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Some Kids I Have Known
Mrs. Squirrel Worries with Discrimination

Mrs. Squirrel was primping and getting ready for a club meeting. She was so excited, since she had seen in the newspaper new members were being taken into the local garden guild. Mrs. Squirrel loved growing things so she was being very careful to groom herself   well. She brushed her long bushy tail and manicured her extra long, almost claw like paws. They were unusual in their length and she was proud of them.

At the meeting she was invited into a beautiful room all decorated with the women's hand work going to flowers and plants.

“We are asking our members to “sign in.”  This lady was looking at her a bit out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, I'm not a member.”  Mrs. Squirrel was quick to identify herself.

Mrs. Squirrel enjoyed the meeting with the ladies presenting different short talks about their gardens, and when she left one of the ladies told her they would review her request to join their club.

A couple of weeks went by and then a lovely little message arrived in her mailbox. It smelled of lavender and was the most beautiful soft color too. However, as Mrs. Squirrel read over the note there were tears slipping down the side of her face.

“We feel.”  The note read.  “Since you are not totally a squirrel, having a father who is a Mottled Hawk, you would just not fit into our society.” “We try to keep our blood line strong and it is a rule (in fine print) that we do not accept those of half and half, this and that.”   “You understand, we are sure.”

That evening Mrs. Squirrel showed the note to her husband who was a mighty Eagle.  He took the note, crumpled it in one mighty talon, and turned to his beloved wife.

“My dear, my dear.”  He tried to comfort her.  “Please do not be grieved over a silly note such as this.”  “You know how much I and our children love you.”

Mrs. Squirrel knew but she longed to be a part of the community so when she again saw another message in the newspaper of a group of Mottled Hawks who were meeting she made a note of this.

This time when she stood at the door the fierce looking hawk there looked down her beak at the squirrel.

“Yes.”  “Can I do something for you?”

“I read you are having a meeting today and I wanted to visit.”  She meekly replied.

“Well, really, I don't see how you would want to be here.”  Today is the day we manicure our talons, and   'er ah, excuse me, but I don't know what you would do while we are busy.”

“My paws are very long and quite a lot like talons.”  Mrs. Squirrel wanted so badly to fit in someplace.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!”  “Not at all suitable for our group.”  “Sorry!” This woman did not beat about the bush and slammed the door in her face.

As Mrs. Squirrel hurriedly rushed away from the house there were tiny tears squeezing out from under her eyelids.  It just so happened the post man was coming up the walk and saw her.

“I couldn't help but hear,” Mrs. Squirrel.  “I know how you feel.”

Mrs. Squirrel was indeed so hurt, but she did not want to admit this to a stranger, so she said nothing.

“Here is an invitation to our next meeting.”  The postman handed the little squirrel a card.  “Please come.”  "We are from every group." "One is a lion, one is a peacock, some are gazelles and there is even an elephant."  "I'm not sure,  but I think the lion's mother was a crane!"

So it was Mrs. Squirrel found her niche.  No one at her new group even asked her who her parents were. They were so busy with their good works,  worrying about calling on people, and at the moment taking care of their immediate sorrows or joys.  They shared  association and ideas with each other too.

Mrs. Squirrel no longer felt  alone.  In fact her life was so complete. She had her husband's love, her children were central in her life, but too, she enjoyed friends who loved her for herself as well.

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