The Golden Rule

“But Julia can’t wait till next month for new shoes!” Julia could hear her mother yelling all the way across the house as her little brother peeked into her bedroom.

“Come here, Sammy,” Julia said quietly motioning for him to sit with her on her bed. It wasn’t unusual to hear her mother and father fighting. In fact, it wasn’t even unusual for them to be fighting about money. But what was unusual was how early they were fighting. It wasn’t even 7 AM.

Julia wiggled her feet in her old tennis shoes. She poked her toe through a small hole in her right shoe and couldn’t help feeling guilty for starting the fight. She had noticed the hole as she was laying out her clothes for school the night before. It didn’t bother her that her shoes had been a little tight recently, but she knew that hole would just get bigger and bigger. She didn’t want to wear shoes with holes in them to school so she asked her mom if they could go shopping for some new shoes after school. And now her parents were fighting – about her shoes.

“Julia! Sammy!” Her father called angrily down the hallway. “I hear the school bus. You better get out there. The last thing I need this morning is to be late because I had to drive you two to school!” Julia’s stomach was in knots as she helped Sammy off the bed. Grabbing their coats and backpacks from the hall closet, they walked together out the door and down the street just in time to catch the bus.

“What happened to your shoes?” Charlotte Swan said loudly scrunching up her nose as she pointed across the bus aisle at Julia’s foot. Julia glared at Charlotte and tried to tuck her right foot behind her left foot as three more kids popped up to see what Charlotte was pointing at.

“Look!” Brody Robbins snorted. “I can see Julia’s big smelly toe!” Laughter broke out on the bus. Stamping her feet, Julia marched down the aisle and gave Brody a sharp kick in the shin.

“Owwww!” Brody howled.

“Mr. Bus Driver! Mr. Bus Driver!” Charlotte shot her hand straight in the air. “Julia kicked Brody!”

“Get back in your seat, Julia!” The bus driver’s voice was sharp. “What were you thinking getting out of your seat on a moving bus? And we will talk about you and Brody when we arrive at school.”

Julia scowled and folded her arms. She was glad she had kicked Brody. He deserved it. She hated him. She hated Charlotte. She hated the dumb bus driver.

An hour and one long trip to the principle’s office later, Julia stormed into Mrs. Rodriguez’s classroom. Her desk buddy, Mirabelle smiled up at Julia. Julia just glared back at her. She couldn’t stand Mirabelle. She was so perfect. She had probably never been to the principle’s office. She probably had six pairs of brand-new shoes at home. Her parents probably smiled and loved each other all the time. It made Julia sick to look at Mirabelle.

“We are on page 132,” Mirabelle whispered across the desk to Julia. Julia yanked out her math book and flung it on the table, knocking Mirabelle’s bottle of white out into her lap. Expecting Mirabelle to tattle just like Charlotte, Julia was surprised when Mirabelle simply took a deep breath, placed the white out back on her desk, and slipped a few tissues out of her backpack to wipe up the mess.

After math, the class lined up to walk to music. Looking down at her big smelly toe, Julia couldn’t help but notice the back of Mirabelle’s brand-new pink camo flats. They were exactly like the shoes she was eyeing the other day at the mall. Without even thinking, Julia lifted her foot and brought it down hard on Mirabelle’s brand-new shoes.

“Ouch!” Mirabelle gasped in surprise.

“Ladies?” Mrs. Rodriguez called from the front of the line. “Is there a problem?”

“No, Mrs. R,” Mirabelle called back. “It was just an accident.” She brushed the dust off her new shoes and kept walking.

Julia looked at Mirabelle in shock. Did she really just keep her from getting in trouble? Julia and Mirabelle both knew it wasn’t an accident. So why did Mirabelle cover for her? Julia walked the rest of the way in silence. She felt bad for acting out the way she had but it still wasn’t fair that Mirabelle had everything while she had nothing.

After the routine welcome song in Mr. Mahaffey’s music class, everyone scuttled to pick instruments out of the instrument cabinet. By the time Julia shoved her way to the front, all that was left was the kazoo. Julia felt a lump in her throat. She shoved her hand to the back of the cabinet and grabbed the dumb triangle. Stomping back to the circle she took her spot next to Mirabelle who smiled proudly at her maracas sitting on the floor in front of her.

Julia angrily sat down and threw her triangle on the floor. “Give me your maracas,” she commanded Mirabelle. Mirabelle looked down at Julia’s triangle.

“But…” Mirabelle stopped. “Ok. Let’s trade.” She held out her maracas to Julia and smiled. Julia hesitated. Was this a trap? Surely Mirabelle was going to tell on her for stealing the maracas. After all, everyone saw her pick up the triangle.

Julia narrowed her eyes at Mirabelle. “What are you trying to do?”

Mirabelle tilted her head. “I thought you said you wanted the maracas.”

“Yeah, but why are you actually giving them to me? I would have never given you my maracas. And I would have told Mrs. R if you stepped on my foot. And if you spilled white out on my lap.” Julia looked down at the blob of white paint on Mirabelle’s jean skirt.

“I know,” Mirabelle said with a grin.

“So then why…” Julia began.

“Just because you wouldn’t do it for me doesn’t mean I should act any differently. If I want people to treat me with kindness, I should be nice to other people,” Mirabelle said shrugging.

“What, like the ‘golden rule’ or something?” Julia held up air quotes and rolled her eyes. She had heard of the golden rule her whole life from her mom and dad, but it didn’t seem like a rule they were willing to follow themselves. It all seemed kind of childish to her.

“Kind of,” Mirabelle began. “It actually comes from something Jesus said in the Bible. But it does sort of make sense. I mean, if I had tattled on you or made you play an instrument you didn’t like, we would never be friends. But since I was nice to you, then maybe you would want to come play at my dad’s house this weekend. He has real maracas from Puerto Rico that he lets us play with.”

That did sound fun. But – “Your dad’s house?” It was Julia’s turn to look confused. “Isn’t it your mom’s house, too?”

“No,” Mirabelle looked down. “My mom and dad used to fight a lot so now they don’t live together. Sometimes I spend the weekend with my dad. It would be fun to have a friend over.”

Julia was shocked. Maybe she had more in common with Mirabelle than she thought. Smiling, Julia took one of Mirabelle’s maracas. “You can use the other one,” she said. “I can’t wait to see your dad’s real maracas this weekend!” The two girls giggled and shook their instruments.