One Fine August (A Children's Story)

It was August and that is my name. I don't know why my parents named me August and I never will know. They died two weeks after I was born, ten years ago that summer. I don't tell you that they died to spook you, but to enlighten you as to my place, or lack of, in this world. For some of us, life is not always picture perfect, but it can be beautiful if we so choose.

That is the way that Jane and I chose to live our lives. You see, Jane's parents were in the same accident as my parents. We grew up together in a foster home with Miss Annette serving as our surrogate mother. We had no surrogate father and that did not seem to bother us.

One day in that August, Miss Annette asked us to help her in the garden. Usually Jane and I played in the sprinkler while Miss Annette gardened, but helping her garden was just as special of a treat as playing in the sprinkler, so we hopped to it!

While picking tomatoes, Jane asked to make a confession. Miss Annette immediately confessed her surprise at Jane's familiarity with the word confession. It certainly was not a highly used word among the elementary school set.

Jane waited. Miss Annette smiled and told her to confess away.

Jane confessed that she was angry because another child had told her that she and I were unwanted. Throwaway stuff like trash, even!

I was so angry that I squeezed a tomato to mush in my hand! Miss Annette's mouth set in a firm and decisive line. Jane started to cry.

Miss Annette said nothing, but took us indoors and let us watch cartoons the rest of the afternoon. Come supper time, Jane set the table, as it was her night to do so, and I helped Miss Annette with the dirty dishes after we had eaten.

Before bedtime, the three of us took turns reading from a Little House book. We said our prayers. Miss Annette tucked us in bed. After she had kissed both of us goodnight, she asked us if we knew of any children better loved than us. No, we answered. Miss Annette smiled and turned out our bedroom light.

A couple of days later Jane and I saw the mean spirited child who had caused Jane such heartache. Jane and I walked straight up to him, looked him the eye and said everything without saying a word.

That was the August that Jane and I learned that sometimes people say things just to be mean and not because the things they are saying are true. It was also the August that the kids in our school learned that Jane and I could no longer be bothered with implied insults and hurtful accusations.

We may have been young and orphaned, but we were well loved and well taught by Miss Annette. As far as I can remember, that was the only time that either of us ever doubted our worth. All we needed to bring us to our senses was a day of gentle everyday reminders from Miss Annette.