“Scooting Over,” Friend, May 2006, 47
Last year in my fourth-grade class there was a boy whom nobody respected. At lunch our table always got really crowded, and no one would scoot over for him. I knew that this wasn’t right, so whenever he asked me to scoot over, I did. One day one of my friends asked, “Why do you always scoot over for him?” I answered, “That’s what I’d like someone to do for me.” I know that when I scooted over he appreciated it. I felt good inside too, because I believe that it was what Jesus would have done.