Meet Jennifer Hawkins

Jennifer Hawkins is a fifteen-year-old sophomore this year at Lincoln High School in Wheaton, Illinois. For this interview, she wore a Christian t-shirt with extremely small, tight shorts. She has long, straight brunette hair and fat ruby lips and high cheek bones. A bit on the skinny side but tall, Jennifer has a light brown birthmark splotch on her left thigh. The spot has the shape of a map of Italy with the boot facing the wrong way. There is no mistaking the sweet, soft voice of Jennifer Hawkins or the shade of her dark green eyes and her rosy, high cheekbones.

Jennifer, how are you today?
Okay, I guess. You know, it’s a nice day out. I wore my shorty to school.

What’s it like in high school?
It’s the best. I’m like a sophomore this year so I’m hip to what’s going on and it’s, you know, I get to hang with the cool kids.

So do you have a boyfriend?
My over protective parents don’t allow me to date yet so no.

But you like someone in particular, right?
I don’t have a boyfriend. I told you I can’t date yet. Ask me that question next year.

So you’re not into boys yet?
Didn’t say that, did I? Boys are hot, especially upper classmen, like juniors and seniors. Seniors are really mature, you know what I mean? They get it when it comes to what a girl likes and they all have their own cars. When I’m old enough to date, I’ll only date seniors.

So if you can’t date until next year, are you scouting this year’s juniors?
Scouting? I’m not above checking out a boy’s bottom, but I’m like a good girl. A Christian. No I don’t think about boys. Well, maybe once in a while if I meet a hot one. You know, good looking. I’m not talking about hopping in bed hot. I just mean good looking, attractive. Dynamite buns.

Anyone in particular?
I have my eye on a boy or two, but like I said, no dating this year. I don’t want to date. My parents are right. You start dating too soon and the girl ends up pregnant or broken hearted. I want to wait. See, I have my chastity ring. I’m waiting for marriage. And I’m going to college, so boys can wait.

Care to name any names of hot boys in the junior class who might be on your checkout list for next year?
What’s your hang up with boys? Why do you care who I like. You’re a little old to be asking so many boy questions. What are you, a perv or what?

Sorry. You know how it is when you write a novel. You have to write about people you know and so I want to learn what I can about you including your likes and dislikes.
Can’t you just wait to find out like everybody else? Write the damn story and see for yourself who I like. Sorry, I said damn. It just slipped out.

Okay, let’s move on. It’s just that, you know, I’m talking to the boys and your name did come up.
Really? Who?

(Smiles)
Oh, I get it. You can’t tell me. But so tell me anyway. No, let me guess. I bet it was either Bryan Ganarski or Gilbert Armstrong. I spotted them checking me out at youth group last week.

Do they qualify as hot?
One of them does. Don’t know about the other.

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Curious to learn more about Jennifer Hawkins?

Snpgrdxz…

Wisdom

When I entered the coffee shop, one customer stood in line. Behind the counter, three attractive teenage girls bounced with youthful joy.

As it turned out, the woman in front of me was the mother of the first young lady behind the counter, the one on the left. When her daughter gave her the drink, her mother said something sweet, “Thank you, my blessed beauty.”

The girl in the middle brightened. “Hey, that’s what my mother calls me!”

The third girl, the one on the right, cast her eyes upon the floor. “My mom calls me her ‘blessed mistake.’”

We sometimes say things to our children as a joke or to tease them, not meaning the words to be hurtful at all, but we forget who we are in their eyes and how much our children look to us, even in their teen years, for approval and recognition. The young lady attempted to cover her hurt with a forced smile.

When my turn came, the young lady on the left took my order and the one on the right, her mom’s “blessed mistake,” filled it for me.

Is there wisdom in keeping quiet at such times, giving my silent approval to the pain upon a stranger’s face? On the other side of the stainless steel machinery, she started making my drink. When she looked up at me, I said, “You were never a mistake, you were a gift.” She smiled and held back all but one tear that trickled down her right cheek as she whispered a hoarse “Thank you.” When she handed me my drink, I found I was blessed with the richest, most chocolaty café mocha I had ever tasted. So I guess we blessed each other that afternoon and there’s wisdom in that certainly.

When are our words blessed gifts and when are they blessed mistakes? Wisdom, it seems, is silent until the question itself is asked. Wisdom knows when to speak and when to refrain from speaking. Wisdom knows when to question and when not to question. Wisdom knows when to bless and when to withhold a blessing. Wisdom knows when to teach and when not to teach. Wisdom endures the bad times knowing good times will follow. Wisdom knows in which direction to travel and which path to take, for wisdom knows the goal and is steadfast in achieving the goal.

What is wisdom? Wisdom is not knowledge, for knowledge alone goes nowhere. Wisdom is not cunning for cunning alone does not bless. Wisdom is not intuition, for intuition alone knows no discretion. Wisdom does not reside in the head alone, but also in the heart. Wisdom is the product of a heart that seeks faith, hope and love for these are the true treasures of life. Above all wisdom seeks to love. For in loving, wisdom learns all that it needs to know and do to be happy. Wisdom teaches that you were never a mistake, you were a gift.