Rise and Grab Glory


How you play today, from this moment on, is how you will be remembered. Take the opportunity to rise from the ashes and grab glory…

We Are Marshall, 2006

Hello, coffee lovers and avid readers! Welcome to Olive’s Tasty Quotas at Olive’s Café, where you get a taste of philosophy and messages from works of art.

My friend sent me a video of the scene from We Are Marshall (2006), and it was the scene where the new football coach, Jack Lengyel, is giving a speech in front of the memorial, where the names of the former team members and other victims in the plane accident were carved on the marble. Even though the team hasn’t had any luck with winning their games, it didn’t stop them from playing, and eventually win their game in the end. From the loss and the grief of the community, his speech inspired the team to take the opportunity to redeem themselves. The reason that she sent the video to me was because we were both going through a rough time in our lives, and the obstacles that we were facing were so overwhelming, I thought that they were too hot to overcome. What that scene did for me was show me how to redeem myself by getting up from my fall and rising to the light.

When I look at “glory” in this quote, I think about how we can win honorably when we achieve in anything we work hard in, even during the time of grief and loss. In the times of redemption, we reflect on where we fell from and why we need to get up and keep going. While we redeem ourselves, we see glory as our goal, our reward for coming out of the ashes after we get burned. As human beings, we work hard in achieving our goals, and even build ourselves up in the process. Through our hard work, we fall to the ground, sometimes with bumps and bruises, other times without a single scratch. No matter how many times we fall, we always get up to grab our glory, especially with our bumps and bruises.

Whether you’re in the military, education, medicine, law, business, or in the arts, everyone can grab glory. We see it a lot in sports, especially when an athlete is recovering from an injury, retirement, or scandal. What we can learn from these athletes is how they play their sports. They take a break from playing, reflect on their mistakes, or the mishaps that occur in their career, and they build themselves. Only they come back stronger than before. Besides athletics, people in other careers would have to go through something that takes a toll in their lives, whether it’s a loss of a family member, an operation gone wrong, losing a case, a deal that took the wrong turn, or an art piece that offended an audience. I would recommend anyone to watch the scene when they go through a big loss in their career, as it can ultimately affect their lives.

What glory looks like to me is of a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. For me, falling is as easy as writing my name, for a long time, at least. When I fall, I give myself a hard time by punching myself internally over the mistakes that I’ve made. I do learn from them eventually, and that’s when I come back stronger. It takes time, as I work on myself by doing what I love most and even reading personal growth books to help. Out of the 28 years living in this lifetime, it took me almost 2 years to redeem myself after falling and cleaning up my wounds. It’s still a working progress for me personally, but the progress is well worth it. Glory, to me, is when I can take my life as an example, write it in my novels, and make people happy through my stories. When we redeem ourselves in time, we get closer to having glory ourselves.

One thing’s for sure, we can always take the opportunity to rise from the ashes, and grab glory. All we must do is get up from our fall and keep going.

Thank you for tuning in on Olive’s Tasty Quotas at Olive’s Café!

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Enjoy your coffee artistically!

Organization


Hello, coffee lovers and avid readers! Welcome to Olive’s Corner at Olive’s Café, where you get insight on thoughts of life.

 

Here’s my opinion on organization: I love being organized, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep myself organized. I can keep track of what I have, and easily get rid of things that are not important. It’s boring, but it’s essentially beneficial to life, whether I’m doing art projects, wanting to find a book to read, or even prioritizing my assignments.

 

Although, it can take time when it comes to organizing your space. Some people plan out their organizing after looking at their space, while others just organize their storage because they don’t have time to plan, even when it takes more time to organize. Here’s some advice: pick a day and time to organize yourself, whether it’s your house or office. I recommend the weekend before the evening time so it doesn’t interfere with your plans, or a day that you need a break from work so you can be more relaxed. If you’re at work, organize as you work, and prioritize tasks.

 

What makes me grit my teeth is my top 3 people: the messy, the careless, and the nosy. These people make my skin crawl, my blood boil, and my gums hurt. If you haven’t noticed already, I’m an organizing freak.

 

Let’s begin with the messy people. The messy people are those who throw things around and stuff them anywhere they see fit. Not only that, they take even longer time to find what they need. What’s worse is when other people are looking through space they share with the messy people, and they can’t find anything. You can’t tell what’s new or old, clean or dirty, essential or garbage. I understand that time is of the essence, but it will be better if things were put where they belong. Not to benefit others, but to benefit themselves.

 

Then, there’s the careless people. Not as messy, but they take stuff and then leave them somewhere else. To people who love organization, that’s annoying, even for employees and customers. Customers ask employees for what they need, employees can’t find it in the proper place, everyone gets upset, and then later employees find it in another place. In my opinion, it’s the employee’s job to maintain the stores, not clean up after people. Here’s an idea: don’t leave the area until you can return the item to its proper place. It’ll be easier for all of us who care a little more.

 

It’s a bit much, I know, but careless people make me grit my teeth so much, I’m losing enamel on my teeth.

 

Lastly, the nosy people; the people who just touch things. They’re harmless, I must admit, and all they do is touch things. What makes them annoying is that once they touch something, one of two things happen: something breaks, or they see something they’re not supposed to see. It’s not a big deal to some people, but to others it’s “invasion of privacy”. When they touch my things, I feel like they could break or misplace something. Once they touch something, they start messing around until they see something new and more interesting. I don’t know about you, but personally, it’s annoying.

 

What all three people- the messy, the careless, and the nosy- have in common in organization is one thing: they mess up the system. Organization is a system that helps people move and move fast. No offense, but these three people get in the way of that. I know that people like some anarchy, but trust me, even anarchy can screw us over. However, here’s the good news: organization doesn’t necessarily have to be everywhere. In the art world, organization exists through instruments and materials, even measurements. Freedom comes in when the work begins. Organization helps a lot, but it doesn’t have to take over our lives.

 

Organization, in my opinion, can be helpful to keep track of the things we have, and later use them. Organization, as a system, can help see things clearly, and even help bring things to light hidden in the dark. If you have trouble with organizing your space, feel free to comment below.

 

Remember, when you have trouble organizing, just consider timing and prioritizing, and if it helps, write your plan down. Organization can become second nature when you develop the habit.

 

Thanks for tuning in on Olive’s Corner at Olive’s Cafe!

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Now On Fiverr!!


Hello avid readers and coffee lovers! Welcome to Olive’s Cafe, where you can enjoy your coffee artistically! I have great news for those who need help with writing and editing documents! Kathryn Oliver, owner and writer of Olive’s Cafe, is now available on Fiverr, where you can find gigs on everything you need! Go to fiverr.com/olivescafe91 for a quote and to get service! Thanks for tuning in on Olive’s Bulletin at Olive’s Cafe! Enjoy your coffee artistically!

Phantom in the Park


Hello coffee lovers and avid readers! Welcome to Olive’s Library at Olive’s Café, where you can read the stories of adventurous characters as they explore life.
Here’s a story of a man in his inner thoughts:

The birds chirping. The sun exposed. The grass and trees smell fresh like water. Speaking of which, the pond is populated with lily pads and ducks. I look around, and people are walking, smiling, and talking. Talking. Lots of talking. I’m not big on talking.
 
Observing. That’s my thing. No cellphone, no book, nothing with me. No distractions.
 
I don’t know, I just like looking.
 
Usually I get dirty looks from people when I stare too long. I almost got my ass kicked when I stared and smiled like a creep. Creep. Am I a creep? I just like looking. What’s wrong with looking? Sigh I don’t go to many places. Dirty looks and foolish threats. Why?
 
I just like looking.
 
A young boy sits next to me, holding his ice cream. Ice cream. Just looking at it makes me cold, but now I can’t help but crave it. I stare at the ice cream. Should I get myself ice cream? It’s just down the street. Yet, I don’t want to lose my spot. I sit here every day in the afternoon, right between writing my journal, and brunch. I sit here every day in the afterno-
 
“Mister, would like some of my ice cream?” The little boy interrupts my thoughts. I blink once. Then again. I think I stared too long. I shake my head to the boy as I answer, “No. Thank you. I will get it later.” The boy shrugs and continues to eat his ice cream. I look back at the park. All of a sudden…
 
“Hey Nemo, let’s go. Grandma’s waiting for us,” A woman walks up to the boy next to me. I look at her. All I see is this angelic glow around her. It could be the sun. It could be her.
 
Sigh I just like looking. Now, I like looking at her.
 
As I continue to look at her, the woman looks at me. Her smile fades, her eyes glosses. Then, slowly, her smile comes back. “I’m so sorry, sir, I hope my son didn’t disturb you.” I continue to look at her. I blink once. Then again, before I answer, “It’s no issue. He’s been kind to offer me ice cream.”
 
Wow, I’ve never spoke this much to anyone. I look at her, and she continues to smile at me. “Well, I made sure this young one is kind. Isn’t that right, Nemo?” Nemo. Sounds adventurous.
 
Not me.
 
I just like looking.
 
The boy nods and gets off the bench. The woman grabs his little hands, and before they walk away, the woman says, “Take care, sir.”
 
They walk away.
 
I stare at them. Just stare.
 
Then, I wave. Whoa, a first! I never wave at anyone. Usually, people wave me off or curse at me. For looking.
 
I don’t know, I just like looking.
 
Looking.
Looking.
Looking…
 
I look at the pond. The ducks are swimming. The wind is blowing, leaves moving. And I’m just looking.
 
Then, I wonder. Will I ever see Nemo, and that woman again? I hope so.
 
Maybe, I have something to look forward to tomorrow. I’m hungry. Looking makes me hungry. I feel like a sandwich. Time to go to the café down the street…
 
The Next Day
 
I walk in the park after tea and biscuits. Small breakfast. I don’t have time to eat breakfast. It’s time for the park. I look at my favorite bench. I see them. Nemo and the angel.
 
I smile.
 
That’s a first… I walk to my bench. I sit next to them. The angel turns, looks, and smiles at me.
 
My eyes wide.
 
OH! Shiny white teeth.
 
“Hi there! Nice to see you again,” The angel speaks.
 
I jitter.
 
I get goosebumps. She’s so pretty. I blink once. Then again. Next, I say, “Hi. Nice to see you again, as well.” I look down at my hands.
 
I have nothing in my hands.
 
I look up. The sky is clear. The sun exposed again. I look the pond. No ducks. The trees and grass are green and smell fresh like water.
 
This time, I smile. I appreciate the smell.
 
I look at the angel. She smiles as she asks, “Do you like the park a lot?” I nod. I just like looking. Should I tell her that? I respond, “I feel at peace. Every day.” She nods, understanding my statement.
 
We continue to sit at my favorite bench. I don’t let anyone else sit with me, or even without me.
 
I just like to sit here and look.
 
But, Nemo and the angel? They’re an exception. They’re kind to me. They didn’t give me dirty looks. They didn’t run. They didn’t slap me. This is new to me. New. Speaking of which…
 
“How long have you lived here?” I ask her. She smiles as she says, “I lived here for 2 weeks now. I live with my mother and son.” Then, I wonder…. Where’s the boy’s father? “I don’t mean to be in your business, but what about-“
 
“Nemo’s father? He passed away in a car accident last year,” she answered for me. The angel turns to Nemo and says, “Nemo, you remember the nice man from yesterday, right?” Nemo looks at me and smiles as he nods. I look at him and smile. “Hi, Mister,” Nemo greets me. I wave and say hi back. Then, Nemo tilts his head in curiosity.
 
Does he like looking too? Or is there something in my face?
 
He opens his mouth, and then asks me, “What’s your name?”
 
What’s my name? I hate my name.
 
So introverted. Annoying. Nonsense. Makes me feel like a ghost. A silent one. All because I just like looking. But, let me entertain the boy.
 
“Phantom,” I say.
 
The angel looks at me in shock. She’s starting to question my name.
 
Then, she gives me a suspicious look. “Really? Is that your real name? Or do people just call you that?” she asks. I shake my head. “No, my mother called me that when I was born.” The angel crosses her arms and sits back as she crosses her legs. Nemo is looking at me too.
 
I confirm to her, “It’s my real name. She thought it suits me. When I was in womb, I wouldn’t move so much. At least that’s what she told me. Growing up, I didn’t like doing a lot. I was just there…”
 
Looking.
Looking.
Looking…
 
She frowns.
 
She squints her eyes.
 
“Strange,” she states.
 
I laugh.
 
I shrug. “Well, after getting older, I didn’t mind. I still don’t.” Finally, she nods.
 
“Well, my name is Angel,” she says.
 
Angel.
 
Angel… That name fits her. The shiny glow, the kindness in her town. She truly is Angel. I smile. I look at her. I just like looking…at her.
 
“Angel. It’s a beautiful name for someone who is one,” I claim.
 
She blushes. How cute. Cute. Me? Not so much. I just sit at the park and look.
 
I just like looking.
 
“Well, Phantom, it’s a cool name to us. Right, Nemo?” Angel asks. Nemo nods in excitement. Angel and I laugh. I liked looking. Now, I like laughing more. I feel happy, and welcome. No more feeling lonely. No more staring.
 
Angel, thank you for our beginning…
 
The Following Day
 
I sit at the park.
 
Crying.
 
I stare at the pond. Tears falling. The clouds block the sun.
 
It’s dark in the afternoon.
 
I’m alone in the dark.
 
Crying. I look down at my hand.
 
A letter left for me. It has my name on it. I found it on the bench when I came to the park. I opened it.
 
Angel and Nemo are gone. Forever. Angel and her family are moving.
 
Tomorrow.
 
Just when I thought I had a friend.
 
This is depressing. Why do I bother coming to the park?
 
The park. I get peace from the park just from looking.
 
I used to like looking.
 
Now, I don’t like to look anymore. My new friend. Gone. From my life. It feels like I didn’t exist to begin with. All because I just like looking.
 
Looking.
Look…
 
Speaking of which. I look at the note again.
 
She left me her number. My tears stop falling.
 
My day brightens up under the clouds.
 
I smile. Angel left me her number. Under her number: Let’s keep in touch I look at the note. Her handwriting is beautiful.
 
I just like looking at the note.
 
I will call her when I get home.
 
I smile once more.
 
Maybe, my name does fit me.

Please comment on your experience with Phantom. Have you ever went somewhere so peaceful, you would have conversations with your inner thoughts.

Thanks for tuning in on Olive’s Library at Olive’s Café!

Enjoy your coffee artistically!

A Brother with a Dream


Hello coffee lovers and avid readers! Welcome to Olive’s Library at Olive’s Café, where you can read the stories of adventurous characters as they explore life.
Here’s a story of a brother with an aspiring dream:

The sun is out, and there’s only a few clouds in the sky. The sky, a beautiful blue. I continue to look out the window as we move. Green trees, grass, and just free space. Boy, I would love to run around with my best friend, Rover. But today, I’m on a mission; I have someone special to see. Someone that means so much to me. It’s been 7 years straight, and I don’t know what has changed over the years.

I look to my left, and my roommate is just focused on the road. His face straight, a few blinks to keep himself awake. I kept asking him if I can drive. He just swats me away like a fly. I laugh at him, because he’s just so focused on the road, and I don’t know if he’s even aware of his actions. For 3 hours, I would pick on his ear, give him the wet willy, and all he does is smack my hand away and even attempts to bite my finger. He doesn’t even shout, nor slips. He’s just so focused.

Maybe he’s as nervous as me, and this is the first time that he’s going to see my family. Best of all, he will see why I’ve been so anxious and adamant about going home. And soon, he will understand why I have spent every waking day and waking night working on my gift. I turn away and go back to watching the nature as we drive by. Bright sun, blue sky, some clouds, green trees and grass. Everywhere.

As we get closer to Tampa, my heart starts to beat faster. I get nervous. I start sweating, like I’m on a race to the finish line. I wipe my forehead as we reach the traffic light. Finally, after 4 hours of driving, my roommate looks at me, disgusted, as he says, “What happened to you, Mike?”

“Nerves,” I say after a few seconds. Actually, I squealed. After I cleared my throat, I say, “Nerves. It’s just nerves, Nick.”

“Oh my God,” Nick sighs as he wipes his eyes and face. Then, he turns to me and says, “I have driven for 4 hours to get to Tampa, and now you’re nervous. Back then, you were excited.”

“I would have driven myself if you had let me 3 hours ago,” I say to him, eyes wide open. Is he serious now?

“The reason I didn’t let you drive is because you’re slow, and you would have turned back. For whatever reason, I don’t know. But now that we’re here, I’m NOT turning back now until you’re satisfied with… whatever that you did,” Nick explains.

Damn, he’s right. Why is this guy always right?!

I wipe my face again and take deep breaths, I hope that nothing goes wrong. Just thinking of seeing my family after 7 years makes my brain hurt.

Just remember why you left home. It wasn’t because you didn’t like it. It was because you have a dream. Remember that.

It’s a constant reminder as to why I left Tampa to live in Miami. It’s not that I didn’t find a reason to live in Tampa, I just thought that I can find something better in Miami. Boy, I was wrong. But I did make the time for myself to come up with something that can help my family. I could just imagine…

I calm down after my breathing exercise and nod my head. “You can do this, Mike,” I reassure myself, “You can do this.”

“Dude, stop talking to yourself. You’re freaking me out,” Nick says, as turns left on green. After a minute, we started to laugh.

Nick is such an ass. But I can’t thank him enough for coming with me.

Nick isn’t blood, but we’ve been friends since middle school. He knows almost everything about me and my family, but the one thing he doesn’t know is my younger brother, Matt.

I look out the window again, this time, the blue sky turns from yellow to purple. The clouds are turning gray, and the sun setting to allow the moon to rise. Shit, Nick and his literature…

Wow, evening already…

15 minutes later, and we park in front of my family’s house. Single family, one story, just like how my mom likes it. My dad doesn’t mind, but he would like a man cave to relax in. *”Oh, you know how your father is. Always stressed at work, and then comes home. You know, the Flintstone family style,” My mom always tells me over the phone. It’s comical to see my father look like Fred. Come to find out, that’s what Matt likes. At least, he used to like it…

I help Nick with our bags and head towards the porch. My mom, Nancy, comes out excited, and rushes to hug me first. I drop my bags and hug my mom back. “Oh, Merry Christmas, Mike! I’ve missed you so much!” “Hi, mom,” I say, my words muffled in her shoulders as I hug her. She lets go of me, and then hugs Nick as she says, “And Merry Christmas to you, too, Nick.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Callaway,” Nick greets back. She lets go and tells us to come inside. We step inside, and out comes my dad, in an ugly Christmas sweater. “Hey son!” My dad greets. As he comes to hug Nick and I, I ask, “Dad, what’s with the sweater?”

My dad pulls away, and looks down at his sweater, looks back at us and says, “Hey, since we don’t have snow here in Florida, might as well keep on the Christmas spirit, yeah?” he chuckles at his own remarks. We laugh with him, well, because he’s kind of right.

I mean, why not?

“All right, now, guys, let’s get you settled to your room, as I prepare dinner. Now, go on,” my mom tells us. Nick and I go to our room and settle our bags on the floor. I grab my backpack and pull out my brother’s gift. I smile at it, knowing that my brother will like it. For 7 years, I had no sleep, little to no food, and missing out on all the fun with my other friends, but it was all worth it. It is worth it.

He will like it.

“He better like it, whatever it is,” Nick says as he plops on his bed. I look at him, shocked that he can read my mind. Before I can ask, he says, “You’ve been gawking at it like Nikola Tesla with his own inventions. Sheesh.”

I chuckle a little and shake my head as I set the gift down my bed. Then, I hear the door open and close.

That must be Matt coming from school…

I look at Nick and ask, “Ready to meet my brother?” “Yeah, sure,” Nick says, as he gets up and grunts. As we both walk out of the room, I tell Nick that he’s getting older and fatter. We both laugh and then… I see him.

Matt, all tall and grown up, and he’s only 15. We stop in our tracks, and as Matt puts down his back, he looks at me. He smiles as he runs to me in silence. We hug each other, tightly, and I can hear a little whimper coming from him. That’s how he cries. Then, I feel his tears. I pull back and wipe his face. “Hey, you’re grown now. You can’t cry in front me like that. What will the ladies think?” I joke. He squints, and he smiles widely as to seem he’s laughing. He is laughing.

Damn, this kid and I can see eye to eye now.

I turn around and lead him to my friend. “Nick, this is my baby brother, Matt. Matt, this is my roommate and best friend, Nick,” I introduce them together. Matt goes for the handshake, but Nick grabs him and gives him a brotherly hug. As they pull away, Matt smiles widely at Nick. “Bro, you are, like, seriously, tall. We all laugh and walk to the dining room table for dinner.

As we sit down, I tap my brother on the shoulder for him to see me and say, “I have something for you, but after dinner.” Matt nods, and then goes to the kitchen. Nick looks at Matt walking away, and then at me to ask, “What’s wrong with Matt? He can’t speak?”

I tell Nick, “Well, he’s been hard of hearing in his left ear since he was 5 years old. He can speak, but only when he wants to. He loves to write, though. Just like you.”

“Hey, what can I say? Writing is a great way to communicate. Ask the ladies,” he says as he leans back and expands his arms. “Yeah, what ladies?” I ask. We laugh as my dad comes to the dining room table to sit with us.

“Mike, Matt is so excited to see you. I mean, he started writing all over the fridge telling us in an essay,” my dad announces. We laughed really hard at it, but at the same time, it fills my heart.

Matt isn’t usually excited about many things, from what my parents tell me. Ever since I left to pursue my dream in technology, he didn’t want to speak anymore. Having me around was the only thing that gave him a reason to communicate. Soon, though, he will have no choice. He’s going to want to communicate.

As we dinner, I ask Matt, “Dad tells me that you won a contest with the newspaper. Congrats!” Matt smiles as he looks at me, and then says, “Yeah… I wrote about how technology can either hurt us or help us in the future. You know, sci-fi stuff.”

I nod and ask him if I can read it later. He nods and then eats his smash potatoes. “Nick, you’re a writer. Why don’t you help my brother with his work?” I ask Nick. “Oh, absolutely dude! Maybe help you with some romance writing, if you know what I mean,” Nick winks and nudges at Matt. Matt looks at him as he says, “I’m a sci-fi dude. Besides, ladies love science.”

We all laugh as Nick sits there dumbfounded. “Psh, whatever. I’ll still help you, only because you’re cool,” Nick says after a minute. I shake my head at Nick being ridiculous, and we finish our dinner just before 8:30pm. Okay, I need to stop looking at the time…

Nick, Matt, and I sit outside on the porch, and watch the stars from the sky. Nick taps on Matt’s shoulders to get his attention and he asks, “Hey bud, do you have any friends at school?” Matt nods, and he responds, “Yeah, but… not a lot, though. Only a few, that’s it.” Nick turns his head slightly and squints his eyes.

Oh no, he’s gonna ask that question…

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Nick asks. I hit myself in the face with my palm, and Matt laughs inaudibly at Nick. After Matt calms down, he answers, “No, I don’t. Not looking for one, now.”

“Come on, why not?” Nick asks as he throws his hands in the air.

“Maybe because he’s too young right now,” I say to Nick, looking at him sternly. “He’s only 15, Nick.”

“So? I had like 2 girlfriends by the time I was 15,” Nick points out.

“Nick, stop counting your cousin and your science partner,” I argue. Matt squeezes his eyes shut and laughs… inaudibly. I laugh with him, but compared to him, I sound like a major dork with the wheezing and laughing real loud.

Nick looks at us like we’re messed up, and says, “It’s no wonder Mike doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Hey, you should hear yourself laugh. Dude, you sound like a dying hyena begging for water in the desert,” I argue back. Matt throws himself back as he continues to laugh. Nick and I continue to argue back and forth about girlfriends, and the lack of. What made Matt release tears as he laughed is when I told Nick that he’s going to end up with a Cyndi Lauper look-a-like from the 80’s as a wife. With lots of cats. Lots. After 30 minutes of arguing back and forth, we head back inside, and I get Matt’s gift from my room. I walk to his room and see him sitting at his desk.

I knock on his door and announce that I’m here. Matt turns around and says, “Hey.”

I sit on the edge of his bed as I hold his gift, and say, “I know Christmas is in two weeks, but I wanted to give you your gift early, so you can use it soon.” Matt looks at me with glossy eyes, excited about this gift. He wipes his eyes on his pants in anticipation, and then I hand him his gift. He grabs it but doesn’t open it. I look at him, then the gift, and then at him again as I ask,” What’s wrong, buddy?” He looks at me for a minute, then says, “I just… thought about something. I forgot to say thank you for coming back to us. It wasn’t easy… you know?”

I nod my head in agreement. “I know, it’s hard to communicate when you can’t hear clearly. It’s even more difficult when you don’t have something to communicate with when you don’t want to communicate verbally.”

Matt nods his head, then starts to open his gift. He looks inside, and his eyes open wider. He looks at me, then back in his gift, and then back at me, just to see if this moment is really happening. “No way,” Matt whispers in excitement. I nod and smile as I say, “Yeah.”

Matt looks in his gift again and pulls out the cellphone and a box that holds something unique. He turns on the cellphone, and then sets it back into the box as he holds onto the smaller box. He asks as he examines it, “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” I tell him. He opens the smaller box, and he covers his mouth as he begins to tear up. Looking at my brother cry out of pure joy made me feel accomplished. 7 years of hard work made my brother cry in joy. “That’s why I was gone for 7 years. I made you something to help you hear and communicate,” I say to him. I point at the ear pieces and I explain, “These ear pieces are Bluetooth and they connect with your phone. You can call people, hear the alarm, and listen to music. So, you don’t have to use earphones or other Bluetooth devices. Just your ear pieces. Turn it on.”

After wiping his tears off, Matt turns on the ear pieces and squeals. Although the exterior is black, we can see them light up in red, blue, green, and yellow, signaling that they’re on. “But remember, Matt,” I begin to remind him, “you have to recharge them every 90 days. Otherwise, you can’t hear clearly. Pretty cool, huh?” Matt nods at me, then gives me a huge hug.

After we let go, he grabs the ear pieces and then turns to work on his phone. He puts on a song, and shrieks as he listens. “This is awesome, dude! I can listen to people talk on the phone.”

“Yeah, I know!” I say in excitement. After we calm down, I tell him, “I understand that Mom and Dad can’t afford for your ear piece, nor a cellphone. And from what I hear from them, the doctor was trying to give you crap ear pieces. But not for my little brother.” Matt smiles at me. Then, he says, “You know, before these ear pieces, you sounded quieter. Now, it’s crystal clear.”

With a hopeful tone, I announce, “Just imagine what I can do for other kids with the same condition as you. Then, everyone can listen.” Matt looks at me with glossy eyes, with hope that I can change the world, as I was able to change his.

Please comment on what you thought about this story. Was there anything that you did, or are doing now, for someone you love and at the same time can help others?

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New Post on Olive’s Cafe!


If you were to listen to someone’s story, of how they grew up and what they had to grow through, what would you think? You have the opportunity to look at the story of a young girl’s growth in “From Crybaby to My Best Self” in Olive’s Library at Olive’s Cafe. Check it out, and don’t forget to like and comment!

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From Crybaby to My Best Self


Hello coffee lovers and avid readers!

Welcome to Olive’s Library at Olive’s Café, where you can read the stories of adventurous characters as they explore life. Here is a story of a young girl: wondering where she is in her life and experiencing her growth:

All my life, I’ve wanted to share my story, and I wanted people to be interested in what I have to say. I don’t know whether to leave out any details or to disclose everything that I have to say, and my story may not be as heartbreaking or as fascinating as everyone else’s. Nevertheless, I want to share my story because it means the world to me for anyone that is just like me to read this story. Or, at least, is going through the same situation as me…

As a child, I was a crybaby: I would cry whenever I wouldn’t get what I wanted, and it’s usually the things that other kids have, and I don’t. What’s unfair is that my mother would have to deal with it on her own. Then, my siblings would pick on me because I cry, but so did the other kids. They couldn’t help it: they were just kids, and they wanted someone to tease. They say it’s only for fun, but they stopped whenever I cry. It was no wonder I didn’t have any friends. I was just too sensitive.

So, why would they pick on me, you ask? Well, I never really understood why they would pick on me. They told me that they pick on me to make me laugh, and to get along with me, but I would end up crying all the time. They even stopped having fun with me because I cried a lot. I just ruin all the fun when I cry. I even make my mom mad when she’s already stressed out. She doesn’t get paid enough for this…

As I watched my mother raise five kids and working, I felt bad for her. Not only that, she had to deal with one kid that cries 24/7. My dad wasn’t around growing up, and when I did see him, it was because my mom would call him to come for my 9th birthday. Between you and I, 3 of my siblings are actually my cousins. Their parents couldn’t deal with them, so my mom took them in under her care. My other sibling is my eldest sister, but she always acts like a child. Well, like I’m any better…

Whenever I looked at my siblings together, it made me want to cry. Even my sister liked hanging out with them, especially when they were all close in age. I’m literally the baby out of all 5 of us, and it was frustrating knowing that I’m the only kid in the family that went to elementary school, while the older kids were going to middle school…

As I grew older, I didn’t cry as much as before, but I still cried nonetheless. Although, no one wanted to be around me, at least some would actually talk to me, and I was a little happy about that. My mom still had to work, but at least it’s only to support just me. My siblings have grown older and have moved on to their own lives. However, I can’t help but feel lonely sometimes. Contradicting, right? Therefore, I have grown lazy, bored, and introverted. Though, I also grew smarter (if that was even possible), and even my mom smiles from time to time. Even though I accomplished a lot in the academics, it was still not enough to grow: I needed to be street smart. They told me that if I’m not street smart, I wouldn’t survive in the world. My siblings were adamant about it, but I was just too lazy.

Then, when I started working, my perspective changed. Well, I had to work because my family was pursuing me about it. Anyway, after I started working, I bought my own things and even helped my mom with the expenses. I even continued school while working, but I had no time to sleep or cry. Shocker, isn’t it? What’s even a bigger shock was that people wanted to be around me. It was too good to be true, and I didn’t know how to behave. After some time, one friend told me that my behavior wasn’t acceptable. So, I had no other choice but to grow up. After taking the time to reflect myself, it made me realize that I was still trying to figure it out how to grow.

I did my best not to cry so much, and it worked with therapy and a little communication. It took some time to transform myself from being a crybaby to my best self, but it’s well worth the work.

Please comment below if you can relate to this character, or if you have words of opinion.

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Coming Soon to Olive’s Cafe!


Coming Soon to Olive’s Cafe:

Olive’s Gallery: Page of artwork from the owner and other artists!

Olive’s Radio: Page of playlists of favorite songs from the owner and requested by readers, along with videos posted on YouTube!

Olive’s Studio: Page to request submissions of artwork and written content for the blog!

Olive’s Cafe Magazine: Issues based on different artistic themes and articles on what’s going on in the world of arts and humanities!

Thank you for tuning in on Olive’s Cafe!

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Coming Soon!!


After the Spring Semester, I will be focusing on my blog and bring new stories, more fables, and opinions. I will also writing new (and maybe random) posts to keep you updated. I apologize for not being able to blog for the past two years, but I have been very busy with work and school. However, I have more than available time in the summer to write some more.

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Enjoy your coffee artistically!