"Look Martin.  Those two grownups are fighting."  Kiev pointed 
across the grassy lawn to where two men were hitting each other with 
their fists. They could hear the two men yelling at each other.
     Kiev looked at Martin.  Martin was staring at the fighting grownups 
about 50 yards away.
     Kiev said, "I thought grownups never got into fights. Why are they 
fighting?"
     Martin shrugged.  "I don't know.  I know that I won't ever fight 
with you."
     Kiev smiled and nodded his head.  Martin was his friend, and 
friends never fought.
     Kiev always had fun when he and Martin played together every day 
after school.  When school was out for the summer, Kiev had finished 3rd 
grade, and Martin had finished 5th grade.
     It was now the season for firecrackers. Firecrackers were not a 1 
day thing like in some places.  The firecrackers were in the store before 
and after July 4th.  
     Kiev and Martin were playing with the small penny firecrackers.  
They were called penny firecrackers because they cost one penny apiece.
     Martin threw a lit firecracker.  It went out.  As Martin started to 
walk over to pick it up to relight it, Kiev yelled "wait!"
     Kiev walked over and prodded the firecracker with his right foot.  
He saw that the fuse had gone out halfway down.  Kiev picked up the 
firecracker.  "It is safe now. I wonder how dangerous these small  
firecrackers are."  Kiev held the small firecracker he had just picked up 
at the end opposite the fuse.  "I bet that if I held it at the tip end 
that it wouldn't hurt me."
     Martin said "You're crazy.  It'll blow your hand off!"
     Kiev lit the firecracker, and as the fuse was burning, shifted the 
firecracker so that he was holding the tip end of it between the tips of 
his fingernail and thumbnail. 
     Boom!  An instant of sharp pain and Kiev's right hand thumbnail was
gone. 
     Kiev yelled and looked at where his thumbnail had been.  He was 
surprised that it was bleeding only a little bit around the sides of his 
thumb.  He was also surprised to see that there was skin under the 
thumbnail.  He carefully touched the exposed thumb.  It did not hurt in 
the middle part, only near the sides where the bleeding had already 
stopped. 
     Kiev looked up to see Martin leaving.  
     "Kiev, you need to go home to get your hand fixed.  Don't let 
anybody know I let you hurt it,"
     Months later, Kiev and  Martin were playing on the sparsely 
wooded hillside above the junkyard.  
All the trees were pine trees.  There was a small tree by the path where 
they were playing.  
     Kiev leaned against the small tree, feeling the force of gravity 
tugging at him, trying to pull him down the hill.  He leaned more to one 
side of the tree to see how far he could lean and not be in danger of 
falling.  
     Martin asked "Kiev what are you doing?  Watch out or you will 
fall."
     Kiev said "Don't worry. I won't fall.  I'm just playing." 
     Suddenly Kiev lost his balance, and Martin reached out to catch 
him.  
     Too late!  Martin only pushed him.  
     Kiev tumbled down the hill and stopped only after scrapping his 
side against a large pine tree.  Ouch!  But what really hurt was knowing 
that Martin had pushed him.  A friend did not push a friend down the 
hill.  Martin was no longer his friend.
     Ignoring Martin's pleas that he had tried to catch him, not push 
him, Kiev ran home.  
     "How did you skin yourself like this?"  exclaimed his mother when 
she saw how badly he was hurt.  
     "I fell down the hill and scraped my side on the side of a tree." 
Kiev said.  He said nothing about Martin.  
     Weeks passed.  One day Kiev's mother said to Kiev.  "Why don't you go 
play with Martin?"
     Kiev looked toward the floor.  He mumbled "I don't feel like it."  
Then he looked up at his mother.  He saw her look of concern.  He  
shrugged his shoulders, and went to look for some toy to play with.
     More weeks passed.  Again his mother suggested that he go play with 
Martin.  Kiev said nothing.  But he decided to go by Martin's house.  If 
Martin was not home he could tell his mother that he tried to go play with 
Martin, but he was not home.
     Martin was home.  Martin was playing in his yard.  Martin ran out to 
the road to greet him.  Kiev felt confused.  Was Martin still his friend?  
Suddenly, Kiev realized that Martin was indeed his friend.  Martin, his 
friend, could never have intended to hurt him.  There had never been a 
reason for Martin to hurt him.  He had been wrong in thinking that 
Martin had tried to hurt him.