• YOUR TRUE STORIES •

BLUE LAUNDRY

Twenty-three years ago, I became a firefighter’s wife. I was told that it was going to be tough, but no one told me about the blue laundry. Tons of blue laundry, saturated with the smell of smoke, sweat and other things. It seemed an endless cycle, year after year, he would bring home more blue shirts and blue pants and all I could say was “No! Not more blue laundry!” Then September 11th, 2001, happened. As we sat in the living room watching his firefighter brothers rushed into a flaming building, I turned to him and said, “Why would they run into that!” He turned to me and said simply, “Because that’s our job.” So that night as I put yet another load of blue laundry in the washing machine, I decided that maybe a little blue laundry was not such a big deal after all.

—Teri Jones Richfield, Ohio

THE QUALITY OF CIRCLES

Sitting on her mother’s lap, reading The Book of Shapes, my daughter came to the triangle page. “What’s this shape?” her mom asked. Wheels of cogitation began to spin (signified by a mouth scrunched to one side) and after a brief pause (and with the certainty of a jury foreman) she said, “A circle.” Mom asked her, “Are you sure?” (As she did whenever an answer was incorrect.) But my daughter, sensing that something was amiss, said, “Yep,” and then pausing, added, “but it’s not a very good one.”

—Bruce May Smyrna, Tennessee