Pity Puddle

Amalia's face was gloomier than the falling rain as she gazed out the kitchen window. "I tried so hard to make the honor roll this time," she said. "I wanted you and Dad to be proud of me."

"Dad and I are proud of you, Amalia, even if you didn't make the honor roll," replied Mom in a soothing tone. "We know how hard you worked, and you can try again next time."

"No, Mom. I'm done trying," said Amalia. "It's no use."

As she spoke, Cameron, who lived next door, ran up his driveway. Amalia and her mother gasped as he stumbled and fell, landing on both knees in a mud puddle. In a flash, he was back on his feet and running up the porch steps. "Why do you suppose Cameron got up so quickly?" asked Mom. "Why didn't he just stay there in that puddle for a little while?"

"Stay there!" exclaimed Amalia in surprise. "Why would he do that? He'd soak up even more water and dirt than he did already."

"That's right," said Mom. "And in a way, you seem to be in a puddle, too. But instead of jumping