This Week's Featured Stories

If you're looking for a laugh, a midday pick-me-up or a dose of inspiration, you'll love our featured stories. You can read three free stories every month by picking from the selection below or by searching through every Chicken Soup for the Soul story ever published using the box to the right. You can also have stories delivered right to your inbox with our free, featured story emails. If you'd like to have unlimited access and be able to choose the perfect story for any moment, sign up for a premium subscription and have the freedom to enjoy any of our 20,000+ stories any time!


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21: Private Displays of Affection

Private Displays of Affection A wise lover values not so much the gift of the lover as the love of the giver. ~Thomas à Kempis I have never seen my parents kiss. Not once. Not even a peck on the cheek. I would imagine that they have — at some point. There must have been some romance during their courtship. But publicly, no one, as far as I know, has witnessed a display of affection between my mom and dad — except for the day they were married. My mom has tolerated my dad’s disinterest in all things amorous for almost thirty-five years and has rarely made mention of it. I’m sure that she would like to have some daisies on her birthday or a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day, but she is past the point of turning something frivolous into an argument. On more than one occasion, she has told me, “I know how to find the candy aisle in the store. No big deal.” “Well, that’s not how it will be when I got older,” said a younger, much more naïve version of myself. “My husband will bring me flowers every afternoon when he comes home from work. I will get sparkling jewelry for no particular occasion, cuddly puppies on Valentine’s Day, and expensive European chocolates at least once a month.” My mom... (more)
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22: Loopy Love

Loopy Love If you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything. ~Mark Twain “And then, they took me into the intimidation room where they… they pulled out this big scary machine and started to torture me,” he said as his eyelids drooped slowly again. I held his hand and brushed my fingers gently over his forehead and back into his hair. “That must have been so scary, honey!” I said as I winked at the nurse checking his vitals. “You’re so brave, sweetheart.” My husband Jim had gone in for a medical procedure and was now in the recovery room waiting for the anesthesia to wear off. He was normally strong, coherent, and rational, but today he was a groggy, grown man sitting like a toddler, wrapped in a blanket with both legs out straight. His tennis shoes were untied and dangling off the bed and he had both hands wrapped around a 7UP he was happily slurping from a bendy straw. When I first walked into the recovery room, he was mimicking a fighter pilot with his arms out — floating over a terrain of twists and turns, dipping his head to go down into valleys and then nodding his chin upwards toward the hospital ceiling to fly over the imaginary peaks. Every five minutes or so, he’d ask how I was, wondered about... (more)
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23: My Long-Suffering Co-Pilot

My Long-Suffering Co-Pilot If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep on walking. ~Buddhist Saying It’s hard to quantify how lousy my sense of direction is. If I had to guess, I’d venture to say that, at fifty-three, my frequent navigational goofs have added up to a total of five solid years of my life spent completely and hopelessly lost. And that’s just while driving. If you factor in false steps on foot, you’re up to seven years. The two years squandered getting lost on foot I can live with. After all, the average adult spends two years of his life just waiting for the guy ahead of him at the post office to pick between the American flag or the Legends of Boogie-Woogie stamps. It’s the five years lost in my car that makes me melancholy. After countless misguided journeys left me older but no wiser, my wife and long-suffering co-pilot, Sherry, suggested I keep a travel journal to chronicle trips of various durations, monitor driving patterns and — hopefully — learn from my mistakes. Submitted for your amazement and pity are a few excerpts from that journal.   Orlando, August 2006 While driving from our hotel to a nearby attraction called Church Street Station, my wife and I become lost. What makes this... (more)
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24: He Knows Me Well

He Knows Me Well One thing you learn in a long marriage is how many sneezes to wait before saying, “Bless you.” ~Author Unknown Years ago, shortly after my second child was born, I took up swimming laps to get in shape. I bought a Master padlock for my swimming locker. It was a beauty — a brilliant red body with black lettering and a shiny silver hasp. Seems like a strange thing to grow fond of but a red padlock is a whole lot more zippy than one of those plain silver ones. Plus it was really easy to pick out as I staggered around the locker room at six in the morning. A few years later, we bought a little farmhouse out in the country and moved out of our city house. My swimming habit died out with the distance. My poor lock went into the junk drawer and over time I forgot the combination. One day, while cleaning up a pile of paperwork, I found the magic numbers. Excited that at last I could once again use my scarlet beauty, I immediately went to the Rolodex and filed the little laminated chunk of paper. Months later, my daughter needed the lock for school. I nearly cackled in my glee, “I know where the combination is!” and ran to the Rolodex. I started with L. No combination. I tried M for Master. No combination. I tried C and P too but there was... (more)