Cau truyen y nghia

Em ÄÄng kà trang chicken soup for the soul và nhán ÄÆác nhiáu cÃu
truyán cà à nghÄa lám.Hix, nhÆng trang nÃy cÃn khuyán mái thÃm 1 
lác
thÆ quáng cÃo. Em tháy cÃu truyán nÃy rát à nghÄa, nhÃn dáp 
Äáu xuÃn
post lÃn, nhà mÃnh ai biát tiáng anh thà nghe nhÃ. ThÃng Äiáp 
cáa CÃu
truyán là hÃy yÃu thÆÆng và khÃng ngáng yÃu thÆÆng và Äáng 
chán
chá,hÃy Äá ngÆái thÃn cáa mÃnh biát bán yÃu há.
A Piece of Chalk
By Holly Smeltzer

     In our home it was natural to fear our father.  Even our mother
was afraid of him.  As children, my sister and I thought every family
was like that.  Every family had an unpredictable dad who was
impossible to please and a praying mama who was there to protect the
children.  We thought God planned it that way.
     We were good children.  Mama was always telling us we were, even
if Daddy couldn't see it.  Part of this was because we dared not do
anything.  We were quiet, timid children who rarely spoke, especially
never when Daddy was home.  People thought God had blessed Mama with
the sweetest girls.  She was always so proud.
     Then came the day we found something new and fun to do.  It
wouldn't upset anyone; we'd never take the risk of doing that.  We
discovered we could draw pictures with chalk on our wooden front door,
and it would rub right off.  We could have lots of fun, so we set to
work drawing and making lots of pretty pictures all over it.  We had a
great time.  It surprised us to see how talented we were.  We decided
to finish our masterpiece, knowing Mama would just love it.  She would
want all her friends to come and see it, and maybe they would want us
to do their doors, too.
     The praise we expected did not come.  Instead of seeing the
obvious beauty in our work, all Mama could see was the time and effort
she would need to clean it off.  She was mad.  We did not understand
why, but we knew all about anger, and we were in big trouble!
     Off we ran to find a place to hide.  In our wooded yard it was
not hard for two small children to find safety.  Together, we huddled
behind a tree and did not move.  Soon we heard the frightened voices
of Mom and our neighbors calling out to us.  Still we did not budge. 
They were afraid we had run away or drowned in the pond out back.  We
were afraid of being found.
     The sun set, and it began to get dark.  Those around us became
more anxious, and we became more frightened.  Time was slipping by,
and the longer we hid there, the harder it was to come out.  Mom was,
by now, convinced something awful had happened to us, and she resorted
to calling the police.  We could hear all the voices drawn together in
a group.  Then the search was on again, this time with strong male
voices overpowering the others.  If we were frightened before, now we
were terrified!
     As we clung together in the dark, we became aware of yet another
voice, one we instantly recognized with horror: our daddy.  But there
was something strangely different about it.  In it we heard something
we had never heard before: fear, agony and despair.  We couldn't put a
name to it then, but that's what it was.  Then came his prayers, tears
and prayers intermingled together.
     Was that our daddy on his knees pleading with God?  Our daddy
with tears running down his face, promising God that he would give his
life to him if he would safely return his girls?
     Nothing in our lives had prepared us for this kind of shock. 
Neither of us remembers making a decision to come out.  We were drawn
to him like a magnet, our fears dissolving into the forest.  We don't
know yet if we actually took steps or if God somehow moved us out and
into Daddy's arms.  What we do remember are those strong, loving arms
holding us and crying, hugging us like we were precious.
     Things were different after that.  We had a new daddy.  It was
like the old one was buried that day in the forest.  God had taken him
and replaced him with another, one who loved us and was ever thankful
for us.
     Mama always told us that God was a God of miracles.  I guess she
was right.  He changed our whole family with a piece of chalk.
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