angela, with her long blond hair and a perfect smile. Everyone liked Angela. It looked like she had it all together. Sarah looked at her longingly. “If only I could be like her,” she thought to herself. “She’s not only beautiful, but she’s the smartest kid in school.” But Angela never spoke to Sarah. None of the cheerleaders did. |
| Graduation came, and Sarah had no idea of what to do next,
despite her mother’s plea that she just get a job, any job. College wasn’t even
in the picture. “You’re not smart enough, Sarah,” her parents would say. And
Sarah would again think to herself that she must really be dumb if her own
parents even thought so. When I say nobody liked Sarah, I really shouldn’t have said "Nobody."
Animals loved her and she loved them, too. One day she was out for a walk when she saw Aaron walking his golden retriever, Max. Sarah was drawn to Max (and I suspect too Aaron, too). Aaron started talking to Sarah about school. He was going to Veterinary Technician School in their town. “Why don’t you go too, Sarah, you love animals,” he said. She thought about it that night. The next day she told her parents she wanted to be a vet tech. Her parents scoffed at first, but they knew how Sarah always took care of their many pets. She truly loved them. Max was the best Golden Retriever in the world! So, they reluctantly agreed to let her go at summer’s end. She was in Aaron’s class. The two of them studied together; got straight A’s together (to the surprise of Sarah’s parents) and fell in love together. Sarah truly had found her calling and her heart (and confidence) soared. She was beaming. | ![]() Aaron would become Sarah's partner for life, and her partner in the veterinary practice as well. Their love for one another would know no bounds... ![]() |
Two years later, she and Aaron graduated with honors and luckily got jobs at the same veterinarian’s office in town. Dr. Lowell was a big, friendly, guy with a huge practice and plenty of his own animals. They got along just fine, all of them. When they were working there six months, Aaron surprised Sarah with a sparkling two-carat diamond ring. Of course, Sarah said yes. They set a date for a year later. Sarah was in heaven except for one thing: She hadn’t made many friends over the years so who was going to be her maid of honor? Only the Universe knew at this point.
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Sarah was working late one night when she heard the screech
of a car and the voice of a hysterical woman. “My dog, my dog,” she cried. “He
got hit! Help him please!” It was Angela, the cheerleader, and her precious Pomeranian,
Pickles. Sarah stayed with Dr. Lowell all night working on Pickles. Angela
stayed in the waiting room, anxiously pacing back and forth. Sarah would come
out and sit with her from time to time and they would talk. “That dog is all I
have,” Angela said. “My parents were divorced when I was young and I’ve been
shuffled back and forth between them most of my life.” Sarah was shocked. All
along she wanted to be like Angela. Now, she felt sorry for her. In that waiting
room, that long night, the girls bonded and became best friends. And as for
Pickles, he came through with flying colors.
| Thanks to Sarah and Aaron, Angela's Pomeranian, Pickles, became the Flower Dog at their wedding! Angela got to be the Maid of Honor! |
Well you may know where this story is going. Sarah asked Angela to be her Maid of Honor and she agreed. And Pickles was the flower dog! Sarah and Aaron both went on to become veterinarians and their friendship with Angela has endured for years. The moral of this story is that no one is better than you. As you can see, Angela didn’t really have the life Sarah thought she did. And when Sarah listened to her heart, she found a job she loved and the man of her dreams to boot. So, follow your heart and see where it takes you. It always knows best.



