I never get sick. That’s what I thought until a mean case of bronchitis threw my whole life out of whack. It had been over a week, and I still felt tired and run down. I stared out the picture window in my living room. The sky was gray and overcast, downright dreary. But I had to get out of the house. I got changed for a walk, and wrapped my red lambswool scarf around my throat.
I strolled along my country road, worries tossing about in my mind like the tree branches swaying in the wind around me. Had I used up all my sick days at work? When would I feel up to cleaning the house again? Had I forgotten to call a friend and cancel plans we’d made for the upcoming weekend?
My scarf was rubbing my neck, so I took it off to rearrange it. Just as I held it up to double fold it, the wind whisked it out of my hands. It danced in the air for a moment, dangling just out of my reach.
Then the scarf sailed off and caught on a bush. As I got close, another gust of wind sent it flying. Off I went after it.
Was it ever going to land? I almost caught the edge, but…whoosh! I burst out laughing. Was the wind playing a game with me?
Finally the scarf landed on the ground. I picked it up and shook off the leaves. Wrapping it around my neck, I had practically forgotten all my worries. Sometimes the best medicine in life is a good laugh.
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