Breaking The Silence (standard:drama, 5825 words)
Author: Lori	Added: Nov 18 2008	Views/Reads: 3168/1997	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A teacher gives a student the courage to tell a secret by sharing one of her own.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“I can't tell you.” Rebecca didn't look at her teacher. She didn't want
her to know what the problem was. If she did, she, the teacher, would 
know how bad Rebecca was. Mrs. Larson liked her. She didn't want Mrs. 
Larson to not like her anymore. 

“You can tell me anything, Sweetie.” Sherry took Rebecca's little hand
in hers. “Let's step out here so we can have more room.” 

The bell rang. Sherry knew she couldn't leave the child, but she had to
do something about her class. “Wait right here for me okay? I'm going 
to ask Mr. Johnson if he'll look after the other students and come back 
to you. Is that okay?” 

“Yes, Ma'am.” Rebecca darted back in the bathroom stall and locked the
door again. 

“Don't go anywhere.” Sherry tried to hide the laughter at the child's
antics. Something must really be bothering the girl for her to act like 
this, she thought. Sherry wondered which boy had hurt her feelings. 
Probably that little Marcus Pierson. That little boy had serious 
problems, Sherry thought to herself. He hated every girl who came to 
the school for no other reason then they were girls. She had to wonder 
what he was being taught at home. 

Seeing Henry Johnson walking down the hall reminded Sherry what she was
doing and what she wasn't doing. “Oh! Henry just the person I need.” 

“What can I do for you?” Henry liked Sherry. Everyone did. She had an
outgoing personality that made people like her on sight. She would 
laugh at all his stupid jokes and smile at him in the halls each time 
she saw him. There was never anything bad said about her. Made him 
wonder what her deep dark secret was, but it didn't change the fact 
that Sherry Larson really loved the kids who went to school there. For 
that alone, he wouldn't bother finding out what made this woman tick. 

“Rebecca Donaldson locked herself in the bathroom.” Sherry glanced back
over her shoulder to see if the little girl had left the bathroom. Sure 
enough, the halls were empty. “I have to go back to class, but I also 
have to get her out.” 

“Say no more. I'm at your disposal.” Henry laughed as they walked back
the way Sherry had came. Her classroom was two doors up from the girls' 
bathroom, so she passed it on the way to talk to Henry. 

Sticking her head in the door, Sherry called to her students. “Everyone,
you know Mr. Johnson. I have a little situation to deal with and he's 
offered to watch you while I do that. So, say hi to him and be on your 
best behavior. I will hear about it if you're not.” Sherry teased as 
she walked out. Making her way down the hall to the bathroom, she heard 
the screams of welcome and chuckled at the enthusiasm of her children. 
They really were sweet kids, Sherry thought walking into the girls' 
bathroom. 

“Rebecca.” She called out hoping not to have to repeat getting the child
to come out of the bathroom. Luck was on her side seeing the door swing 
open without prodding. “There you are.” She smiled and knelt down to 
look in her eyes. 

“I didn't move.” Rebecca said for the lack of something else to say. 

Sherry laughed and tried to hug the girl. When met with resistance, she
began to worry again. Rebecca didn't like to be hugged, but she usually 
let Sherry wrap her arms around her. “What's the matter, little one?” 
Sherry was concerned it was some thing worse than a child teasing 
Rebecca. 

“I'm bleeding.” Rebecca started to sob uncontrollably. Sherry was beside
herself in shock and took the little girl in her arms. 

“Oh, Sweetie.” Sherry rubbed her arms up and down the little girl's
back. “Did you hurt yourself on the playground?” 

“No.” Rebecca stood there letting her teacher hold her, but didn't offer
to return the hug. 

Sherry realized she hadn't seen Rebecca on the playground with the other
children, so she wondered how she got hurt. “How did you hurt 
yourself?” 

“I can't tell you.” Rebecca sobbed louder. “It's a secret and no one was
supposed to know. Now I'm dying and it doesn't matter.” 

“Oh, Honey.” Sherry laughed at the over dramatic monologue of an
eight-year-old going on twenty. “You're not dying.” 

Pulling back so she could look the child over, Sherry couldn't see
anything wrong. Then it dawned on her the bleeding might not be able to 
be seen. It wasn't unusual for an eight-year-old to start menstruation, 
but Sherry didn't think Rebecca fight that category. A knot formed in 
Sherry's stomach. Other teachers had dealt with this, but Sherry had 
been lucky to avoid it happening to one of her students. 

“Has someone touched you?” Sherry whispered as she looked into Rebecca's
eyes. Oh my God! She thought. It was as plain as the nose on her face, 
but Sherry had missed it. “Rebecca, has someone touched you in a place 
where little girls shouldn't be touched?” 

“I can't tell you.” Rebecca wanted to run back into the bathroom stall,
but Sherry stopped her. 

“Rebecca.” Sherry didn't know what to do. “Oh, baby. Let's sit down.” 

There wasn't anywhere to sit, seeing how it was a bathroom, so Sherry
led the child over to the wall. She slid down and pulled the little 
girl into her lap. 

“It's like looking into a mirror.” Sherry uttered not realizing she
spoke aloud. 

“What do you mean?” Rebecca laid her head on her teacher's shoulder. She
didn't want to hug the woman, but an embrace offered much needed 
comfort. 

“I'm going to tell you a story about a little girl who was once your
age.” Sherry knew this was against school policy, but she didn't care. 
This little girl needed her help. The only way to do that was to peer 
inside her own darkness to show Rebecca it is possible to overcome 
sexual abuse as a child. 

“What kind of story?” Rebecca liked stories. She really liked stories
about princess the best. Rebecca fantasized about being a princess 
being saved by the knight when she listened to one. 

“Not the kind you're thinking about.” Sherry began to gently rock back
and forth. “There was a little girl named Sherry.” 

“That's your name.” Rebecca glanced up and smiled at her teacher when
she recognizing Sherry's name. 

“That's because this is my story, Silly Goose.” Giving the little girl a
kiss on her check, Sherry smiled at Rebecca hoping she would remember 
this was a true story. Having hopes of making her realize not all 
stories were fairy tales, Sherry began again. 

“Once there was a little girl named Sherry. She had everything a child
could ask for. Sherry was loved by her parents, grandparents, friends, 
everyone loved her. But she was so lonely.” 

“Why was the little girl lonely?” Rebecca liked being part of the story.
It got on her mother's nerves, but she couldn't help it. Fantasy land 
was the place Rebecca wanted to live. She could only do that when she 
could see pictures of the stories being told. 

“Her real parents had gotten a divorce and her mother married another
man . . . ” 

“Like mine did?” Rebecca asked in a whisper. 

“Just like yours did.” Sherry smiled at the little girl. At the rate
they were going this story might take all day, she thought to herself. 

“Was he nice to the little girl?” Rebecca glanced at her hands and
started playing with her dress. 

“He loved the little girl as if she were his own.” Sherry laid her head
on the little girl's and thought about the man who raised her. Since 
her biological father died when Sherry was ten, Louis was the only 
daddy she knew. 

Sherry thought about the different kind of abuse Louis taught her.
Though it wasn't part of the story she was telling Rebecca, Sherry 
learned men hit when they were trying to teach a lesson to a child. 
Sherry knew a child needed disciplined, but Louis carried it to the 
extreme. 

“Did she love him back?” Rebecca's question brought Sherry out of the
fog of memories. 

“Yes she did.” Sherry kissed the little girl's head and continued. “But
that's not what this story is about. Sherry was lonely because she felt 
since her first father left her no one else could love her.” 

“Poor little girl.” Rebecca knew that feeling. 

Sherry realized the little girl was into the story now. The only thing
she prayed was Rebecca listened to what the story would tell her. “She 
met a boy who was older that convince Sherry he loved her. She really 
needed someone to love her, so Sherry let the boy touch her private 
places.” 

“Did it hurt?” Rebecca wanted to know if she was like the girl in the
story, if they shared the same pain. 

“Even though she badly burned her foot at the age of four, had an
operation at three, and split her toe open at the age of two, Sherry 
hadn't known pain like that before. It felt like her whole body was on 
fire, like she was ripped in two, and being torn from limb to limb all 
at the same time.” Sherry closed her eyes remembering what happened 
that long ago day. When she least expected it, the emotional pain still 
had the potential of laying her low. It was the reason she recently 
sought a therapist to help her finally get over the demons of her past. 


“The boy taught Sherry how to kiss him on his private part, taught her
how to play with herself so he could watch, and taught her how to love 
a man like a woman should instead of a child.” Sherry began to cry 
thinking about all the things she was taught by a man who had no 
business teaching a child the ways of adults. 

“There was this one time where he held her down.” Sherry hated thinking
about all this crap. Sherry really hoped she was helping the child by 
telling this. She was risking her job,  a job she loved, describing 
things a child shouldn't know about, but felt there was no other way. 

“He laid on top of her and held her hands above her head. The whole time
he was on top of her, he looked into her eyes. They were so cold and 
mean. Sherry couldn't move away from those eyes, she was so scared and 
felt so helpless. All she wanted was to be loved by this boy. And if it 
meant doing these things, feeling this way, and hurting herself Sherry 
would do it.” 

“What did the little girl do?” Rebecca thought about how sad this story
was. 

“She did what she was told.” Sherry misunderstood what the child was
asking. “She loved the boy like he asked. But she felt ashamed and 
afraid. She carried a secret now. Sherry felt as if she was tainted 
with a disease and everyone could see it. She quickly learned how to 
become invisible.” 

“How did she do that?” Rebecca felt like this could be the story of her
own life. 

“She didn't call attention to herself. Sherry didn't make friends
because she was scared they would ask her questions she couldn't 
answer. She didn't talk to her family for the same reasons. She felt so 
alone and just blended in with society.” 

“What's so-ci-a-ty?” Rebecca wanted to understand all she could about
the girl in the story. 

“It's people, Honey.” Sherry laughed without humor. “She blended in with
the people around her.” 

“Oh.” Rebecca knew the word now. It's what she did every day she came to
school. 

“Sherry played with other children, but never connected to them. She
knew not playing would call more attention to herself. Her parents 
would wonder why she didn't want to have fun with kids her own age. 
Plus, Sherry was from a large family on her mother's side. There were 
always cousins, aunts, and uncles around when she was growing up. 
Sherry learned very early in life to wear a mask and let everyone think 
she was okay. 

“And even though it hurt to be with the boy, the only time Sherry felt
alive was when she was with him. She didn't have to hide the secret 
with him because he was part of the secret. She could be herself with 
him and he loved her. Sherry didn't know this wasn't real love.” 

“How long did it go on?” Rebecca's had been going on for a long time.
She couldn't remember how long, but knew it was since her mother had 
married her stepfather. 

“Forever.” Sherry whispered. “At least it felt that way at the time.” 

Sherry's body shook thinking about how weak, vulnerable, and powerless
she felt. She hated those feelings today because they reminded her of a 
time when she didn't have a choice to be anything but those things . 

“About four years. Four years of touching Sherry every chance he got and
taking risks to touch her when he shouldn't. She could be in the woods 
beside his house playing at being a princess who's rescue by a knight 
on a white horse and he would show up as if he were the knight. He 
would lead Sherry to a private place and kiss her. He would strip her 
clothes off piece by piece like he loved to look at her young body. He 
would kiss places no one had ever seen and say how beautiful she was. 
Everything was a lie leading up to the act of love.” 

“How do you know he was lying?” Rebecca looked at it as a child who was
going through the same thing. The person who was abusing her said he 
loved her too. Was that a lie like in the story? 

“Because his mouth moved.” Sherry slipped further into the darkness.
“When a man's mouth moves, he's lying. All he wants is to get into your 
panties and have his way with you. You're nothing special to him, just 
a piece of meat to take frustration out on.” 

“Mrs. Larson,” Rebecca squirmed in her lap. “You're hurting me.” Rebecca
tensed up thinking the beloved teacher was going to badly hurt her if 
she didn't turn loose. She was already bleeding. What more could 
happen? 

“Oh, Sweetie.” Sherry started to cry thinking she had really hurt the
child. “I'm so sorry. I was caught up in the story and forgot you were 
there. Please forgive me. The hurt belongs to someone else, not you.” 

“Okay.” Rebecca had no idea what her teacher was talking about. But it
was sad to see Mrs. Larson cry. Rebecca wanted to think about someone 
else hurting her. It wasn't as if it was even bad, so she wanted to 
forget it. “What happened next?” 

“The boy got away with it.” Sherry's mother wasn't about to put her
daughter through a tortuous examination by numerous doctors. Then go 
through the process of going to trail, testifying, and having people 
look as if she were to be pitied. 

“She wasn't strong enough to tell her story.” Sherry said simply to
cover up her mother's flaws in thinking the way she did. 

Sherry couldn't tell anymore. She was emotionally drained. The bad part
was Sherry hadn't heard Rebecca's story. “Since you're bleeding today, 
it must have happened yesterday. Am I right?” 

“Yes, Ma'am.” Rebecca knew Mrs. Larson was going to ask about what
happened. Rebecca thought of the little girl in the story and wondered 
if she were strong enough to tell her story. It wasn't she wanted to 
get the person in trouble, but Rebecca didn't want to be hurt anymore 
either. 

“Can you tell me about it?” Sherry didn't want to hear the story just as
much as the child didn't want to tell it, but she knew something the 
child didn't. “Half the battle is getting it out in the open. Once you 
say it, the telling gets easier. If you open up, and allow it to come 
out, then you can get past it.” She prayed for God's forgiveness in 
telling this little white lie. 

“Okay.” Rebecca didn't know whether to believe the woman or not, but she
trusted Mrs. Larson. 

“I went to play with my friend across the street. I had to look both
ways, but we live on a country road with not many cars coming by. Mommy 
makes me so if there is a car I won't be runned over.” Pausing for 
breath, Rebecca looked at her teacher to see if she were listening. 

“Go on.” Sherry promoted the child. She knew to be as quiet as possible
so the child wouldn't become scared with too many questions. 

“She wasn't at home but her brother was. He said I was just a little kid
who didn't know how to cross the street, so now he had to walk me home. 
I got mad and said I wasn't a little kid and that I did it all the 
time. I wanted him to like me.” Whimpering a little, Rebecca drew in 
deep breath She wanted to get the telling of this over. 

“He said it was too bad I wasn't old enough to see a surprise he had for
me and I said ‘Wanna bet?' He said it wasn't at his house but his 
grandparents'. I asked what kind of surprise and he said it wasn't just 
for anyone, that it had to be a special little girl.” Rebecca 
remembered feeling like she wouldn't add  up to this boy's idea of 
special but wanted to try. 

“What did you say?” Sherry kissed the child on her head again and rubbed
her arms for added comfort. 

“I said I was special because I had two daddies and they loved me. He
asked if they loved me like a girl or a woman. I didn't know what that 
meant and said so. He said he could show me if I wanted him too. I said 
I did and he came out of the house. 

“The whole time we were walking down the street to his grandparents' he
kept touching my arm. I knew I should've moved away, but really liked 
it. I thought he wanted to touch me because I was special.” Rebecca's 
voice got really quiet and it was hard to hear her. Sherry leaned down 
so her ear was closer to the child's mouth. 

“When we walked into the house, he said the surprise was in the bedroom.
Mrs. Larson, I didn't want to go in there.” Rebecca bumped her head 
with her teacher's as she turned to glance into Sherry's eyes to see if 
she believed Rebecca or not. 

“I'm sure you didn't, Honey.” Sherry peered into Rebecca's eyes and saw
fear at having done something wrong. “It's okay. He can't hurt you 
now.” 

“I told him I wanted to go home. I said I wasn't special after all and
didn't want to be. He laughed and said it was too late. He grabbed me 
by the waist and carried me into a bedroom.” Rebecca's little body 
trembled and she started to cry. 

Sherry knew she had to cry to get the horror out of her. That was the
first step in healing a wound. You had to lance it open, drain out the 
bad, so you could cover it with medicine and let it heal. 

“I've got you, Sweetheart. You're safe.” Sherry crooned to the little
girl. 

“He threw me on the bed and lay on top of me. He told me how beautiful I
was as he tore my shirt off. He played with my chest and told me I 
would become a woman someday. That I would have breast men would love 
to play with and he wished I had them now. But he liked being the first 
to touch me in places. He licked my chest and kissed me on the neck. I 
didn't like it, but I liked being loved by him. I liked he thought I 
was special.” Rebecca could see it in her head and was reminded of the 
sense of being loved. 

“He pulled his shirt off and rubbed his chest to mine and asked if it
felt good. I didn't say anything. He hit me in the head and told me to 
tell him yes that it felt good. It hurt, but I did what he told me to 
so he wouldn't do it again. He told me to tell him every time he did 
something new.” Rebecca leaned back into her teacher's chest and wanted 
to die there. It was enough going through it the first time. This was 
worse because she had to tell someone she liked that a bad man hurt 
her. 

“Poor baby.” Sherry whispered to the child as she hugged tighter. It
wasn't sympathy she felt for this child, it was empathy because they 
had gone through the same thing. 

“He had to lean up to get our pants and underwear off. I tried to run,
but he yanked my arm.” Moving out of her teacher's arms, Rebecca pulled 
up her long sleeve shirt to show Mrs. Larson the bruise. “He said if I 
tried to run again it wouldn't be my arm he hurt. I was scared because 
I didn't know what he meant by that and I didn't want to ask.” 

“Of course you didn't.” Sherry didn't think she had ever known the true
meaning of the word hate until now. Even though she felt it for years 
against her own abuser, this was different because this little girl 
didn't deserve it. She deserved happiness, smiles, and beautiful 
rainbows in her life. Not the nightmares which haunted Sherry for long 
after the abuse stopped. 

“He took his pants and underwear off and put me back on the bed. He was
gentler this time, but I was still scared. I started to cry and he hit 
me in the stomach with his fist. I screamed really loud. He said he was 
sorry he had to hurt me, but I had to learn my place. He said to tell 
him I was sorry for crying. I didn't know what else to do.” Rebecca's 
little eyes were wild with the terror she had lived through. 

“I know, Sweetie.” Sherry kissed her on the forehead and buried
Rebecca's face into her chest for a second. “Oh how I know!” 

“I can't breathe.” Rebecca mumbled from Sherry's blouse. 

Sherry turned her loose and let her sit back. 

“He sat on my chest and put his thingy up to my mouth. He told me to
open up and kiss it. His hair tickled my nose and his thingy made me 
want to throw up. He told me if I threw up on him that he would kill 
me. I don't know if he it meant it or not.” Rebecca swallowed hard 
remembering the threat. 

“He kept growing bigger and bigger. He pulled out of my mouth and took
off my pants and panties. He licked me and told me to tell him how good 
he was at it. I kept moving away from his mouth and he would tell me 
what a good girl I was to enjoy it. I guess he didn't like it too much 
because he got up soon.” Rebecca refused to look at her favorite 
teacher while she told the next part. 

“When he was on top of me again, he stuck his thingy in me. It hurt so
badly and he was so heavy on top of me. I felt like I was dying because 
I couldn't breathe. He kept pushing it in and then taking it out. 
Finally he made a noise and fell on top of me. He left me there all by 
myself. I got dressed and went home.” Rebecca was sobbing by this time 
and it was hard to understand her. Sherry knew what the little girl was 
saying from first hand experience. 

“See.” Sherry hated herself for what she was about to ask, but she had
to reassure the little girl it was okay to tell her story. “Doesn't 
getting it out make you feel a little better?” 

“Maybe.” With tears streaming down her face, Rebecca looked at her
teacher and saw she was crying too. 

“I need to call your mother and you need to tell her exactly what you
told me.” Sherry hugged the girl to her. “Do you think you can do 
that?” 

“Maybe.” Not wanting too, but wanting to please her teacher, Rebecca
responded to the question the only way she knew how. By being evasive. 

“Okay, then let me call her before you change your mind.” Sherry stood
them both up. 

“Before we do.” Rebecca had to know something, tugged on her teacher's
leg. “What happened to the little girl in the story?” 

“Do you promise not to tell anyone I told you?” Sherry knew she could
trust the child and wanted to scare Rebecca with what could happen to 
her if she kept this awful secret to herself. 

“Is it bad?” Grabbing Sherry's hand, Rebecca asked. 

Sherry knelt down in front of the child and looked deep into her eyes.
“The girl went through life allowing people to use her body for their 
own pleasures. She felt like she wasn't worth a hill of beans and was 
loved if she let them do it. She slept with her brother, and a couple 
friends on a dare. She allowed her cousins to abuse her. She even 
sexually played with a friend of hers to make the girl like her.” 
Sherry had to take a breath to continue. 

“Any man she met, and if she thought they were attractive, Sherry would
throw herself at them. Some would take on the offer and some would 
reject her. She was raped at fourteen and again at eighteen because of 
this. Even though she said no, they thought she meant yes because she 
carried it too far.” It killed Sherry to tell this precious child the 
horrors of her life. But if Rebecca learned from it, then it was worth 
every thing Sherry went through to be able to tell this child her 
story. 

“She grew to thrive on the rejection. If she wasn't tossed aside by a
man, she didn't feel loved. She married the first man who asked her, 
and thought she loved. She divorced him five years later when he 
cheated on her. He told her after the divorce he popped the question so 
she would sleep with him. He never thought she would say yes.” Sherry 
can see the pity in the little girl's eyes and hated it. 

“Love scared her to death. She dreaded doing it again, so she married a
man whom she couldn't love just to be safe. She remained broken and 
bruised for years and never paid attention to it.” 

“She never fell in love again?” Rebecca felt so sorry for the little
girl to have lived a horrible life after such a horrible childhood. 

“She did.” Sherry smiled thinking about the man she loved. “But she
knows it's not going to last. Nothing in her life ever has. She's just 
waiting for the other shoe to fall and him walk out the door to prove 
she's never been lovable.” 

“But,” Rebecca was a skeptic. “What about the fairy tale ending? Doesn't
anyone ever save the little girl?” 

“No, Sweetie.” Sherry knelt down to put her hands on the child's
shoulder and told Rebecca the truth she needed to hear. “Rebecca life 
isn't a fairy tale. We don't have happy ending unless we make them that 
way our self. We can't depend on someone else making us happy. We can 
be happy with someone else, but true happiness is only found inside.” 

“What about love?” Rebecca didn't want to believe what she was hearing.
“Didn't anyone ever love the little girl?” 

“When she finally found true love,” Again thinking about the man she
loved, Sherry felt tears fill her eyes. “Sherry couldn't have it. It 
was beyond her grasp. She had to settle for what she could get and be 
happy with it. Sherry knew the life she dreamed of at your age, was 
just that. A fantasy inside her own head. That's how true life is, 
Sweetie. We don't always get what we want.” 

“That's so sad.” Rebecca hugged her teacher. She didn't want this kind
of life for herself. 

Sherry cried thinking about her life and what it wasn't. Here she was
supposed to be comforting her student and now the student was consoling 
her. No matter what life brought for this child, Sherry hoped it 
wouldn't be what it brought her. 

“I love you, Mrs. Larson.” Rebecca told her teacher and met it with all
her heart. After hearing the end of the story, she would tell her 
mother what had happened. She wanted to grow up and prove her teacher 
wrong. There was love and happiness out there, Rebecca believed. If 
there wasn't, then what she went through would be for nothing and she 
wasn't going to let that happen. 

“I love you too, Rebecca.” Sherry dried her eyes and laughed at the
child. “Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” Rebecca went to the sink and washed her face and
hands. Thinking about what started this, she glanced back at her 
teacher. “What about the bleeding?” 

“Check it now.” Sherry went over to hold the stall's door open for the
child. “I bet it's stopped.” 

Rebecca rushed into the stall and closed the door. She dreaded pulling
down her panties, but she had to know. 

“YES!” She yelled when she didn't see any fresh blood. Rebecca yanked up
her underwear and ran out of the stall. 

“Guess what?” She grinned at her teacher. 

“What?” Knowing the answer, but wanting to give the child her moment to
shine Sherry laughed at the pure joy shining on Rebecca's face. 

“I'm not dying.” Rebecca did a little jig as she sang the words. 

“I told you so.” Sherry continued to laugh as she watched the little
girl become a child again. She had enough of being a grown up today. 
Sherry would tell her mother what Rebecca told her and request she 
didn't bombard her with questions today. It could wait. The first 
telling was the hardest. It would get easier in time. 

“Can we call my Mom now?” Rebecca wanted to be brave and strong. Not
just for her teacher, but for herself. 

“Let's go.” Sherry opened out the door with the child in tow. 

A group of students was coming in from a field trip. The sunlight hit
her in the face. Sherry breathed a deep breath and felt the first 
stirring of promised rainbows in her own life. Maybe the day wasn't as 
dark as she believed it was. And maybe her life didn't have to end like 
she thought it would. Nothing was guaranteed in life. You had to hope 
for the best and love for the sear joy of loving. Sherry was bound and 
determined to start doing that today. 

© November 17, 2008 by Lori 


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