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Friends make everything easier. If you want to succeed at a challenge, involve your friends. They have an amazing capacity to lighten physical, emotional, and mental burdens by simply being there.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés friendship friends challenges richelle-goodrich richelle-e-goodrich

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Anyone who takes the time to be kind is beautiful."

from: "The Beauty of Ugh"

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés kindness beauty beautiful kind ugh

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Why must you know the details of my troubles to have compassion? Is it not enough to show compassion simply because you know that everyone has troubles?

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés kindness compassion empathy sympathy problems troubles richelle richelle-goodrich dilemmas dillema

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You may not know my reasons, but you can assume I have them and be kind.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés kindness motivation problems reasons kind motives richelle reasons-why causes richelle-goodrich

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Face it; life's gonna chew you up and spit you out. If you're lucky you'll get stuck to the bottom of someone's shoe and be carried far, far away from it all.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés life troubles defeat trials richelle harsh hardships struggles richelle-goodrich beating

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It seems there is more interest in sunsets than sunrises. Perhaps because innately we fear the dark.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Mots clés darkness sunset richelle sunrise richelle-goodrich eena harrowbethain-saga

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He gestured at me. “Do you like the blanket?”

I nodded. “It’s warm.”

“I made it. Well, actually, I didn’t skin the animal, but I did kill it….after the others pinned it down. It’s werewolf skin.”

My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur.

“I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother’s idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you get.”

“You didn’t slay a werewolf,” I breathed before repeating the words louder. “You did not slay a werewolf, Thaddeus.”

“Oh, but I did. I took a band of huntsman with me and we tracked one down. A smaller one, mind you, not far from the front gate…”

“You did not!” I contended more strongly. Why would one wolf have separated from the pack? Why outside our walls?

“Yes, Catherine, I did,” he insisted.

I shook my head disbelieving. “You’re not capable—”

“I am so.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to protest, but to do so meant giving away my knowledge of the truth. Without knowing what else to do or say I changed the subject.

“The fire’s gone out.”

Thaddeus turned his head to check. “You’re right. I’ll see to it.”

He fed the barrel stove until a healthy blaze was roaring. Finding me no longer a decent conversationalist, Thaddeus left with a promise to return soon with food and water. Unobserved, I gathered up the fur hide of a lost soul and curled into a ball, hugging it close to my chest.

I cried silent tears and mourned for this unknown werewolf for days.