The Great Egg Disaster

"Sarah."

"Coming!" Sarah hollers to her mom as she sets her colored pencil down in the crease of her coloring book and stands up. She finds her mother in the kitchen, helping her aunt and grandma prepare the thanksgiving meal.

"Would you like to help?" Sarah's Momma asks.

Suddenly feeling all grown up, Sarah's spine straightens and chin lifts. Never before has she been asked to help with the Thanksgiving meal. "Yeah," she says, delicately tucking her hair behind her ears with little fingers and nodding her head.

Momma is just finishing placing the last deviled egg on a shiny silver platter. "Please set these on the table next to the stuffing," she says.

A seemingly simple task that Sarah is happy and a little nervous to do. Taking a deep breath, she carefully grasp the platter in her small hands. Each step is slow, precise. She holds the platter perfectly level, her eyes moving from the counter to the eggs and back, judging the distance.

"Sarah!" Kelsey, Sarah's little cousin, suddenly screeches with excitement. Sarah jumps, her hands jerk. No!

The platter tips; the eggs slide. She tries to correct the angle, but the eggs slide the other way. Her stomach drops with each egg that disappears over the edge to the hardwood floor splattering everyone and everything.

Pressure builds in her chest, tightens in her throat. She would do anything to change things but she cannot. As silent tears slip down her cheeks, she stares at the mess, too shocked to move. Now, no one will have Deviled Eggs, and it's all her fault.

"Uh. . . Oh!" says Kelsey, the only noise, she'd swear.

Clutching the platter - with the few remaining eggs on it - she looks up at her momma, expecting the worst and murmurs, "I'm S-sorry."

"It's okay sweetie, accidents happen," her momma says handing her a washcloth. As they clean the mess together, her momma whispers in her ear. "Besides, no one likes Great-Aunt Helen's Deviled Eggs anyway."