Write a story where the central theme is kindness— I know what I’m about to put doesn’t necessarily have ‘kindness’ as it’s theme, but oh well.

I walked was walking past the old thrift store on the dark side of town, I paused and put my hands up against the cold glass of the display window. On a golden framed stand sat a beautiful steel sword that glimmered in the light of the sun. I wanted that sword, I didn’t know why but as soon as I saw it I had a sudden urge to buy it- it called out to me.

I opened the door and the heavy scent of lavender assaulted my nose. I looked around and spotted the sword sitting on the stand so perfectly. I grabbed it and examined it carefully, it was perfect. I dashed over to the counter where a young woman sat reading an old newspaper.

“Hello,” I said, placing the sword on the counter. Startled, the young lady quickly looked up from her newspaper and at me. “Oh!” She began, “you scared me! Sorry, I haven’t had any customers today so I just assumed that no one would come in.” I smiled at her. “That’s ok,” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet, “I would like to purchase this fine sword.” She looked down at the sword that layed on the counter. “Yes, ok,” she picked up the sword and examined the price tag on the end of it, “That’s $99.99 for this antique beauty. $99.99? She was lucky that I liked the sword so much or she would be out of business. I gave her my cash then headed out to the store.

I was a knight, so as all knights do when they get a sword, I named it. _Kindness, _I thought, _it’s name will be kindness. I _chuckled remembering something my mom had once told me, “If anyone ever makes fun of you, you kill them— with kindness.” I knew this isn’t what she meant, but I couldn’t help myself.

Everyday since then, when I went into battles and got into fights with knights from the other kingdoms, I would kill people with Kindness. I killed my enemies with Kindness.

The sun was shining bright and was hovering in the sky, pulsing. It was surrounded by fragments of wispy clouds that looked like cotton balls strung across the sky. It was, to simply put it, a marvelous day.

And on this simply marvelous day there was a girl. She was no more than sixteen but she had an air surrounding her that let on she had wisdom much beyond her years. Her auburn hair fell just past her elbows in slight waves and her blue eyes were calm and still. But you could tell they were swimming with emotion and ideas by the glassy way they appeared and how they darted around like fish.

This girl, well, she was walking, and she ran into this woman. The woman had frazzled gray hair and wide green eyes. There was nothing particularly striking about this woman, only the odd fact she was wearing a cloak like she was some sort of witch, and she was holding a red umbrella on this perfectly clear day. The girl frowned, mystified by the fact the woman had an umbrella.

The woman dropped the red umbrella, but stood there calmly, as if waiting for the girl to pick it up. The girl, confused, knelt down and handed the old woman the red umbrella, perhaps out of kindness if nothing else. The woman smiled and handed the girl a tiny little seed. One seed, nearly the size of a pistachio. She tucked it into the girls hand and opened her red umbrella once again, holding it over her head.

The girl thought this was quite strange and was tempted to toss the seed down the drain. But instead she ran away pondering what to do, with her life and the seed. The woman seemed as if she had much experience in the poverty department and the girl, who was extremely kind if I hadn’t mentioned that before, decided to make do with the seed. She thought that the woman wouldn’t waste a seed on her unless she knew it was really worth it. The girl would plant the seed.

And so she did. She planted the seed. She dug up a tiny little hole and buried the seed as if it were a grave. Then she placed a little white stone right next to it so she would remember where she planted the seed. The girl was so excited, but she told no one of this seed, for she was far more than capable of keeping secrets.

Time passed like cars on the street. Year after year after year and nothing happened. The seed had not sprouted, despite how much sun and water it was getting daily. The girl’s parents perished and she still had no companion to call her own. So she went out in hopes of finding happiness.

But instead of finding happiness, she found the old woman again. Or, rather, the old woman found her. It had been many decades but the old woman still looked the same, as if she was frozen in time. She still was clutching her red umbrella, sitting on the park bench as if nothing had ever happened.

The girl, however, was delighted to find the old woman, for she desperately wanted to know why her seed would not sprout. “Please tell me why my seed will not sprout!” She begged the woman, letting a small tear leak down her face.

The woman only smiled, which showed wrinkles around her eyes from being happy often, and slowly let down her red umbrella. “You simply have to believe in it.”

The girl pursed her lips, not sure what this meant, but she took the woman’s advice and believed in the seed. She believed in the seed with every step she took, she had faith in it. And sure enough, when she made it back home, she found a gorgeous oak tree, seemingly been there for many years.

The girl gasped with delight and ran to the oak tree, beaming. It had worked. This woman was magic! And now, everyday, the girl leans on my old trunk and tells me the story of how I was made. And everyday she talks to me, tells me things, feeding me memories.

And the girl and her tree lived happily ever after.

————————————————————————————————————————————-

The moral of this story is have faith in things. Believe in them and amazing things will happen.

Right now the 😷world😷 needs🌈 color 🌈 which you spreed by being 👤you👤. By ✏writing🖊, 🤣laughing🤣, and being 🥰kind🥰. You are 🌌awesome🌌 and of all day to remember this is today. Have a good day at school! With Bestie Love, Katherine

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY JG!!!!)

My bestie Always got my back Always there for me Never stays on track

My bestie I’m myself when I’m with her We’ll sing so loud to see Who can sing better

My bestie Who won’t put on a dress Who’ll text me something funny And make her lunch tray a mess

My bestie Getting Starbucks is a staple We’ll go get some and with glee Head to Staples

My bestie We never fight Those sleepovers you see They were such fun nights!

My bestie Laughing when we’re together Climbing unstable trees We’ll be besties forever

Dedicated to my 🤪AWESOME🤪 bestie, 💙Kathryn💙, who is probably 📖reading📖 and 💬commenting💬on this poem right now!!

Always there for me No matter what

Sacrifices her happiness To ensure mine

Doesn’t care if her heart gets broken As long as mine is whole

Kind and sweet Funny and snarky

Honest and fun Concerned and helpful

To special to be real But she is

She will always be my BFF No matter what

I will always be her BFF Even if she doesn’t believe me

I will always tell her everything first No matter what

My BFF Lily

Today, I bake peanut butter cookies as she stares from the other side of the kitchen. Her bloodshot eyes stare with the perfect focus that I thought lost to time through the recognition of ADD and busy lives.

She knows nothing about attention deficit disorder. She only knows the mailman as a threat and each squirrel as a potential chew toy. She knows that I’m a tough customer, which means she has to work for anything I’ll eat.

First, it unfolds with a mid mixing interruption of a whimper, followed by a nudge and a sad hound face directly up at me when I look down. She waits until the cookies are done and checks to see if I’ve lost interest long enough to lose count of cooling cookies.

Then, when I go to eat one, she’ll turn on the water works and cry like she’s about to be taken back to the shelter. Other times, the slobber will be pooling on the floor. She keeps this going because she knows sometimes I’ll give up if she works me down.

Whenever she’s given up hope and walks over to her bed in the corner, I check to see if she’s paying attention. When she really gives up, I’ll give her a cookie.

Not because I think I’m being kind. It’s because I’m sucker for a lost cause.

A phone call startles me from my restlessness. I had one of the most awful days and my mood is as irritated as one can get. I grab the phone from the receiver and take the call.

“Girl, I had a feeling something wasn’t right with you. Tell me now.”

This is the last thing I want to be talking about. Laynie is my best friend but I’m not even sure she can get me out of this slump.

“I don’t want to share.”

“Well, I don’t care. I’m your best friend and I deserve to know when you are in peril. I care for you and want you to know I’m here. I have this sense in my gut that tells me when you’re upset, and as your best friend, I must know the reason behind this awful churning in my abdomen. Now spill the beans.”

I contemplate talking. Deciding against my better intuition, I spill.

“I wasn’t able to get what I wanted. I know that sounds so dumb but, like, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. You know, taking the day off, relaxing, doing what I want, and pampering myself. Guess why that didn’t happen,” without waiting for a response I continue. “The place I’m renting decided to just get all fucked up today. My water heater is leaking and I have all this added amount of stress and all I wanted was one relaxing and cozy day. The world just won’t let me have that, will it? I mean I think I do most things right and then all of a sudden things get messy and I’m back to being stressed and depressed.”

Laynie pauses before her speech. She does this every time to help me through my bad days. She’s always been there in my worst moments. She’s seen the awful, shitty side of me and still decides to stay.

“I think you should come over to mine for the rest of the night. I’ll draw a nice warm bath. With bubbles, obviously. We can pamper ourselves together and have an amazing time. Do our nails, eat ice cream, talk more, and I can get you out of your stressy, depressy funk. You can worry more about your water heater tomorrow. I’ll even help you make a list of steps to take in order for getting it fixed. You know you can count on me to help you through your stuff. I know you do. I’d appreciate it greatly, that if you’re feeling low, you give me a call. I care and worry about you.”

“I know you do. You’re always there. And why should I call you if you already know I’m having a rough time? You always call me.”

“True. So what time are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way,” I say, feeling better since the day started.

I put lilies in every room and then I lit the house on fire. Trix would've wanted it that way.

As the floral blaze licked its way across the cedar walls, I sniffed and checked my watch. 3:48 am. Plenty of time.

I wandered around the neglected front yard, with one eye still on the fire, my mind's eye scanning for a plan. Once the fire had been properly fed, I would need to find Marcus. Tell him the deed had been done. Collect payment for my service as his "dirtied hand."

4:01 text sent. 4:07 text sent. 4:15 a call. Straight to voicemail.

Marcus was no doubt neck deep in a tankard of ale. Again.

After dousing the flames and double checking what remained, I headed into town. I poked my head into a few unsavory joints in search of that deadbeat.

I found him at The Whistling Nightcap. He was sober for a change. As practiced as my annoyance was by now, I fumbled for words when I saw him. Should I chastise? Should I nitpick? Were words even necessary at this point?

"Deed's done, Marky," I said, sliding opposite him in the booth.

His bloodshot eyes closed as he nodded.

"Did the fire take?"

"'Course it did."

"Good. The government ain't gettin' squat."

"To be fair, Marcus, your mother did forget a lot of back-to-back mortgage payments."

"You want a free breakfast or what?" He shoved a menu in my direction.

We ate our pancakes in silence, knowing Trix would be proud.

The differences between us

They’re black and white, they’re brutally gray, and here to stay

Me and you

The things you’ve faced You found jewels laced with poison You found love that came broken Your heart became frozen Nothing went as planned

And then you withdrew

I don’t know anything about the poisoned, broken, frozen, pieces of you

I don’t know anything about you

It’s so different yet as true as time I’ve faced things I’ll never say They’ll never compare to your day Yet the whispering doubt always stays

You look at me and misunderstand I look at you and misunderstand

We’re so different I don’t understand you

But if I tried I’d see how much Your words hold true If I saw I’d fight the world With just me and you If I heard clear as crystal I knew I’d persue

I don’t understand But I want to

No one tries to understand But they need to

They need to risk They need to ask They need to stand Then they’ll give that chance

The chance for the pieces of your heart to risk together to ask united to stand in harmony

A chance

I understand that I will never understand But I stand with you

For a while Humans were rude Based on your look. Dogs Were never that way Poodles didn’t bully dachshunds.

Now Humans have learned To be like dogs And Be like a Great Dane near a Yorkshire terrier