You never know when one simple action or kindness can make all the difference in a person’s life. How many times have you stood idly by while someone is being left out or made fun of?
You don’t want to dredge up mistakes of the past to shame someone into doing the right thing, but it’s important to remember the opportunities we all are given to make a difference every day.
The story below has been circulating the internet and holds an important message we all need to hear. When an 8-year-old was invited to a party by the new girl in class, she had no intention of going.
But at the insistence of her wise mom, her actions made all the difference for a girl that desperately needed it.
I’ll never forget the day Momma made me go to a birthday party. I was in Mrs. Black’s third grade class in Wichita Falls, Texas, and I brought home an unsightly peanut-buttery invitation. “I’m not going,” I said. “She’s a new girl named Ruth and Berniece and Pat aren’t going. She asked the whole class, all 36 of us.”
As momma studied the handmade invitation, she looked strangely sad. Then she announced, “Well you are going! I’ll pick up a present tomorrow.”
I couldn’t believe it. Momma had never made me goto a party! I was positive I’d just die if I had to go. But no amount of hysterics could sway Momma.
When Saturday arrived, Momma rushed me out of bed and made me wrap the pretty pink pearlized mirror brush-and-comb set she’d bought for $2.98.
She drove me over in her yellow and white 1950 Oldsmobile. Ruth answered the door and motioned me to follow her up the steepest, scariest staircase I’d ever seen.
Stepping through the door brought me great relief. The hardwood floors gleamed in the sun-filled parlor. Snow white doilies covered the backs and arms of the well worn over stuffed furniture.
The biggest cake I ever saw sat on one table. it was decorated with nine pink candles, a messily printed Happy Birthday Ruthey and what I think were supposed to be rosebuds.
Thirty six Dixie cups filled with homemade fudge were near the cake, each one with a name on it.
This won’t be too awful, once everyone gets here, I decided.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked Ruth.
Looking down at the floor, she said, “Well she’s sorta sick.”
“Oh. Where’s your dad?”
“He’s gone.”
Then there was a silence, except for a few raspy coughs from behind a closed door. Some 15 minutes passed… then 10 more. Suddenly the terrifying realization set in. No one else was coming. How could I get out of here? As I sank in to self-pity I heard muffled sobs. Looking up I saw Ruth’s tear streaked face. All at once my eight-year-old heart was overwhelmed with sympathy for Ruth and filled with rage at my 35 selfish classmates.
Springing to my white patent leather feet, I proclaimed at the top of my lings, “Who needs ’em?”
Ruth’s startled look changed to excited agreement.
There we were, two small girls and a triple decker cake, 36 candy filled Dixie cups, ice cream, gallons of red Kool-Aid, three dozen party favors, games to play and prizes to win.
We started with the cake. We couldn’t find any matches, and Ruthey (she was no longer just plain Ruth) wouldn’t disturb her mom, so we just pretended to light them. I sang “Happy Birthday” while Ruthey made a wish and blew out the imaginary flames.
In a flash it was noon. Momma was honking out front. Gathering up all my goodies and thanking Ruthey repeatedly, I dashed to the car. I was bubbling over.
“I won all the games! Well, really, Ruthey won Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but she said it wasn’t fair for the birthday girl to win a prize, so she gave it to me, and we split the party favors 50/50. Momma, she just loved the mirror set. I was the only one there out of Mrs. Black’s whole third grade class. And I can’t wait to tell every one of them what a great party they missed!”
Momma pulled over to the curb, stopped the car and hugged me tight. With tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m so proud of you!”
That was the day I learned that one person could really make a difference. I had made a big difference in Ruthey’s ninth birthday, and Momma had made a big difference in my life.
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