Children's Story: "Mommy, What's Abuse?"

Jeffie

by CJ Heck

When Hannah Hobbes got home from school, she looked for Mommy. Mommy was putting clean dishes away in the kitchen cupboard, so Hannah plopped herself into one of the four chairs at the round oak table. "Hi Mommy. I'm home."

Claira Hobbes stopped what she was doing. She looked over at her pretty six-year-old daughter. Hannah was usually a bright and bubbly little girl -- almost always wearing a cheerful smile which brought the cutest two dimples right along with it.

Today, Claira could see right away that there was something wrong. "Hello Hannah-Banana. Everything okay today at school?"

With all that had happened today, Hannah couldn't help herself. She started to cry. Her jumbled words all came out at once. "I was talking to Janie at school today. Mommy, Janie was so sad and it made me feel sad, too. She's staying with her grandma and grampa because her mommy is in the hospital.

Oh, Mommy! Janie said policemen came and took her daddy to jail! When the policemen took her to her grandma's house, she heard them whispering the word 'abuse'.”

Hannah stopped talking and took a deep breath. She was feeling just awful and the tears kept making little rivers down her cheeks. To make things worse, her nose was crying, too, and she swiped at it with her sleeve.

Claira sat down in the chair next to Hannah at the table and handed her a tissue. Then slowly, she patted her lap. Hannah saw and climbed up on mommy's lap. She really needed one of those special mommy-hugs right now.

Feeling safe inside the hug, Hannah asked, "Mommy, what's abuse?"

Claira gave her a gentle squeeze and laid her cheek on her daughter's soft brown hair. "Well, honey, abuse is a very bad thing. That's when someone who is bigger, or stronger, or older, hurts someone else. It can be words that hurt, or actions that hurt. Sometimes it's someone they love, and that makes it hurt even more."

Hannah might have felt safe, but she also felt confused. She didn't understand, and the tears kept coming. "Janie's very upset. She told me her mommy and daddy might get a divorce. I've been over there lots of times. Her daddy and mommy act happy. Don't they love each other any more?"

Claira thought for a moment. This was a grown-up situation and she wished it hadn't touched Hannah‘s life, but it had. She had to find a way to explain this. "Hannah, people can love each other and still not be good for each other. Do you understand?"

Hannah sniffled and shook her head in a great big ‘NO‘. "This is too hard. I don't understand! Janie said they get angry and shout a lot. She said sometimes her daddy hurts her mommy, but then he's always sorry. Then things are okay again. Janie says they're happy and she doesn't want them to get a divorce."

"I know, sweet girl. I’m sure Janie doesn’t want them to get a divorce. Please listen to me, honey. Hurting someone you love is always wrong. Janie has lived with it all of her life. To Janie, that is what seems normal, but only because she doesn't have anything else to compare it with."

Claira saw Hannah was hurting inside. She just had to find some way to help her understand. Then she spotted Hannah's dog, Jeffie, all curled up in a ball and fast asleep on the rag rug by the kitchen sink. Claira's breath caught in her throat. She suddenly knew how to make it easier for Hannah to understand.

"Hannah, let‘s talk about Jeffie. We've had Jeffie for a long time, even longer than we've had you. You really love that old dog, don‘t you?"

Hannah sniffled, but she couldn't help but smile, too. Jeffie was a great dog! He was her best friend in the whole world. She told him all of her secrets -- and she knew his secrets, too. He didn't like broccoli or spinach either, and he really wasn't too happy when she gave him her spaghetti, but ...

Mommy interrupted her thoughts by asking, "Hannah, how would you feel if you came home from school one day and Jeffie didn’t run up to you and lick your face, wagging his tail and his whole body right along with it? What if Jeffie showed his teeth and growled at you?"

Hannah stopped crying just long enough to giggle a little at the silliness. "Mommy, Jeffie loves me. He would never do that." Hannah tried to sniff her nose tears back inside and Claira handed her another clean tissue from the green box on the table.

Claira went on to ask, "But what if he did bare his teeth and growl at you? What do you think you would you do?"

Hannah‘s big blue eyes looked up at the ceiling. Why is Mommy asking such silly things about Jeffie? "Mommy, If he did THAT, I would tell him to stop!"

Claira paused, thinking about Hannah‘s answer. Now she knew what to ask next. "And what if that didn't work, Hannah? What if Jeffie growled some more, maybe even louder? What if he even tried to bite you?"

Hannah couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Then I would yell at him. I would yell at him and say JEFFIE, NO! STOP!"

This was working, Claira thought to herself. Then she asked, "Okay. But what if it only made him madder and he DID bite you?"

Hannah answered, "Then I would want to hurt him for biting me, but I know you're not supposed to do that. We would probably have daddy put him in a cage so he couldn't bite any more. Or maybe, we could take him to a place where people teach dogs that biting is bad."

Claira smiled to herself. Yes! This was working. "Excellent answer, Hannah. How long do you think that would take?"

Hannah thought for a minute, her mouth squinching to one side and then the other in deep concentration. "Well, until he stopped biting, I guess."

Then Claira took it a step further. "What if he decided not to stop biting? What if Jeffie hurt you very badly? What if he hurt you so bad that you had to go to the hospital?"

"I don't know, Mommy. I don't know!” Hannah's voice rose louder. “I don't want to think about that! He would stop biting. I love Jeffie and he loves me, too. I know he would stop. I know he would."

The thought that Jeffie would ever hurt her brought fresh tears to Hannah’s eyes and she mopped at them with her already damp tissue, trying to catch them as they slid down her cheeks.

Claira gave Hannah another hug, then handed her a fresh tissue. "Yes, Hannah. Jeffie could learn to stop biting, but he would have to be willing to learn how very wrong it is to hurt someone you love."

Suddenly Hannah’s eyes opened wide. She understood what Mommy was trying to say. It was all making sense to her now. Mommy was showing her that what happened with Janie's daddy was just like the story about Jeffie. "Mommy? When Janie's daddy hurt her mommy, the jail is like Jeffie's cage, right?"

"That's right, Hannah," Claira answered, giving Hannah a gentle squeeze.

"And Mommy, Janie’s daddy really could go somewhere and learn how not to do that any more, right?"

"Right again, Hannah."

Hannah quietly nodded her head in understanding. Then Hannah sighed. "Well, I hope he decides to learn. Then he won't have to be in jail and he could go home again. Then they wouldn't have to get a divorce. I don't want Janie to live like that. Janie's my friend and I want her to be happy."

Claira smiled, feeling proud of her six year-old. She wiped the last of Hannah's tears off with her apron. "I love you, little Hannah-Banana," she said with another mommy-hug. "You're a very smart little girl."

"I love you, too, Mommy," and with a smile in return, Hannah wiped her nose with her sleeve and hopped down to go wake Jeffie from his nap.

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

Preschool Short Story: The Little Umbrella

A Town Like Your Town

by CJ Heck

I know a little town like your town. It has a little main street just like a lot of main streets, and a little store not too different from a lot of little stores.

The owner of the store was a kind and gentle man named Pop Starr. Pop was a good man, and all the people in the little town knew and loved him.

Pop's little store had a lot of things on a lot of shelves for people to buy. This is a story about one very special thing in Pop's store.

In the back of his little store, Pop had built a special little room just for toys. Boys and girls loved going into the little toy room. They gazed in awe and wonder at all the colorful toys on the shelves that reached all the way up to forever -- well, almost, but not exactly.

The children spent many hours wishing for the things they saw in Pop's little toy room. Even Santa Claus had heard about the little toy room, in the little store, on the little street, in the little town.

Now, I told you that, so I could tell you this ...

Way up high on the top shelf in the toy room was a little umbrella. The umbrella had been there for such a long time, maybe forever ... but it had been there so long that it was covered by a thick layer of dust. It was a sad umbrella and it was also very lonely.

Every day, the little umbrella looked down from its shelf at the toys in the toy room. It had never seen such wonderful colors!

How it wished it could be so bright and so beautiful. What a joy it would be to wear one of the colors it saw on the spinning tops, the rubber balls, and the bright red fire engines!

The little umbrella wanted to be like the airplanes the children played with in Pop's little toy room, zooming up-down-up and high into the sky. It would be so exciting to feel the wind blowing above and below its wings.

What a wonderful thing to be -- what an important job to have!

The little umbrella felt so alone on its shelf. It longed to be held and loved, just like one of the pretty dolls the little girls hugged and talked to in Pop's toy room.

What a wonderful thing to be! What an important job to have!

Hour after hour, day after day, year after year, it watched all of the children come into the little toy room to play with the toys. The little umbrella dreamed that someday it, too, would be needed just like the people needed old Pop Starr who owned the little store, on the little street, in the little town.

Now, I told you that, so I could tell you this ...

The Storm Cloud

One day, a huge and terrible storm cloud came. It kept the sun from shining on the little town and outside, it became very dark.  

A horrible wind began to blow and the rain came down hard and everything it touched was soaked.

The storm brought thunder with its powerful booms and lightning that lit up the sky forever -- well, almost, but not exactly.

Pop stood and watched it all happen from the little window in his little store on the little street in the little town.

Suddenly, the door opened and the little bell hanging above it jingled. A woman rushed into the store holding the hand of a small child. Both of them were out of breath and both were soaked from the falling rain.

Now, old Pop knew just about everyone who lived in the little town, but he didn't know the woman and her small child. He welcomed them in out of the storm with his kind and gentle smile, a warm hello, and two warm and dry towels.

Holding hands

The woman told Pop that her car had run out of gas just down the street from his store. They walked to the gas station, filled their gas can, and they were on their way back to the car when the storm began.

She told him they were glad to find Pop's store, but they were in a hurry to get home to their own little street in another little town far, far away from here.

Now, I told you that, so I could tell you this ...

Kind old Pop scratched his head and thought for a minute. Then, with a big smile, he walked to the back and into the little toy room of the little store on the little street in the little town.

From the top step on his ladder, Pop reached high up to the very top shelf and searched around with his fingers. He finally found exactly what he was looking for.  Pop brought down the little umbrella.

He brushed off the years of dust and, with a twinkle in his eye, took his gift to the woman and her small child.
The joy in giving and the joy in receiving went around and around. Everyone was happy.

The woman and her small child thanked Pop for his kindness. Then they said goodbye to the kind and gentle man in the little store on the little street in the little town. Then they stepped back outside into the wind and the rain and opened the little umbrella.

Now, I told you that, so I could tell you this ...

The little umbrella was so surprised! It had left its lonely home high on the top shelf in the little toy room! It felt so needed.

"OH MY!" Cried the small child. "What a beautiful umbrella! Mommy, it has every color in the world!"

Happy Little Umbrella

"Could it be true?" Wondered the little umbrella.

Then, finally able to see himself without the thick layer of dust, he exclaimed, "Green, blue, red, purple, orange, yellow! Oh my!  Just look at my colors! I am as beautiful as all of the toys in the little toy room!"

As the little umbrella was opened, it went up, Up, UP! The wind rushed across and over and  under!  It was such a wonderful feeling! The little umbrella thought, "Oh my! I'm feeling just like the airplanes in the little toy room!"

Then, just when the little umbrella thought it couldn't possibly be any happier, the very BEST thing happened. It felt love and a need to protect the mother and the small child who were holding onto its handle.

The little umbrella knew it was keeping the rain off of them and it felt proud. It was a wonderful feeling.

This was an important thing to be! This was a very special job to have!

So, the little umbrella from high on the top shelf in the little toy room, in the little store, on the little street, in the little town was very happy -- not almost, but exactly.

Now, I told you that, so I could tell you this ...

The little umbrella had learned something very important. It didn't have to wish to be anyone else. It was already perfect ... just the way it was.


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck