On a quiet Saturday afternoon, my friend and I were throwing stones onto the roof of an old lady's house. It didn't matter to me that I knew the old lady because I delivered the newspaper to her every day. The truth was we were bored, and throwing stones was something interesting to do-at least to boys like us.

I found a stone and sent it for a ride. However, it slipped out of my hand when I threw it. It hit a small window of the lady's house and broke the glass. The crash was very loud. We were afraid of being caught, so we took off without delay.

For the next few days, I was so worried about getting into trouble that I didn't think of the old lady and her broken window. However, when I was sure that I wasn't in trouble, I started to feel sorry about what I had done. Besides, I still had to deliver the newspaper to the old lady. Every day, she smiled at me when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer comfortable in her presence.

I made up my mind to save the money I made from delivering newspapers, and I calculated that seven dollars would cover the cost of repairing her window. In three weeks, I had the seven dollars ready. I put the money in an envelope and wrote a note. It said that I was sorry for breaking her window and that I hoped the seven dollars would cover the cost of repairing it. When It was dark, I walked quietly to the old lady's house, and slipped the envelope under her door. I felt relieved and couldn't wait to look straight into her eyes once again.

The next day, I handed the old lady her paper, happily returning the warm smile that I received from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, 'Here, I have something for you." It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and left.