The Giver

He remembered when hiss family received lily, the day she was named, the day that she had become a one.

There was never any confortable ay to mention or discuss one's success without breaking the rule against bragging, even if one didn't mean to. It was a minor rule, rather like rudeness, punishable only by gentle chastisement.

It was the sort of thing one didn't ask a friend about because it might have fallen into that uncomfortable category of "being different." Asher took a pill each morning; Jonas did not. Always better, less rude, to talk about things that were the same.

"Asher," she said, "Thank you for your childhood."

Jonas felt a ripping sensation inside himself, the feeling of terrible pain clawing its way forward to emerge in a cry.

Jonas had blinked, looked around and then tested his eyesight, squinting at the small print on the identification badge attahced to this tunic

Now sitting at his desk, staring at his schoolwork as his family hovered over the new child in the basket

Asher had groaned good-naturedlly, turned this bike and ridden back while Jonas waited

Then, in the same way that his own dwelling slipped away behind him as he rounded a corner on this bike, the dream slipped away from this thoughts

I think newchildren are so cute," Lily sighed. "I hope I get assigned to be a Birthmother." "Lily!" Mother spoke very sharply. "Don't say that. There's very little honor in that Assignment."