The Best Life Stories

Grand-Prize Winner: Homeward Bound

By Jim Ruland, San Diego, CA 

When I was in the Navy, I drank like a sailor. When I got out of the Navy, I drank like a sailor. You could say I went overboard. Swam with sharks and chased mermaids. Spent all my clams in the octopus's garden. The deeps and the darks suited me fine. Closing time came; I looked around. I was all alone in Davy Jones's lockup. Looked for a way out, but there was no ship in the bottle. Just more bottles, and every one an ocean. Took a long time before I settled on the bottom. But look! A boat on the horizon. A life raft with my wife and daughter in it. "You're here," they cheered. "Take us ashore!" "I'm just a drunken sailor," I said. My wife reeled me in. "No, you're the captain." I looked to the stars and plotted our course for home.

THE JUDGES SAID: Jim Ruland's story sails along on clever metaphors, but on a deeper level, it's a moving look at one man's desolation and the renewal he found in his family's faith and love. It's a tale you'll want to read twice — and share.

Chase the Day

By Audrey Hagar, Los Angeles, CA

I was my own worst fortune-teller. The future just meant more disappointment. Childhood trauma was my excuse to stay closed and overly cautious. Why invite more shame and pain? Then I met Chase. The pound called her unadoptable. They said years of physical and mental abuse prevented her from being "normal." She would be better off dead. We took her home. Maybe I saw myself in this dog. At first she snarled and tried to bite us. I understood that need to put up a tough front. But then Chase became open, happy, and fearless. She didn't bear grudges against humans. She explored her new world and wrestled her new dog friends. She didn't dwell on the past as permission to avoid adventure. Chase, as usual, perches on my back as I type this story about a creature who now embraces the future without looking over her shoulder. 

THE JUDGES SAID: Sometimes our best teachers come with four paws and a tail. By rescuing Chase, by taking a chance, Audrey Hagar changed her life and left the past behind.

A Meaningless Diagnosis

By Brian Mayer, Antelope, CA

Most would not smile in my position. I sat across from the psychiatrist, holding my wife's hand as our two-year-old son played inattentively in the background. "The severity of your son's autism will likely prevent him from ever being independent. It is very possible that he will never speak or have friends. The comorbidity of mental retardation will compound these challenges." The psychiatrist paused and examined our expressions. My wife clenched my hand a little tighter, but she, too, smiled because we knew firsthand that the diagnosis was meaningless: When I was three, a psychologist told my parents the same thing about me. 

THE JUDGES SAID: This story had us on the edge of our seats — until the very last sentence, which blew us all away. 

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All These Things Plus One

By Nicole Malato, Toms River, NJ

I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a sister. I am an aunt, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. I'm an HR manager and a Mary Kay consultant. I'm an experienced bridesmaid. I was the head of my church youth group. I'm an MBA graduate. I am not a great dancer; I'm a klutz. I'm one who helps others, and I'm a Roman Catholic. I'm a country music fan and a BlackBerry junkie. I am blessed with amazing family and friends. I am strong. I am an allergy sufferer. I am one who loves to laugh. I am afraid of heights. I'm a Jersey girl, with an honorary Pennsylvania girl membership. I'm a fan of the smell of sunblock, cigars, and roses. I am a scatterbrain. And I am one more thing. I am a breast cancer patient. And someday, I will be a breast cancer survivor. 

THE JUDGES SAID: Every patient is so much more than her diagnosis, but sometimes we lose sight of that. Go, go, Nicole!

Primatology

By JJ Keith, Los Angeles, CA

"No. Not ape. That's a monkey." She's two and a half, and the one thing she knows for sure is that the rhesus monkey at the zoo is an ape. Maybe she'd get away misidentifying primates if she had a different mom. I whisper, "I have a degree in physical anthropology, and I'm telling you that's a monkey. He has a tail. Apes don't have tails." I look around, relieved that no one heard me debating with a toddler. She pats me on the shoulder and condescends beyond her years, "No, Mom. That's a monkey." I've met my match, or rather, I made her. I'm on the other side of myself now. I spent the first 30 years of my life correcting people, and now I'll spend the next 30 being corrected. I deserve it, but my poor husband. He didn't ask for two of me. 

THE JUDGES SAID: Here's an irresistible case of like mother, like daughter. Or should we say, Monkey see, monkey do? Regardless, we had a ball reading it!

Evolving Farmer

By Julia Boyce, Foster, RI

I didn't decide to become a farmer; it sort of just happened. When my husband brought home Cowie, a young steer, I made it clear that I wasn't sure I could eat an animal we had raised, let alone one with a name. We never did eat Cowie, but he was the start of our transition to farmers. We began raising meats for ourselves. The "local, all-natural" market wasn't big back then, but friends were begging to buy meats from us. We soon built our own butcher shop. We now raise all-natural beef, lamb, and poultry. We also process meats for other local farmers. When people ask me how I can eat something that was once in my backyard, the answer is easy. I want to know what's in my family's food and that the animal had a nice life. We don't name them anymore, though.

THE JUDGES SAID: We don't always pay enough attention to what we're putting on our plates and in our mouths, but Julia Boyce does. Her story makes sustainability something we can easily relate to.