Frosty the Snowman - A Children's Story

Frosty the Snowman

By Bill Conley
America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller

Moral of the Story

Magic is real when we believe with our hearts, not just our eyes. Joy comes not from how long something lasts but from the happiness it brings while it is here. Friendship and kindness can turn an ordinary day into a memory that never melts away. Love and laughter are stronger than the coldest winter wind. When we bring happiness to others, we keep a little of that magic alive in ourselves.

One cold December morning, the first snowflakes of winter began to fall across the town. They covered rooftops, tree branches, and the schoolyard in a soft white blanket. The children had been waiting for this day, and when the final school bell rang, they ran outside laughing and cheering.

“Let’s build the biggest snowman ever,” shouted Tommy. “The one that can see all the way down Main Street.”

Everyone grabbed handfuls of snow, rolling it into giant balls. They stacked one on top of another until the snowman stood tall and proud.

“Now he needs a face,” said Sarah. They used coal for his eyes and mouth and a carrot for his nose.

“What about a hat?” asked Billy.

Just then, the wind blew through the street, carrying an old black top hat that tumbled across the snow and landed right at their feet.

“Perfect,” said Sarah. She lifted the hat and placed it on the snowman’s head.

The moment the hat touched him, something wonderful happened. The snowman blinked, lifted his head, and gave a wide smile.

“Happy Birthday!” he said cheerfully.

The children jumped back, startled, then burst into laughter. “He’s alive!” Tommy shouted. “The snowman’s alive!”

The snowman chuckled and took a step forward. “Well, what do you know? My name is Frosty! How do you do?”

The children could hardly believe it. They danced and clapped as Frosty began to twirl and laugh. “Let’s have some fun before I melt away,” he said, waving his arms.

They ran through the snowy streets, playing tag, making snow angels, and sliding down hills. Wherever Frosty went, laughter followed. The townsfolk peeked from windows and smiled to see the children and their jolly snowman bringing joy to everyone around them.

But as the sun began to shine brighter, Frosty felt a trickle of warmth run down his snowy cheek. “Uh-oh,” he said softly. “That sun feels a little too warm for me.”

The children looked worried. “What are we going to do?” asked Sarah.

“We need to take him somewhere cold,” said Tommy. “Somewhere the sun can’t get him.”

Frosty nodded. “The North Pole would be nice,” he said with a wink.

The children decided to take Frosty to the train station. They pooled their money together and bought him a ticket north. As they walked, people waved and smiled at the sight of a snowman tipping his hat politely along the street.

When they reached the station, the conductor looked down in surprise. “Well, I’ll be! A snowman on my platform. Never seen that before.”

“He’s going to the North Pole,” said Sarah. “It’s the only way to keep him from melting.”

The conductor chuckled. “Then hop aboard, Frosty. You’re just in time.”

Before he climbed onto the train, Frosty turned to his friends. “Don’t cry,” he said kindly. “You gave me life today, and that’s the greatest gift of all.”

Sarah wiped a tear from her cheek. “Will we ever see you again?”

Frosty smiled and placed a gentle, snowy hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back when the snow returns. Remember, wherever there’s laughter and kindness, I’ll be near.”

The whistle blew, and Frosty waved as the train pulled away. His red scarf fluttered in the breeze, and his hat tipped in farewell.

The children watched until the train disappeared into the white horizon. Though their hearts were heavy, they also felt full of something warm and wonderful.

Days turned into weeks, and winter slowly faded. Yet the children never forgot Frosty, his laugh, his kindness, and the way he made the whole town feel alive.

Then, one morning the next December, the first snowflakes began to fall again. The children ran outside, smiling and calling to each other.

“Let’s build him again!” Tommy shouted.

They rolled the snow, built him tall, and placed the same old black hat on his head.

And just like before, the snow shimmered, the hat wiggled, and Frosty’s cheerful voice rang out.

“Happy Birthday!” he said once more.

The children cheered, their laughter echoing through the snowy streets, and once again, Frosty the Snowman brought joy to the world.

Poem

Frosty came to life one day.
When children laughed and chose to play.
A hat, a smile, a heart so true,
And magic sparkled through and through.
He taught them all before he’d go.
That love stays warm beneath the snow.
Though time may pass and seasons part,
His spirit lives in every heart.

Questions for Thought

1.     Why do you think Frosty came to life when the children believed?

2.     What lesson did Frosty teach before he left?

3. How can you keep the spirit of kindness alive, even when someone you love is far away?

Jingle the Horse and the Joyride Through the Snow - A Children's Story

Jingle the Horse and the Joyride Through the Snow

By Bill Conley
America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller

Moral of the Story

The greatest joy comes not from how fast we go but from the laughter we share along the way. When we choose happiness, we create memories that jingle in our hearts forever. Life’s ride is meant to be enjoyed, not rushed. Smiles, friendship, and kindness are the true music of Christmas. Even a simple act of joy can brighten an entire world of snow.

Jingle was a chestnut horse who pulled a one-horse open sleigh through a small snowy village. Every winter, his silver harness bells were polished until they sparkled, and his mane was brushed until it gleamed in the sun.

He loved this time of year. When the air turned crisp and white, and snow covered the fields, Jingle knew that Christmas was near, a season filled with laughter, music, and kindness.

Jingle belonged to a cheerful boy named Tommy, who cared for him tenderly. One December afternoon, Tommy came running toward the barn with excitement in his eyes. “Jingle, today’s the day,” he said with a grin. “We’re going to surprise the children in town with sleigh rides.”

He fastened the harness around Jingle’s strong shoulders and placed shiny red ribbons through his mane. Then, he hitched the sleigh, a beautiful red one that glowed in the sunlight, and climbed aboard.

“Ready, Jingle?” he called out.

Jingle pawed at the snow and snorted proudly, as if to say, “I was born ready.”

With a soft flick of the reins, they trotted down the snowy path. The bells on Jingle’s harness jingled in rhythm with every step, filling the air with a cheerful melody. The sound echoed through the pine trees and across the frozen fields, carrying the joy of Christmas far and wide.

When they reached the village, children gathered around, cheering and laughing. “It’s Jingle!” one shouted. “The Christmas horse!”

Tommy smiled. “Who wants a ride?”

“Me! Me!” the children cried, bouncing with excitement. They climbed into the sleigh, bundled in scarves and mittens, their faces glowing with happiness.

Jingle lifted his head proudly and began to trot, pulling the sleigh through the snow. The children’s laughter rang through the air, blending with the sound of the jingling bells.

As the sleigh glided down Main Street, the children began to sing loudly, their voices bright and full of joy.

🎵
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O’er the fields we go,
Laughing all the way!
Bells on bobtails ring,
Making spirits bright,
What fun it is to laugh and sing!
A sleighing song tonight!
🎵

Then they sang the chorus together, their voices echoing into the clear blue sky.

🎵
Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells,
Jingle all the way,
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh!
🎵

The people in the village stopped to listen, smiling and waving as the sleigh jingled past. Even the shopkeepers stepped outside to hum along. The little town glowed with happiness.

Jingle trotted faster, his bells ringing louder with every stride. Snowflakes sparkled like diamonds in the air as they raced past the frozen pond and through the park.

But then, as they reached the top of a hill, a sudden gust of wind blew snow into Jingle’s face. He slowed his pace; his vision blurred. Tommy leaned forward and patted his neck. “It’s all right, boy. Take your time.”

Before they could turn back, one of the children called out, “Don’t stop, Jingle! We believe in you!”

Those words filled Jingle’s heart with courage. He pressed forward through the swirling snow, steady and strong. The sleigh glided smoothly down the hill, the bells ringing joyfully all the way.

When they reached the bottom, the children clapped and cheered. Tommy laughed. “You did it, Jingle! You made everyone’s Christmas brighter.”

Jingle neighed proudly, shaking his head so the bells sang even louder. He didn’t need to speak. His joy was in the sound of every cheerful jingle that filled the cold winter air.

As the sun began to set, the sky turned soft shades of pink and gold. Tommy guided Jingle back to the barn while the children waved goodbye, still singing the song that now belonged to them all.

Back in his warm stall, Jingle rested his head on the straw and listened. The laughter and singing still echoed faintly in the distance. It was the same sound that made him happiest, the sound of joy shared among friends.

That night, as stars shimmered overhead, Jingle closed his eyes with peace in his heart. He had learned that the beauty of Christmas was not found in ribbons, gifts, or speed, but in the smiles created along the journey.

And every winter after that, Jingle and Tommy returned to the village to give sleigh rides. The bells rang, the laughter soared, and the song of Christmas lived on through the jingling of a horse who loved to spread joy.

Poem

Through fields of white and skies of gray,
A sleigh and song led hearts to play.
Each jingle told of laughter’s cheer,
A melody for all to hear.
The snow may fade, the seasons part,
But joy stays shining in the heart.
For every soul that laughs today,
Keeps Christmas love from slipping away.

Questions for Thought

1.     What made Jingle happiest about giving sleigh rides?

2.     Why did the children’s song help Jingle keep going?

3.     What lesson can we learn about sharing joy with others during Christmas?

 

Rory the Reindeer and the Great Reindeer Tryouts - A Children's Story

 

Rory the Reindeer and the Great Reindeer Tryouts

By Bill Conley
America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller

Moral of the Story

Effort and persistence always outshine natural talent. You don’t have to be perfect to be great; you just have to keep trying. Failure isn’t the end of the story; it is the beginning of learning. The strongest reindeer are not the ones who never fall, but the ones who get up again. Heart and hard work will always take you farther than easy success. Those who keep believing and keep improving become the true leaders. Christmas spirit is not about winning; it is about giving your best and lifting others up along the way.

Every December, high above the snowy clouds of the North Pole, Santa held his annual reindeer tryouts.

The best and brightest reindeer lined up on the training field to compete for a spot on Santa’s famous sleigh team. There were jumps to leap, hoops to glide through, and sprints to test speed and endurance.

Among them stood a young reindeer named Rory.

Rory was not the fastest, or the strongest, or even the most graceful. His hooves were a little too big, and his landings were always a little too bumpy. But Rory had a huge heart and an even bigger dream. He wanted more than anything to fly with Santa on Christmas Eve.

Dasher, Donner, and Blitzen, the veterans of the team, stretched confidently at the starting line. Dasher winked at Rory. “You ready, rookie?”

Rory nodded, though his knees trembled. “I’ve been practicing every day, sir!”

Blitzen chuckled. “Practice is good, kid, but it takes more than effort to pull the big sleigh.”

Santa blew his whistle, and the tryouts began.

The reindeer leapt into the air, hooves pounding and snow spraying everywhere. They soared through the frosty sky in dazzling form, except for Rory, who stumbled over the takeoff line and tumbled headfirst into a snowbank.

The crowd of elves gasped, then laughed softly. Rory popped his head out of the snow, shaking flakes from his antlers. “I’m okay!” he called out cheerfully, though his cheeks burned red.

The rest of the tryout did not go much better. He crashed through two practice hoops, missed his landing by a mile, and slid across the ice like a curling stone.

When Santa announced the results, Rory’s name was not on the list.

“I’m sorry, son,” Santa said kindly. “You’ve got heart, but you’re not ready yet.”

Rory nodded, holding back tears. “I understand, Santa. Maybe next year.”

That night, he wandered away from the stables, kicking at the snow. “Maybe I’m just not good enough,” he sighed. “I’ll never be like the others.”

Just then, Clarice, one of the younger reindeer, trotted over. “You looked great out there,” she said kindly.

Rory frowned. “I fell on my face.”

Clarice smiled. “Maybe. But you got back up every time. Santa noticed that.”

Rory tilted his head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Clarice said. “You just need to believe it, too.”

Those words stayed with him. The next morning, before dawn, Rory returned to the field alone. He started practicing, not once, not twice, but every day. He worked on his takeoffs, strengthened his legs, and even learned to balance while gliding through wind tunnels.

Days turned into weeks. Every time he fell, he got up faster. Every time he missed, he aimed higher.

One snowy afternoon, as Rory practiced loops in the sky, Santa happened to be watching from his workshop window.

“Ho ho ho!” Santa chuckled. “Would you look at that! The kid’s out here again, and he’s improving!”

When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the reindeer team gathered for their pre-flight inspection. But there was a problem. Comet had caught a cold and could not fly.

“What are we going to do?” asked Donner. “We’re one reindeer short!”

Santa rubbed his beard. “Well, I think I know someone who’s been working very hard for this moment.” He smiled and called out, “Rory! Get your harness ready!”

Rory’s eyes went wide. “Me? Really?”

Santa nodded. “You’ve earned your wings, my boy. Let’s see what that practice can do.”

The reindeer lined up, hooves poised on the runway. Snow sparkled beneath the moonlight as Santa called, “Ready, team?”

“Ready!” they shouted.

“Then let’s take off! ”

Rory ran with all his might, heart pounding, legs strong and steady. This time, he did not stumble. He soared into the air, clean, confident, and free. The wind rushed past his ears as he joined formation beside Dasher and Dancer.

“You did it, rookie!” Dasher yelled proudly.

“Welcome to the sky, kid!” Blitzen added with a grin.

Throughout the night, Rory flew with courage and joy, guiding the sleigh through clouds, storms, and dazzling northern lights. When they returned at dawn, Santa patted him on the shoulder.

“I told you hard work pays off,” Santa said warmly. “You’ve got something more important than perfect landings, Rory. You’ve got heart.”

Rory smiled, his chest glowing with pride. “Thank you, Santa. I won’t ever stop practicing.”

And he didn’t. From that Christmas forward, Rory became a permanent member of Santa’s team, the reindeer who proved that determination can take you higher than talent ever could.

Poem

If you slip or miss your mark,
Do not give up when times seem dark.
Fall and rise, then try once more.
Each new effort helps you soar.
The greatest flight begins with fall.
And practice makes you strong in all.
For every dream that’s ever true,
Begins with faith and follow-through.

Questions for Thought

1.     What made Rory different from the other reindeer?

2.     Why did Santa choose Rory in the end?

3.     How can practicing and trying again help you in your own life?

 

You Just Received a Stent: What’s Next?

You Just Received a Stent: What’s Next?

Introduction

Last Thursday, a new chapter began when a stent was placed inside a person’s artery to restore healthy blood flow and to safeguard the heart from the growing strain of a narrowing passage. A stent may sound mechanical or foreign, but it is ultimately an internal support beam, a small medical brace engineered to keep blood moving forward long after the procedure ends. Receiving one is not the end of the story; it is the moment that launches recovery, rebuilding, and a paced return to life’s everyday freedoms and activities.

Some may assume that healing is immediate, that activity can return the moment the bandage comes off, or that the stent is the finish line, but the truth is that the stent gives you permission to recover, not permission to instantly strain, lift heavy loads, or test endurance limits. Your body now carries a protector, but it still deserves a careful plan to prevent clots, pressure spikes, and unnecessary stress. Recovery is about returning to movement, strength, independence, and confidence in progressive stages, not rushing back into strain before the body is healed and cleared.

For anyone who has just received this intervention, the same questions always surface once clarity returns: What happens next? How soon can I move freely again? How soon can daily activity feel normal? The goal is simple: resume movement safely, regain strength steadily, and return to everyday normalcy with confidence, guided by time and medical clearance. This article gives you that roadmap.

Stent Recovery & Return to Activity Timeline

Weeks 1–2: Restoring Movement, Protecting the Access Site

✔ Begin light daily walking, short and frequent, slowly increasing if comfortable
✔ Gentle stretching only, no strenuous workouts
❌ Avoid lifting more than ~10 pounds
❌ No weightlifting, golfing, long hikes, lap swimming, or high-intensity exercise
❌ No pools, hot tubs, or soaking baths until the catheter site is healed

Weeks 2–4: Gradual Mileage & Gentle Core Engagement

✔ Expand walking distance if it feels normal for you
✔ Low-impact stationary biking or treadmill if cleared
✔ Light mobility work, light core engagement, breathing maintained without strain
✔ Putting or easy chipping style golf only if approved by cardiologist
✔ Lifting still limited to light resistance ~10–15 pounds
❌ No heavy lifting, no full golf swings, no straining, no breath holding

Weeks 4–6: Gentle Return to Low-Intensity Rhythm

✔ Normal walking distances can now continue expanding
✔ Swimming may resume if the catheter access point is fully healed and approved
✔ Very light resistance training or machines can begin with slow progression
✔ Light golf return allowed for some now, but only at reduced exertion
✔ Household activity, yard work, routine errands are usually fine
❌ Still avoid anything that involves heavy strain, max rotation, or high exertion

Weeks 6–12: Steady Progression Back Toward Strength

✔ Continue increasing resistance training, but stay under heavy strain
✔ More active exercise resumes for most people after clearance
✔ Lap swimming for those who do swim can resume after approval
✔ Golf, weightlifting, or sport exertion begins progressing toward normal
✔ Hiking, biking, or distance activities resume toward comfortable boundaries
❌ No 1-rep max lifts, no extreme strain, no aggressive sport or exertion without full clearance

12+ Weeks: Near Normal Activity for Daily Life

✔ Many normal daily activities resume without restriction for most people
✔ Strength training can continue progressive return without max strain
✔ Strenuous sports, aggressive golf swings, or heavy lifting usually wait until 3+ months or 12 weeks minimum, sometimes 3–6 months depending on physician clearance

Symptoms that Pause Progression

Stop activity and call your doctor if any of this happens:
⚠ Chest pressure, shortness of breath, dizziness, fainting, irregular heartbeat, unusual fatigue, or swelling at the catheter insertion site.

Conclusion

A stent is an internal brace, a medical beam, a small protector, and a signal that blood flow has been restored and the heart no longer fights as hard against narrowing walls. But its placement demands a smart comeback plan, not an instant race back to full exertion. Healing after a stent is about pacing movement, strength, endurance, rotation, resistance, and exertion in progressive stages that honor the heart, blood pressure, and catheter access point.

Not everyone plays golf; not everyone swims, hikes, or lifts weights, but everyone eventually wants to climb stairs, carry groceries, walk farther than the mailbox, and move freely without thinking about a healing artery. Everyone wants independence to feel like independence again. Recovery isn’t about how the stent arrived; it’s about the days ahead when movement returns, strength grows, endurance steadies, and the fog of fear begins lifting with every week of cautious progress and physician approval.

If some dismiss a story because technology helped polish it, they misunderstand the point, because the value lies in the meaning, not the tool. Likewise, the value of your life isn’t in the catheter, the wire, or the scaffold; it lives in what the stent protects: the ability to move forward again safely. So to anyone who has just received their stent: your recovery is not a delay; it is your body rebuilding the freedom to live its story again.

 

Rami the Ram Celebrates Yom Kippur - A Children's Story

Rami the Ram Celebrates Yom Kippur

By Bill Conley – America’s Favorite Children’s Storyteller

Moral of the Story:
Saying sorry is brave when your heart truly means it. Repairing hurt matters more than pretending nothing happened. Quiet moments help you hear the truth inside yourself. Forgiveness starts when honesty leads the conversation. Family is a safe place to learn and to start anew. God hears humble hearts closely. Small hearts grow big when they practice kindness, honesty, and courage. Peace settles in gently when apologies are sincere and love leads again.

In the gentle little town of Shalom Valley, autumn came soft and glowing. Leaves twirled like whispered prayers. The sky faded slowly at dusk, painted with pinks and purples, fading into a calm blue-black night. In a warm wooden home on a small grassy hill lived a young ram named Rami.

Rami was curious, thoughtful, strong in his school lessons, and gentle with his friends. But Rami carried a quiet struggle inside his chest, like a tiny drum tapping a nervous rhythm behind his ribs. When something went wrong, or when he made a mistake, Rami would feel the tug of wanting to say sorry, but then the words would stick like glue in his throat and refuse to step out into the open air.

Rami lived with his father, Reuben, who was strong, wise, and steady. His mother, Rivka, was warm, soft-spoken, and kind-hearted. Their house always smelled of apples, cinnamon, and honey bread during special seasons. Reuben and Rivka believed in guiding with listening, teaching with calm ownership, and loving without loud blame, because blame leaves marks, but gentle direction leaves lessons.

The Yom Kippur season was near, and in Rami’s home, this time of year always held deeper quiet. The grown-ups talked about a “Day of Atonement,” a day when hearts paused, noise softened, and everyone thought more about making peace with others, themselves, and God. Rami liked the feeling of peace, but he worried about the apology part. He thought maybe apologies were embarrassing, weak, or something only adults cared about. But in Judaism, apologies were not weak. They were cleansing, brave, purposeful, and honest.

One afternoon at school, Rami watched his friend, Miriam, help give out pencils to classmates who had forgotten theirs. Miriam was small and soft and loved storytelling in class. She once whispered to Rami, “You are strong enough to say sorry when needed. Strength has a quiet voice too.”

Rami admired Miriam, but he still wasn’t sure.

A few days later, a small mistake bumped into his life. It was nothing giant. Nothing mean. Just one moment of impulse that left a mess that needed fixing. Rami was carrying his school art project: a clay menorah he carefully shaped for the synagogue window display. He had molded it with deep care. No cracks. No sloppy smudge. Just smooth shaping, calm patience, and brushed-on detail. Kids passed by him gently on the way to the school garden. But Rami turned too fast without looking, bumped the display rack with his basket, and his clay menorah toppled onto the ground in a dusty thud.

The children gasped.

Rami’s heart dropped low.

A teacher, Mrs. Goldina, approached calmly to correct him gently. Correcting gently grows a heart taller on the inside. She said, “The art isn't broken. But the sorry needs to be spoken in truth, Rami. A cleaned heart begins with spoken repairs.”

The next morning, Rami visited the town square produce stand belonging to Mitzvah Market. He saw neighbors handing out apples with quiet charity and families picking up candles and prayer books for Yom Kippur night. Adults would fast, but children would learn from afar, and missing sorry from afar still needs spoken sorry to close the loop.

His father found him sitting in the shade of a pomegranate tree, shoulders slumped, wooly head bowed low.

“Rami,” Reuben said calmly, “do you know why we do this holiday each year?”

Rami looked up.

“To say sorry to God?” he guessed.

Reuben nodded. “Yes. But also to one another. And to yourself. And to anyone whose peace you may have bumped. The fast quiets distractions so the heart can speak truth. If you have hurt someone wrong, you tell them sorry with meaning… and then you make it right.”

Rami squeezed his eyes shut.

Oh.

He had bumped peace lately.

Not with hate.

Not with meanness.

Just careless speed.

Careless speed still leaves crumbs.

His mother, Rivka, came outside too, setting a gentle wool scarf around his neck that she had knitted slowly for Yom Kippur’s children’s tradition, crisp with kindness. “Fasting makes space inside. Sorry fills the space with healing,” she said.

That evening, as the sunset lowered itself humbly behind the hills, the town quieted, not in sadness, but in solemn togetherness. Families hugged tighter. Friends walked slower beside one another. Desk chairs sat empty at school the next day because Yom Kippur was beginning for the next 25 hours. The grown-ups would attend services, reflect truly, and fast from sundown to sundown. But Rami saw this was not a food-only tradition; it was a heart tradition, so hearts quieted pride and spoke truth.

Rami sat with his family in their living room. The lamp burned lightly. Calm oil flame flickering. The atmosphere was solemn but never grim; solemn can still smile gently, especially when hearts feel safe. He knew it was time.

No one forced him.

No one shamed him.

Because shame shouts, and Yom Kippur whispers.

He inhaled humbly.

Then he spoke out loud:

“Mama, Papa, friends of the valley, and anyone whose peace I bumped or bruised, I am sorry. My heart means it. I will repair what I can, do better, listen more, speak slower when needed, and help others clean their sorry baskets too.”

His father, Reuben, smiled the proud, soft smile of a father who sees a child growing up strong inside. His mother, Rivka, hugged him, their horns nearly bumping but not bumping because horns should swirl, not stab. The siblings listened calmly. Forgiveness was spoken softly by the other rams sitting in reflection too.

Rami walked to the synagogue hilltop as Yom services ended the next day, where lanterns glowed crisp and clear to his family and friends, reflecting God, tradition, and new starts. As Rabbi Reuben once taught him, Yom is about humble ownership.

Moral Poem of the Story:

Strong hearts speak softly when they repair.
Fasting hearts make room for better prayer.
Sorry heals more than hiding ever could.
Fixing it makes it feel understood.
Brave rams start new seasons clean on the inside.
Listening first keeps friendships easier to guide.
Apologies warmly spoken mend what was bruised.
Peace lives in hearts humble enough to choose.

Discussion Questions for Parents & Caregivers:

1.     What is one apology your child can practice speaking sincerely this week?

2.     How can your family make small moments of reflection part of everyday life?

3.     What gentle routine helps your child walk calmly, listen fully, and repair kindly when needed?