It’ll blow over. I can’t do much fancy swinging
from the rope with these bandages, anyway.”
Sara looked at Seth. She wanted to look into his eyes to see if she could tell if he was really feeling as good as his words
sounded. He didn’t seem bothered, but instead, he seemed calm and confident.
“I know. You’re right, Seth. Everything will be all right. I know it will.”
“Sara, you and Annette have fun over there. I’ll see you later.”
Sara felt relief. She was very happy that Seth wasn’t angry at his parents, and that he didn’t seem to be holding himself
in a state of resistance that would keep his wounds from quickly healing.
Sara ducked off the road onto the path leading to the tree house, and Seth continued on down the road toward his house, but
it just felt wrong that Seth wasn’t going to the tree house. Sara felt very sad.
As she came around the last bend of the trail to the edge of the water, she could see Annette standing out on the platform
of the tree house looking up into the treetops. Sara left her things at the base of the tree and climbed up the ladder to
the platform where Annette was standing. This all seemed so wrong. Seth should be here!
It seemed like only yesterday that she and Seth were happily swinging from the rope in their very own tree house, sharing
a deliciously private friendship and amazing secrets, and now, in the blink of an eye, Seth had been banished from the tree
house, and even from Solomon, and here was this new girl, instead. Sara hadn’t liked it that Seth had invited Annette in to
begin with, but now it seemed that Annette had replaced Seth. Seth was gone, and Annette was here.
“Hi, Annette,” Sara said flatly. When she heard her own voice she wished she had tried to sound more cheerful.
“Hi, Sara,” Annette replied. She didn’t sound any more cheerful than Sara.
“Well, here we are,” Annette said.
“Yeah,” Sara replied.
Solomon sat perched high in the treetops on the other side of the river, watching the girls settling in, and once they were
comfortable, he flew across the river and glided softly to the platform. Plop! Well, hello, my fine, fearless, friendly, freedom-loving, female, featherless friends!
The girls laughed. “Solomon, are you always this happy?”
Well, yes, Annette, I guess I always am. The alternative is unacceptable.
Sara looked at Solomon. She admired his consistent philosophy of always looking for things to feel good about. She wished
she could be more like him.
“Unacceptable?” Annette responded. “You make it sound like it’s always your choice?”
It always is.
As Sara watched Annette’s intense face, pouting in response to Solomon’s reply, she remembered so many times that she and
Solomon had exchanged the very same words. Sara could easily guess what Annette would say next, because Sara had said it herself
so many times:
“But Solomon, sometimes things just happen that you can’t control, that make you feel bad!”
I know it sometimes feels that way, Annette, but that is never true. In time, you will come to understand that you can always control the way you feel.
Sara knew Solomon was right about this, for she had proven to herself so many times that she could change her focus and therefore
change the way she was feeling. But as she listened to Annette talking with Solomon, she couldn’t help but think about Annette’s
mother dying, and how awful that would be. And how impossible it must be to focus on something else in order to feel better.
“But Solomon . . .” Annette protested.
Sara pulled her legs up close to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes to try to brace herself in
readiness for the painful, heart-wrenching words that Annette was about to speak about the death of her mother.
“Solomon,” Annette continued, “how can Sara and I feel good about swinging from this wonderful tree house when our friend,
Seth, who made this tree house,
from the rope with these bandages, anyway.”
Sara looked at Seth. She wanted to look into his eyes to see if she could tell if he was really feeling as good as his words
sounded. He didn’t seem bothered, but instead, he seemed calm and confident.
“I know. You’re right, Seth. Everything will be all right. I know it will.”
“Sara, you and Annette have fun over there. I’ll see you later.”
Sara felt relief. She was very happy that Seth wasn’t angry at his parents, and that he didn’t seem to be holding himself
in a state of resistance that would keep his wounds from quickly healing.
Sara ducked off the road onto the path leading to the tree house, and Seth continued on down the road toward his house, but
it just felt wrong that Seth wasn’t going to the tree house. Sara felt very sad.
As she came around the last bend of the trail to the edge of the water, she could see Annette standing out on the platform
of the tree house looking up into the treetops. Sara left her things at the base of the tree and climbed up the ladder to
the platform where Annette was standing. This all seemed so wrong. Seth should be here!
It seemed like only yesterday that she and Seth were happily swinging from the rope in their very own tree house, sharing
a deliciously private friendship and amazing secrets, and now, in the blink of an eye, Seth had been banished from the tree
house, and even from Solomon, and here was this new girl, instead. Sara hadn’t liked it that Seth had invited Annette in to
begin with, but now it seemed that Annette had replaced Seth. Seth was gone, and Annette was here.
“Hi, Annette,” Sara said flatly. When she heard her own voice she wished she had tried to sound more cheerful.
“Hi, Sara,” Annette replied. She didn’t sound any more cheerful than Sara.
“Well, here we are,” Annette said.
“Yeah,” Sara replied.
Solomon sat perched high in the treetops on the other side of the river, watching the girls settling in, and once they were
comfortable, he flew across the river and glided softly to the platform. Plop! Well, hello, my fine, fearless, friendly, freedom-loving, female, featherless friends!
The girls laughed. “Solomon, are you always this happy?”
Well, yes, Annette, I guess I always am. The alternative is unacceptable.
Sara looked at Solomon. She admired his consistent philosophy of always looking for things to feel good about. She wished
she could be more like him.
“Unacceptable?” Annette responded. “You make it sound like it’s always your choice?”
It always is.
As Sara watched Annette’s intense face, pouting in response to Solomon’s reply, she remembered so many times that she and
Solomon had exchanged the very same words. Sara could easily guess what Annette would say next, because Sara had said it herself
so many times:
“But Solomon, sometimes things just happen that you can’t control, that make you feel bad!”
I know it sometimes feels that way, Annette, but that is never true. In time, you will come to understand that you can always control the way you feel.
Sara knew Solomon was right about this, for she had proven to herself so many times that she could change her focus and therefore
change the way she was feeling. But as she listened to Annette talking with Solomon, she couldn’t help but think about Annette’s
mother dying, and how awful that would be. And how impossible it must be to focus on something else in order to feel better.
“But Solomon . . .” Annette protested.
Sara pulled her legs up close to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes to try to brace herself in
readiness for the painful, heart-wrenching words that Annette was about to speak about the death of her mother.
“Solomon,” Annette continued, “how can Sara and I feel good about swinging from this wonderful tree house when our friend,
Seth, who made this tree house,
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