Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed would live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn’t seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window – and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence–deathly silence.
The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away–no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced – a blank wall.
As I sat there in English class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so-called “best friend”. I stared at her long, silky hair and wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and I handed them to her. She said “thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her; I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.
The phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how her love had broken her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone. So I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes and wished she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said “thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her; I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.
The day before prom she walked to my locker. “My date is sick. He’s not going to go”. Well, I didn’t have a date and in 7th grade we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as “best friends”. So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, I was standing at her front door step! I stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t think of me like that and I knew it. Then she said “I had the best time; thanks!” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her; I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.
A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as her perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get her diploma. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t notice me like that and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, “You’re my best friend, thanks” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her; I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.
A Few Years Later
Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. I watched her say “I do” and drove off to her new life, married to another man. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like that and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said “you came! Thanks” and kissed me on the cheek. I wanted to tell her; I wanted her to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love her but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why.
Years passed; I looked down at the coffin of the girl who used to be my “best friend.” At the service they read a diary entry she had written in her high school years. This is what it read: I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he didn’t notice me like that and I knew it. I wanted to tell him; I wanted him to know that I don’t want to be just friends. I love him but I’m just too shy and I don’t know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me! I wish I did too… I thought to myself, and I cried.
Loving you, as you are
In so many ways
Being with you
Even when you are
Loving you, now
Desiring to be with you
Letting you be
Even when I want
You near me
Loving you, desperately
Wanting you, yet
Wanting you your freedom
Loving you, from a
And up close, intimately
And letting you go
Loving you, this way
This amazing way
Yet, barely imaginable
Loving you, I see
It has no bounds
It lacks definitions
Loving you, is
Loving you is
A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer’s showroom and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.
As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man’s name embossed in gold. Angry, he raised his voice to his father and said, “With all your money, you give me a book?” and stormed out of the house, leaving it.
Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family but realized his father was very old and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to go home immediately and take care of things.
When he arrived at his father’s house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father’s important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened it and began to turn the pages. And as he did, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer’s name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation and the words: PAID IN FULL.
A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the pups and nailed it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy.
“Mister,” he said, “I want to buy one of your puppies.”
“Well,” said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, “these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.”
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer.
“I’ve got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?”
“Sure,” said the farmer.
And with that he let out a whistle, “Here, Dolly!” he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little pups of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight.
As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little pup appeared; this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up.
“I want that one,” the little boy said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy’s side and said, “Son, you don’t want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would.”
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer he said, “You see sir, I don’t run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands.”
Watch your thoughts, for they become words
Watch your words, for they become actions
Watch your actions, for they become habits
Watch your habits, for they become character
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny
Life is a mirror
The places you’ve been
The things you’ve accomplished
Life is a journey
Crossing many paths
Destined to somewhere
Life is a flower
The spring arrives
The winter comes, withering away
After so many years of developing my own website templates, I’ve decided to change HmongMe into a blog style. HmongMe is now powered by WordPress ^^ This will be easier for me to manage because I don’t have to worry about editing each page. I will soon add my favorite collections of poems and stories again, so stay tune! Also, many thanks to my beautiful husband, Chao Moua, for uploading WordPress for me ♥