Girl Scout Cookies - The Miracle Of Love free porn video

Preface This is a story about the miracle of love, the ability of love to change things. Love has a power in this universe unparalleled by anything created by God, because love is the essence of God Himself. Love can change everything. It is both creative and transformative. What follows is in essence an extended parable. Of course, I do not believe that love changes the fabric of reality in the manner described below, but taken for its meaning, the story is about two siblings reaching out across the expanse and finding in common a transforming love that changes them both. I do believe that love can do in heart what it does here literally, and it can lead properly-minded people to change. This is essential to the Gospel, that the eternal, living love of God can form someone in the person of Christ. I write this as someone undergoing that transformation, and I hope I have imbued this rambling narrative with some essence of this power which I write. Remember that the love we feel for each other, intense as it may be, is nothing in comparison to the love God feels for us, which is infinite and unconditional, and, even if we should do wrong, that love doesn't change. If the love Darrell has for Lindsey is powerful enough to reshape reality for everyone around him, how much more powerful is the infinite love of God? The second message is this: the love and faith of a child is strong and unconditional. We should have the love that Dar has for Lindsey for every person on this world, from your brother or sister to President Bush, John Kerry, Howard Dean, Mel Gibson, the Dixie Chicks, Ken Lay, Michael Moore. If we are all children of God, we are all brothers and sisters. I am, one should know, a Catholic who finds himself drawn to sites such as this. It is my cross, and long shall I bear it. God has taken what started out as a self-indulgent piece of fluff fiction and, while I was unaware, turn it into a self-indulgent piece of fluff fiction about sacrificial love. He gave a simple story about a teenager who regresses into a little girl meaning and purpose, turning an evil into what shall hopefully turn out to be a good. Love to each and every one of you, and hopefully, love from the same. God bless. *** Darrell loved his sister. This much need not be disputed, and for any of the following to make the slightest, most insignificant amount of sense, this must be accepted as fact, taken as truth, believed as much as one can believe anything in a story. Darrell loved his sister. Lindsey was about seven years younger than he, with his being sixteen while she remained nine. It's an odd separation, seven years: Darrell had memories of life without her, and the two were far enough apart to render much of a connection between the two nigh-on impossible. At least, that's how it seemed to Darrell. His sister lived in a world all her own, separate from his. While he was off in high school, she was a third-grader. The gap between them was vast and unbridgeable. Yet, Darrell loved his sister. Despite all that, he loved her. Now, you might say that this is how it's supposed to be, and this narrator would agree with you, but the love that a brother has for his sister is very powerful, especially in this case. Because Darrell and his sister lived on what might as well have been entirely different planets, his sense of her was exaggerated by lack of contact, and he tended to idealize her as an innocent, beautiful, playful little girl. All of these things were true, of course, but his love spun imaginings were quite exaggerated and, due to the separation in age between the two, he would probably never have the chance to be confronted with reality, and learn to love his sister as she really was. Darrell loved his sister, and wanted to be closer to her, but, again, the age thing was a bit of a problem. High schoolers don't hang out with third graders, and third graders don't hang out with high schoolers. The two share little common culture, and, in the case of Darrell and Lindsey, were only connected by common parents and residence. Again, though, as the age difference had a positive rather than detrimental effect on his love for his sister, Darrell desperately wanted to hang out with Lindsey. It's not that he envied girls or wanted to specifically be a part of his sister's clique, it's that he couldn't watch Lindsey play with Megan and Jessica without a strong sense of desire to be a part of that world, of her world. Darrell loved his sister, but he wasn't obsessed with her. No, not at all. He had his own friends, his own life, his own concerns. He had a girlfriend, too. Thinking about his sister occupied very little of his time unless he was directly confronted with his poor relationship with her, or there was some other problem involving her that kept him occupied, such as when she broke her arm two years earlier in a bike accident. No, Darrell was a normal, average, healthy young man who simply wanted to know his sister and be an active part of her young, carefree life. All of that would make you think that Darrell would have jumped at the opportunity to spend any amount of time with her, but this was generally not the case. Any time he spent with her generally involved him driving Lindsey and her friends around while their mom was at work supporting the two of them. What conversations he attempted with her during those times were stunted and awkward, as they had little or no common experience between them with which to relate. So, when his mom asked him to go help Lindsey sell cookies with Megan and Jessica - all three of them Girl Scouts - he was not as excited as one might expect. Basically, what needed doing was what his mom called "setup and supervision." Go down to the supermarket, set up the table and boxes, and sit there watching the girls sell, making sure it's all safe. Let the girls do their thing. Darrell didn't really want to do it, because Saturday tended to be his "don't do anything" day, but he knew how much Lindsey wanted to do it. So he did it, because she was his sister, and as much as they didn't know each other, that's still a powerful bond. The last thing he wanted was for Lindsey to be kidnapped or something. So, early Saturday, Darrell drove Lindsey, Jessica, and Megan down to the supermarket, set up the table, and sat down, watching the girls sell. They sold very well, he noted, and he was particularly impressed with the _volume_ of sales. Little girls with little selling experience were pushing cookies like nobody's business. He didn't know if it was because everyone loves Girl Scout cookies, or if the people found these little green-clad girls particularly adorable, or if his sister was somehow a master salesperson. He tended toward the first of those choices. So, Darrell sat there for about two hours as the girls did what girls do - sell cookies - until Lindsey came up to him. "What's wrong?" Darrell sat up with a start. He must have been daydreaming, and was surprised to see Lindsey over here, rather than selling her heart out. She asked again. "Darrell, what's wrong? You've been sitting there looking sad." "Nothing. Just tired. You know, you girls are really good at that." He gestured toward the cookies. Lindsey laughed. "I've been doing this for a few years. It's not that hard." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I think you could probably do it. Everyone loves these things." "Ha ha, no, Lindsey. Every box has to be accounted for, and I'm not a Girl Scout." "Mrs. Linney wouldn't mind if we told her you sold a few." Mrs. Linney, Megan's mom, was their den mother. The family had known the Linneys for years, and Lindsey was probably right about her not caring that a few boxes didn't count towards anybody's sales total, as long as the money made it to the right place, which is all that really mattered. "You think I could sell a box?" "'Course." She smiled a lovely little smile. "Who's gonna buy Girl Scout cookies from a sixteen year-old guy?" A wry smile from Lindsey. "I guess we're gonna find out." It was quite the scene, actually. Most people simply assumed that he was helping out his sister, and were perfectly willing to buy from him, especially considering Lindsey had adapted the shy, withdrawn look, sitting in Darrell's chair, feigning anxiety. Others didn't know what was going on, but also tended to be willing to buy the cookies. A few thought Darrell was out of his mind. But, when Darrell finally sat down and realized that he had functioned very well with Jessica and Megan in coordinating and selling these cookies, and that he'd pushed a relatively large number of boxes, he laughed. Then Lindsey laughed. Then Megan and Jessica laughed. It was quite the scene. The girls-plus-Darrell sold all the boxes with which they'd started. Darrell had, in fact, been one of the primary sellers, a feat which impressed both Lindsey and her friends. Neither Megan nor Jessica had spent much time with Darrell in the past, but both were eager to talk to him during the ride home. Darrell, for his part, humored the girls and had a bit of fun discussing the silly things third grade girls discuss; mean teachers, Spongebob Squarepants, what the activities were in the Scouts. They seemed quite insistent on bringing Darrell up to speed on what girls their age care about. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely bored with it. He found himself growing more and more interested as they spoke. His girlfriend, Sal, was waiting at his house for him when they all arrived. She commented that it was incredibly sweet that he was willing to help his sister out like that, looked up at him, and pecked his cheek. They went out to a movie - a midnight showing of _Fight Club_ down at the old theater - and when it was over, they left separately. Lindsey was bubbly on Monday night after she got back from her Scout meeting. Mrs. Linney, she said, was not only cool with Darrell selling boxes, was enthusiastic about it. She had wanted Lindsey to ask him if he'd be willing to come help out more often. Darrell, now, didn't have a lot of extracurricular activities, or a job. He actually was jumping at the idea; more chances to get to know Lindsey. That little cookie adventure had been a lot of fun, and he'd gotten to know his sister and her friends better during it. If helping once had done so much, doing it more would do so much more. "Sure," Darrell said. "What's she need?" "Well, she could use help setting up the Sunday School classroom we meet in, and she might want you to sort of help run the meetings. Would that be ok?" All it means, Darrell thought, is losing one night a week to helping out your sister. More time to spend with her, see what's in her world. "Yeah, I'd be happy to." Lindsey smiled a beautiful smile, and bounded upstairs to change for bed. His mother walked in and told him how happy she was to see her kids getting along so well. There had never been tension, but spending time together was a big reversal from their previous habits. Over the next week, Lindsey started swinging by his room to tell him all about the Girl Scouts, and later, on, to do her homework with him. He quietly reveled in the newfound camaraderie he had found in his sister, and when Jessica and Megan came over that Friday, they begged him to play with them. He acquiesced, turned off his Game Boy Advance SP (with the rockin' toplight), and joined them, uncertain of what exactly they were playing. Turned out it was Barbies. How did I know, he thought. He figured they wanted him to be Ken or something, and at first, yeah, they did. But then Lindsey, with a bit of a macabre streak, killed him off. Barbie and friends didn't seem to mind all that much, and Darrell ended up switching to one of Barbie's friends, the brunette. All they did, it seem was drive around and shop. Despite himself, Darrell was having fun, and really found the joy of the girls infectious, and got into his role as, at Lindsey's suggestion, Darlene. It helped to try and think like the girls. Monday came around, and he found himself driving Lindsey to the Girl Scout meeting. It was pretty much as Lindsey had said: he set up the room for Mrs. Linney, and then helped her watch the girls. There was singing and craftmaking and generally fun and friendliness. Girl Scouting looks like a lot of fun, he thought, as they began constructing things with popsicle sticks. So, this became part of the rhythm of his life: every Monday, he'd drive down with Lindsey and help watch the girls, and during the week, he'd play with her. His sister was really great fun to play with. She was very imaginative: in addition to playing with dolls, she would sort of pantomime objects that weren't there, playing with her mind. It was girl fare: boyfriends, being a mom, just stuff about growing up, stuff she didn't know about. Darrell started out playing the boyfriends, but since they're brother and sister, that ended, and he resumed his role as Darlene, Lindsey's friend in those games. Sometimes, she wanted to play dress up, but he would remind her that he was most certainly not her size. She would dejectedly agree before they eventually found something else to play. Sal (the girlfriend), who had been fairly omnipresent at Darrell's place, came over less and less because of all the time he spent with Lindsey, but she did come over, and would watch amusedly as brother and sister played together. She rarely participated, though, and spent little time alone with Darrell during her visits. But she still came, and enjoyed the time she spent. Darrell wasn't sure if it was all the time he was spending with Lindsey, but he found himself having lots of trouble at school. He wasn't a star pupil, but he did his work and he passed his classes. He grasped the concepts he was taught. It happened gradually, and then, suddenly, but the quality of his work was going downhill, and he had trouble understanding what was going on in his tenth grade classes. Subjects that once excited and interested him - science and history - now seemed obtuse, boring, and distant, while math, which he'd always had a little trouble with, became downright incomprehensible. He was unable to perform basic algebraic equations, utterly confused at the entire affair. His performance in gym class also drastically declined. He vaguely remembered being about average height with the class, but now, he seemed to be among the shortest (nobody else seemed to notice, and he didn't mind it all that much). He used to be able to perform three to five chin-ups - now, he could barely lift himself at all. While his energy was up, his dexterity and speed were down, and he found himself being regularly lapped in the Mile by people he once routinely finished two minutes ahead of. The one sport he was doing well at was swimming; he had always had a powerful stroke, but he was generally less than graceful. Now, while his speed was noticeably down - he was doing worse than most of the girls in the class, not to mention all the guys - he had become absurdly agile. The faculty noticed this decline and Darrell had to take an aptitude test. It covered basic arithmetic and algebra, English skills, and some history. They were concerned, they said, with his performance, and wanted to see if this test could pinpoint where he really was academically. He found he had a good amount of trouble with it, especially the math. He couldn't figure out anything other than the addition and subtraction problems; multiplication was way over his head. As far as history was concerned, he possessed a very rudimentary understanding of American history, knew who George Washington and Abraham Lincoln were, knew about the Civil War, and WWII. Basic stuff. His reading comprehension dropped drastically after reading the third entry, an excerpt from a Judy Blum novel. But he wasn't told any of this. His mother was informed, and events were quietly set into motion. But, no matter what happened, he had the people he called "the girls of his life:" Lindsey and Sal. He still went to the weekly Girl Scout meetings to help out and spend time with Lindsey, and during the week, he hung out with Lindsey, Megan, Jessica, and, occasionally, Sal. Sal had taken on Lindsey as a little sister of her own (she had no siblings), and enjoyed brushing and braiding Lindsey and Darrell's hair while they sat around playing with Barbie dolls, often in Darrell's room; he had begun developing his own collection. She even started coming on Mondays to the meetings, ostensibly to spend time with her boyfriend. She and Darrell's relationship had changed, she knew, and she wanted to fix it. However, conversations between the two of them became awkward, as both had completely different sets of concerns. He would want to talk about his new Barbie doll, or the latest episode of Totally Spies, or Britney Spears, and she would discuss her interests in art, music, and literature, topics that had previously brought them close and which Darrell now found incredibly boring. Anyway, at one meeting, a couple of months after he'd started going, all the girls were off playing a game while Sal and Darrell watched. Darrell thought it looked like a lot of fun, but he wouldn't abandon his post to go play. Quite unexpectedly, Lindsey and Company came rushing over, the three of them pulling on him, begging him to come and join the game. He managed to break free, but said that, while he really wanted to play, he couldn't just abandon the job he'd said he'd do. "Oh, have some fun. Sal can watch us. You did it alone for weeks! I'm sure Sal can do it," Lindsey said. Darrell looked up at Sal, who seemed to tower over himself and his sister. "Pleeeeease can you do it, Sal? Pretty please?" Sal looked down at her boyfriend, in his braided pigtails and blue Powerpuff Girls T- shirt, and couldn't say no. Darrell, Lindsey, Megan and Jessica bounded away like the best of friends to go and play. Darrell ended up just spending time with them for the rest of the meeting, and, rather than overseeing it while Mrs. Linney ran it like he generally did, he simply sat down and participated like everyone else. He loved it. On the drive home, he sat up front next to Sal, who was driving, while Lindsey took the back seat. Lindsey and Darrell talked and talked and talked about how much fun they had and how much the Girl Scouts rocked while Sal drove home quietly. When she reached their house to drop them off, she asked Darrell to stay in the car so they could talk. "Darrell, stay in the car. We need to talk. About us." "Yeah, Sal. I know. Things aren't the same." "You've noticed it, too?" "Oh yeah. It's like we live on different planets, ya know? You're into all this grown-up stuff that I just don't get." "You will someday, when you're older. But, I guess, you know, we should break up." Darrell sighed a little. "Yeah. I've seen you walking around with Mike. I know you like him. Don't worry, I understand. I hope we can still be friends. I hope you'll still come over and watch me and Lindsey play." "Oh, most definitely. You're like a little brother to me, short stuff. I might even bring Mike some time." "That'd be cool! It'd give you someone to talk to. I'm totally sure Mom would be cool with that." And so, broken up, Sal and Darrell still spent time together. Over time, Darrell worked less and less at the meetings and spent more time just playing and hanging with the girls, and Mrs. Linney came to rely on Sal for the work Darrell did, but nobody seemed to mind. It was just natural; Mrs. Linney wondered why she'd ever entrusted that responsibility to someone so clearly unready and immature as Darrell. Sal indeed started bringing Mike over when she went to go watch Darrell and Lindsey play together. The two would just run around the house together, or play tag outside, or show off what they were wearing when they played dress up in their Mom's oversized clothes, or just in Lindsey's various outfits or old Halloween costumes. Particularly frequent was dressing up as Disney princesses in Lindsey's Belle and Jasmine costumes, Darrell taking Jasmine because she wore pants. He refused to wear dresses and skirts. One day, Dar was woken by his mom, asked to dress nicely, because she was going to give him a ride to school. He put his hair up in a ponytail, put on a small T-shirt, some Capri pants and yellow sandals, and his mother drove him to school. It was Castle Elementary School. Lindsey's school. Dar looked around confused. "What's going on, mom? Why are we at Lindsey's school?" "You'll find out in a minute, sweetie" she said to a prettily-dressed Dar, and the two walked in and entered the office. The assistant principal greeted them as they walked in. "This must be Dar. I must say, you are a pretty little thing," she said, bending down substantially so that she was at eye level with the 4'8" Dar, who blushed. She shook Dar's mom's hand, and led them into her office, where they sat down. She continued. "Dar, a bit back, you took a special test to help us figure out where you should be. We thank you for taking it. We spent some time going over it, and we think that it would be best if you were transferred from the tenth to the third grade. They think it will be best for you there. I have to say I agree. Your tests seem to indicate that that's academically and mentally where you are. Now, this isn't a punishment. We just want you to succeed, so we're placing you where you can." Dar didn't really react at first. Something in his head clicked. "But I'm way too old to be in third grade, ma'am. I'm..." He thought for a brief moment. "...sixteen" The principal nodded. "Yes, you are. But, academically, you're on about a third grade level, and we think this would be good for you. You'll be where you need to be, with children who are also on your level. Your mother has already agreed." Something clicked. He smiled, cocked his head, and sweetly asked, "Can I be in Lindsey's class?" It was so. Much to his sister's surprise, he marched into Mrs. Harcourt's third grade class at about 10 in the morning and was introduced to the teacher and the class. Lindsey, while surprised to see her brother there, thought nothing of a sixteen year-old being in the third grade, especially one who looked about the same as everyone else in the room. It seemed very natural to her that Dar should be there. So it seemed to Dar, as well. He was excited that he could spend so much time with his sister and his best friends Megan and Jessica, who were also in that class. The four of them managed to get permission to sit together, and they all had the best of fun. He loved being in classes that he understood; everything was right on his level. And in gym class, which was much less formal than the one at Whitehorse, he excelled above most of the girls in his class. Dar really enjoyed being in the third grade. He and Lindsey were inseparable, with Megan and Jessica tagging along all the time. The four played together during recess, ate together during lunch, and giggled at stupid jokes. They would deliberately sing off-key in music class, and joke around during language arts. Math class was starting up multiplication, which Dar had a bit of trouble with; he had difficulty memorizing the tables, but he got the concept pretty well. It just took him a bit longer, because he had to actually multiply in his head. He so clearly belonged in the third grade that he had difficulty understanding why he had been in the tenth grade just a few short weeks earlier. So did everyone else; Dar was just a regular third grader. He wasn't outstandingly intelligent, so his time in high school seemed very anomalous. He couldn't explain it, Lindsey couldn't explain it, his mom couldn't explain it. Eventually, everyone just forgot it had even happened, and as far as everyone was concerned, Dar was right where he should be. If one had suggested to Dar that, not long ago, he had been in the tenth grade, he would have looked at you funny, giggled, and walked away, wondering what had prompted such absurdity. Meanwhile, his mother announced that Dar and Lindsey were going to share a room (since they shared pretty much everything anyway), and neither seemed to mind. Dar's old room was going to become their mother's office, and the two of them were strictly forbidden from entering. So Dar moved all his clothes, all his toys, and his bed, into Lindsey's room. His computer remained in his old room, where it became his mother's. Clearly, neither was mature enough to surf the internet unsupervised. Their mom also began paying Sal a small fee to babysit Dar and Lindsey while she was at work after school. Sal began coming over every day, cooking for them, playing with them, often putting them to bed when their mom had to stay late at work, and just generally babysitting. Dar and Lindsey would stay up late, though, in their nightgowns, telling each other stories, or just talking, while Sal watched television downstairs. In testimony to Sal's wonderful way with the two of them, she managed to get Dar over his endless unwillingness to wear skirts and dresses. "Come on, Dar. Don't you think dresses are pretty?" "Yeah..." "Doesn't your sister look very very pretty over there in her dress?" "Yeah..." "And don't you want to be pretty like her in that dress?" A wall in Dar's mind came crashing down. "Yeah, I do." "Of course you do. So you go put on a skirt and have some fun!" And the problem ended. Dar was wearing dresses and skirts as frequently if not more frequently than his sister. When he wore a long skirt to Girl Scouts the following Monday, he elicited a gasp; his unwillingness to wear them was well known. But there he was, in a skirt, and Sal, like she had for the past few weeks, took her role as supervisor while Dar ran off to the meeting with the other girls. He really loved doing Girl Scout stuff. But he still felt out of place. Everyone else wore their green uniforms, while he came in his everyday clothes, and when Mrs. Linney told him he couldn't go on the Girl Scout camping trip because he wasn't a Girl Scout (liability, of course), he broke down into tears. Sal took him and Lindsey home, and the two went off to bed. As they lay in bed that evening, Dar still crying a bit, Lindsey had a thought. She wondered why it had never occurred to her earlier, it was so obvious. "Hey, Dar." "Yeah?" "Why aren't you a Girl Scout?" "What?" "Why aren't you a Girl Scout? You come to all the meetings, you pretty much do everything we do. You should be a Girl Scout." "But I'm not a girl." "So? You're close enough. You wear dresses and play with Barbies like every other girl." "Yeah, that's true. But I'm too old." "No, you're not. You're in the third grade, Dar. Everyone in the third grade is eight or nine." How old am I, Dar asked himself. I'm in the third grade. Everyone in the third grade is eight or nine. Lindsey is nine. Lindsey and I are not the same age. I must be eight. Something in Dar's head screamed that he was sixteen, that he shouldn't be a Girl Scout, that it wasn't possible, that it made no sense. But, as always, that voice was quieted. "Yeah. I'm eight. I should join the Girl Scouts. Yeah." And Dar drifted off to sleep. The next day at school Dar told all of his friends about his decision to join the Girl Scouts. Megan and Jessica were particularly excited, and confessed that they as well had recently been wondering just why he wasn't a Girl Scout. Dar explained that it just hadn't occurred to him, but that Lindsey had suggested it last night. Their mom was very into the idea, and said she'd ask Sal to talk to Mrs. Linney about it, and, at home that day, Sal told Dar that she was in. They went out to the store to buy him a green uniform - skirt, blouse, vest, hat. He tried it on, and paraded about in it all day, so proud was he of joining the Girl Scouts. That Monday evening, at Girl Scouts, Dar was dressed in his uniform with the other girls for the first time, and he basked in his new membership. The thought occasionally occurred to him that there was something very wrong about a boy being in the Girl Scouts, but it was fleeting, and it never stayed for long. He was a Girl Scout in every way. It happened one day that the third grade went on a field trip. Of course, Dar and Lindsey sat together on the bus, with Jessica and Megan sitting right behind. The trip, designed to expose third graders to what the permission slip form referred to "among the heights of human creativity:" the ballet. The local dance school put on an annual ballet revue for elementary and middle school students, hoping to spark interest in the form early and keep dance going another generation. At this, the revue was generally successful, as at least a dozen girls out of every audience of three or four hundred started dancing after seeing the show. Of course, this narrator wouldn't be addressing this trip unless Dar was a part of that dozen, and indeed, he became infatuated with ballet. As soon as he got home, he began prancing about the house and bubbling to Sal about how he was going to be a great ballerina when he grew up, about how pretty and graceful the dancer and costumes were, and how much he wanted to start taking lessons. Sal was excited for him. "Well, hasn't this been a big week for you! First the Girl Scouts, now ballet. You're just finding your passions all over the place." Dar wasn't clear on what she just said. "What's a pashinn?" "A passion, Dar, is something you really really really like." That seemed to satisfy him enough, and, when his mother got home, Dar just ran up to her and started babbling like a madman about how ballet was his passion and he wanted to start right away and he wanted a pretty ballet costume and really, mom, it was his passion, he was 'passiony' about it, he wanted to be a ballerina sooo much and could he PLEASE become a ballerina, mom? Slightly overwhelmed by her son's newfound desire to be a ballerina and the enthusiasm with which he approached it, as well as exhausted from the day's work, she told Dar to talk to her tomorrow, which was a day off. Sure enough, after a sleepless, excited night during which Dar did nothing but think about being a famous, graceful and beautiful ballerina, he approached his mother about it again. She was much more receptive after a good night's sleep, and placed a call to a small beginner's dance studio. The next day, Dar was enrolled with eleven other eight year-old girls in the girls' beginner class. His mother bought him a black leotard and white tights, and he sat in on the Sunday session. He was all atitter about it the next day at school, and some of the other girls who'd taken classes showed him some things. Lindsey thought it looked pretty cool herself, and sat in during this impromptu session at recess, and found herself enjoying it. The Girl Scout meeting was dominated by discussion of the ballet class, and it turned out that Mrs. Linney used to dance in college, so she used Sal to show all the girls a few moves (which was relatively difficult in those restrictive skirts). It turned out that Dar's being in a dance class could be credited toward a merit badge, about which he was justifiably proud. Eventually, the meeting turned to the upcoming troop camping trip. One would think that Dar would be very excited about the trip, which he was, but he was still quite occupied with thoughts of being the prettiest ballerina ever, so he was only sort of half listening. However, the important information got through: the camping trip was this weekend. And what a camping trip it was! Dar spent the whole trip with his sister, Megan, and Jessica. The four romped around the woods with Sal when they had the free time, took pictures, and went swimming in the artificial lake. The camp, which was a series of air-conditioned cabins, was beautiful, and Dar had the time of his life. Campfire songs, archery, s'mores - it was camp. It was camp with all the camp stuff that camps generally come with. Dar and Lindsey wished they'd brought their bikes, the hills were so good. At night, the girls all told scary stories, and Lindsey's - the one about the serial killer with the hook - almost scared him out of his nightgown. Lindsey ended up joining the ballet class, too, and she and Dar took to it like bees to flowers. They enjoyed the classes, they practiced frequently, and found themselves both quite adept at it, quickly advancing near the top of the class. Dar in particular appeared to be a natural ballet dancer, possessing a grace and beauty where his peers where clumsy. Sal, who came and watched the latter half of the sessions before she picked them up, was amazed at Dar's progress. Maybe, she thought, Dar might really be meant to be a ballerina. The session ended, Dar and Lindsey put on light dresses over their dance wear, and they left. When they all got back home, Lindsey went up to change for bed while Dar held back. He appeared concerned, almost worried about something. She asked him what was wrong. Dar looked up at his babysitter, puzzled. "Why am I different?" "What do you mean, different? You and your sister are so alike in every way, I'd have trouble telling the two of you apart if she wasn't a little taller." "No, that's not what I mean." Dar seemed pained with confusion. "What, then?" "Ok, I mean...ok. Boys are different than girls, right?" "Uh, yeah." "Well, how come I'm the only boy who's different? None of the other boys in my class take ballet -" Sal interrupted. "Lots of boys are ballet dancers." "Well, none of the ones I know. None of them wear dresses or skirts. None of the boys I know are in Girl Scouts. Why am I not like the other boys?" Sal thought a moment. "Well, Dar, ever thought that you might not be a boy?" Dar's eyes looked down as he struggled to figure out how that could be. He knew he was a boy. He was a boy. He had always been a boy. How could he not be a boy? "What are you wearing?" "A dress." "Who wears dresses?" "Girls." "Right. Your dance class is called 'Girls' Beginner Ballet.' Is anyone else in that class a boy?" "No..." "Boys are Boy Scouts. Girls are Girl Scouts. Are you a Boy Scout or a Girl Scout?" "I'm a Girl Scout." "Ok, well. Let's add that up. You wear dresses. You are in a girls' dance class. You are a Girl Scout. What does that make you?" "A...girl?" "Right, Dar, a girl. You're a girl." "I'm a girl?" "It would seem so. A very pretty one." The wheels turned in Dar's head. I wear dresses. Girls wear dresses. I am in girls' dance class. A class for girls. I am a Girl Scout. Girls are Girl Scouts, not boys. I must be a girl. Something in her head screamed that she was a boy, a sixteen year-old boy, not an eight year- old girl, that something very weird was happening, but that voice was silenced, and Darlene went up to the room she shared with her older sister, changed, and went to sleep. The next day at school, Darlene noticed something odd. The time she spent with Lindsey felt different to her. There was something particularly special about it. Darlene and her older sister had been close their entire lives, especially considering the small age difference. Neither knew of any life without the other. They had always shared a room, and always been in the same grade (Darlene was a year advanced). Darlene, like her sister, was a normal, healthy, spirited little girl. But something was very special about this. It was as though these sisters had never been so close, never so connected. Despite years and years of camaraderie and shared experiences as sisters, this all seemed wonderful and new. She couldn't put her finger on what made it so, but one thing was certainly true.