If she thinks I'm cool...

This week Jeffrey came home crying after playing with his friends at one of the neighbors houses. I heard him come through the door and he could barely catch his breath through the sobs. One friend had told him to shut up, leading the others to follow suit and apparently it was more than he could take.

He replayed it all again before he went to bed that night. 'I don't have any friends left,' he cried, 'they don't think I'm cool.' We assured him that we thought he was the coolest kid we knew, for reasons A through Z. Still, not overly impressed. We then began to list others that loved him, Grandma and Grandpa... he stopped us midsentence... and Chantel, he said. 'Chantel thinks I am supercool and she is going to give me pictures of her brain for my Great Brain project and she thinks I am handsome.' And suddenly all seemed right with the world. Friends? Who needs em. Mom and Dad? They're alright. Chantel, on the other hand? Well, if she thinks I'm cool then I must be.

Isn't that kind of amazing? The power of that one small conversation. We were over at Chantel's days ago when she promised him pictures of her brain, wished him luck at his first day of school, told him he was handsome. And he remembered it. Sometimes just a few kind words from somebody that doesn't have to say anything can make all the difference. So nice.