“Stop!”
Jesse jumped out and scooped up something white and fluffy before the car came to a complete stop.
No tears. No dirt. Truly a gift from above.
***
That night, my husband placed in my arms an unbelievable surprise.
I held a soft white teddy bear wearing a red Christmas dress with a get-well card that said, “To Sparky. Love and Hugs, Cheryl.”

Two years ago, I gifted my friend with this pristine bear. Now I look into These giant sparkling eyes and hear a whisper from above, “Hey Girl, I’m here, and I love you right back.”

Ten years ago, Dad washed his hands of me because I made a bad choice. I still kept in touch with Mom and my brother, and they begged me to come home because, thanks to cancer, Dad would die soon. Now, here I was, in front of my parents’ house, where I’d found, on the sidewalk, one of the first eight-track cartridges Dad gave me, along with the player, in 1969. It was time.

A $20 bill lay on the sidewalk as we came out of the Chinese buffet.
Kevin bent down and picked it up. “Thanks, Aunt Gloria,” he said. “You just treated us to lunch.”
Despite my sadness, I laughed. Aunt Gloria passed away a few days earlier. We had gone to her funeral that morning.
She was Dad’s only sister and so wonderful. She was now our guardian angel.

By Trish Hubschman
Author of the Tracy Gayle mystery series
http://www.dldbooks.com/hubschman/

The young twenties couple walked companionably side by side along the sidewalk beside the park, talking occasionally, their dating relationship still casual. She stumbled, caught quickly by his steadying arms.

Concerned blue eyes looked down into her brown ones. She nodded as her cheeks reddened. A tree root protruding from a split in the sidewalk had caused the concrete on either side to rise and fall making a hump.

Once past the obstacle, she began to step forward. A strong, confident arm came around her waist to draw her close to his side. She smiled up at him.

Something glinted near my feet on the sidewalk and I stooped to look. It was a pin – Snoopy on skis. I felt sorry for the person who had lost it.

I heard someone sobbing, “I’ve looked everywhere.”

Another voice smirked, “It’s only a silly pin.”

“It’s more than that. Bill gave it to me the week he taught me to ski.” I turned and held the pin toward the crying girl.