Fw: No Thorns

[Guest guest]

Got this from another list, Its so sweet, I had to pass it on. Get out your

Kleenex.

love,

>

>> > The Rose With No Thorns

>> > >

>> >

>> > A young man carrying a guitar case boarded the afternoon

>> > school bus at Maple Street. Obviously ill at ease,

>> > he found a seat, placed the guitar on end beside him

>> > in the aisle, and help it upright with his arm.

>> > He looked around anxiously, then hung his head and began

>> > shuffling his feet back and forth on the floor of the bus.

>> >

>> > watched him. She didn't know who he was,

>> > but from his looks she decided he must be a real loser.

>> >

>> > s's friend Kathy looked up from her book.

>> > " Wouldn't you know it? Crazy Carl again. "

>> >

>> > " Who's Crazy Carl? " s asked, tossing her sunnny hair.

>> >

>> > " Don't you know your next-door neighbor? "

>> >

>> > " Next-door neighbor? The Bells moved into that house.

>> > We met them the day we left on spring vacation. "

>> >

>> > " Well, that's his name, Carl Bell. "

>> >

>> > The bus rolled on under the big trees along Elm Street.

>> > Kathy and stared at the newcomer and his big guitar case.

>> >

>> > When the driver called out " Sycamore, " the new boy awkwardly

>> > picked up his case and got off. It was s's stop, too,

>> > but she didn't budge. When the bus started again she rang

>> > for the next corner. " See you, Kathy. "

>> >

>> > ran home, up the steps and through the front door.

>> > she called out, " Mom does that weirdo live next door? "

>> >

>> > Her mother came into the hall from the kitchen.

>> > " , you must not refer to anyone as weirdo.

>> > Yes, the Bells have a handicapped son. This morning I called

>> > Mrs. Bell, and she told me about Carl. He has never been

>> > able to speak. He has a congenital heart defect and a nervous disorder.

>> They

>> > have a private tutor for him, and he is taking

>> > guitar lessons to help improve his coordination. "

>> >

>> > " Just the pits! Right next door! " exclaimed.

>> >

>> > " He's a shy boy. You must be neighborly.

>> > Just say hello when you see him. "

>> >

>> > " But he rides the school bus, and the kids laugh at him. "

>> >

>> > " See that you don't, " her mother advised.

>> >

>> > It was a week before Carl boarded the bus again.

>> > thought he recognized her. Grudgingly, she said hello.

>> > Some of the other kids started whispering and making

>> > jokes. Pretty soon spit wads were flying.

>> >

>> > " Settle down! " the driver yelled. Carl shuffled his feet.

>> > Each time a spit wad hit him he twitched.

>> > When his guitar clattered to the floor, the driver again

>> > admonished them to settle down- this time with a warning

>> > tone in his voice. The bus grew quiet but the fun didn't stop.

>> > The boys seated behind Carl started blowing on the back

>> > of his head, making his hair stand up.

>> >

>> > They thought it was funny.

>> >

>> > When Sycamore Street cam into view Carl jumped up,

>> > rang the bell, put the guitar strap over his shoulder

>> > and headed for the door. The guitar case swung wide,

>> > hitting Chuck on the neck. Carl rushed toward

>> > the door with his case still crosswise in the aisle.

>> > When Chuck caught up and took a swing at him,

>> > the shoulder strap tore loose and the case slid down the

>> > steps into the gutter. Carl stumbled off the bus and ran

>> > down the street, leaving his guitar behind

>> >

>> > sat glued to her seat. " I'm never getting off

>> > there again. " she said to Kathy. Once again she waited

>> > until the next corner before getting off, then retraced

>> > the block back to Sycamore. The open case still lay in

>> > the gutter. She walked past it and headed toward home.

>> > What a character! she thought. What did I ever do to deserve

>> > him for a neighbor?

>> >

>> > But by the time had gone half a block, her conscience bothered

>> her

>> > for leaving Carl's guitar where anyone could pick it up. She turned

back

>> to

>> > get it. Both the handle and the strap

>> > on the case were broken, so she had to carry it in her arms

>> > with her books. Why am I doing this? she wondered.

>> > Then she remembered how terrible it had been when

>> > everybody laughed at him.

>> >

>> > Mrs. Bell opened the door before could knock.

>> > " , I am so glad to see you! What happened?

>> > Carl was so upset he went straight to his room, "

>> > she said, laying the case on a chair.

>> >

>> > " It was just an accident. "

>> > didn't want to alarm her with the whole story.

>> > " Carl left his guitar. I thought I should bring it. "

>> >

>> > Carl didn't ride the bus after that. His parents drove him

>> > to and from guitar lessons. saw him only when he

>> > worked in his rose garden.

>> >

>> > Life should have gone more smoothly, but kids still

>> > pestered him. They hung around his yard, threw acorns at

>> > him and chanted, " Crazy Carl, the banjo king, takes music

>> > lessons and can't play a thing. "

>> >

>> > One hot day as Carl relaxed on the grass with a soft drink,

>> > the kids came and started their chant. glanced

>> > out her window just in time to see the soda bottle shatter

>> > on the sidewalk at their feet.

>> >

>> > The next day at school Kathy said,

>> > " Did you hear about Crazy Carl cutting those kids

>> > with a broken bottle? "

>> >

>> > " No wonder, " said, " the way they keep after him. "

>> >

>> > " Whose side are you on? " Kathy fired back.

>> >

>> > " I'm not choosing sides, but I heard them bugging him. "

>> >

>> > " Bet you two hold hands over the fence, "

>> > Kathy said sarcastically.

>> >

>> > At noon in the cafeteria line a classmate teased ,

>> > " If you're asking Crazy Carl to go with you to the banquet,

>> > I'll be glad to take Jim off your hands. "

>> >

>> > Before the day was over, somedody wrote on the blackboard,

>> > " loves Crazy Carl. "

>> >

>> > managed to keep her poise just long enough to

>> > get home. She ran in the door and burst into tears.

>> > " Mom, I told you it was the pits having a weirdo next door.

>> > I hate him. " She told her mother what happened at school.

>> >

>> > " It hurts when your friends turn on you, "

>> > said, " and for nothing.! "

>> > Then she thought of something she hadn't considered before.

>> > " Carl must have cried lots of times. "

>> >

>> > " I'm sure, " her mother agreed.

>> >

>> > Why do I feel so mean about Carl? she wondered.

>> > Or maybe I don't. Maybe I just think I'm supposed to

>> > because everybody else does.

>> >

>> > " Sometimes, Mom, I don't do my own thinking. "

>> > wiped her eyes.

>> > " Jim's comeing over. I have to wash my hair. "

>> > She ran upstairs.

>> >

>> > On the last day of school, came home early.

>> > Carl was in his rose garden. When he saw her, he clipped

>> > a rose and went to the gate to wait. greeted him

>> > with here usual hello. He held out the rose. As she

>> > reached for it, he put up his other hand to delay her,

>> > and started breaking off the thorns. He pricked his finger

>> > frowned a moment, wiped the blood on his shirt sleeve,

>> > and continued breaking off the thorns.

>> >

>> > Tonight was the banquet, and wanted to get home

>> > and be sure her clothes were ready. But she stood and waited.

>> >

>> > Carl handed her the rose with no thorns.

>> > " Thank you, Carl. Now I won't stick my fingers, "

>> > she said, in an effort to interpret his thoughts.

>> > Touched by his childlike grin, she patted his cheek,

>> > thanked him again and walked on home.

>> > At the door she looked back. Carl was still standing there

>> > holding his hand agianst the cheek she had touched.

>> >

>> > One week later Carl died of congestive heart failure.

>> > After the funeral, the Bells went away for a while.

>> >

>> > One day a letter came from Mrs. Bell.

>> > There was a special note for .

>> >

>> > Dear ,

>> >

>> > I think Carl would have liked you to have this last page from his

diary.

>> We

>> > encouraged him to write at least one sentence a day.

>> > Most days there was little good to write.

>> >

>> > Mr. Bell and I want to thank you for being his

>> > friend- the only youthful friend he ever had.

>> >

>> > Our love, Carla Bell

>> >

>> > Carl's last words:

>> > Mlanee is rose wit no torns.

>> >

>> >

>> >