This was written many years ago, but it's always stayed with me. I hope it stays with you, too.

Susan's pudding was staring at her.

Last night it had been the mashed potatoes, the night before, the string beans.... Susan had not eaten them. She did not like being stared at. She plopped her spoon down in the middle of the pudding and shoved it away. It glared at her.

"Susan! Eat your pudding!" her father commanded.

"But I don't want it!" Susan replied, pouting.

"I don't care whether you want it or not. I paid perfectly good money for that pudding and you're going to eat it."

Susan intensified her pout and looked hopefully toward her mother.

"Now, Harry," her mother said soothingly, "maybe Susan isn't feeling too well."

Her father was unmoved. "All the more reason she should eat it--it will do her good. I know lots of little girls who would be very grateful to even have pudding with their dinner."

"They can have mine," Susan mumbled, looking glumly into her glass of milk.

"Susan," her father said solemnly, "do you know what happens to little girls who don't do what their parents tell them? They get sent to cold, dark house and they never have pudding to eat."

"Harry, I wish you wouldn't say things like that," her mother said. "It will frighten the poor child."

"Well, didn't I spend four years in a home for unwanted children?" her father demanded. "A child ought to realize how lucky she is to have a decent home and family..."

While her mother and father were thus engrossed, Susan sneaked a quickk glance at her pudding. It glowered back. Susan made a face and stuck her tongue out at it.

"Susan!!" Her father's voice was like frozen flames. "That will be quite enough! I will not have a daughter of mine sticking her tongue out at me. You go up to bed this instant before I decide to give you a good walloping!"

Susan dejectedly got down from ther chair and slowly walked from the kitchen, her chin on her chest. She turned at the doorway, expecting a reprieve. Her father had taken her pudding and had a spoonful halfway to his mouth. The puddihng leered at her.

"Daddy, don't!" Susan shrieked.

Her father looked at her sternly from beneath a heavy scowl. "To bed, young lady! I don't intend to let good food go to waste." And he scooped the spoon into his mouth.

"I'll be up in a moment, dear," her mother said with a little smile.

Susan turned and went to her room. After a long, long while, she fell asleep.

Some time later, Susan awoke with a start. She was terrified. It was there, somewhere. Slowly, she turned toward the partly-opened door to her room.

Susan's father was stariing at her.