Wednesday’s Quote From Dalai Lama

Tuesday’s Thought From Theodore Roosevelt

Tuesday’s Thought from C. Hosher

Free Write Friday; Time & Place Scenario – Dear God, What Now? – Part 4

“Sure,” she said and with that pulled the wallet out of her purse and handed her $300.

The woman’s eyes were bigger than silver dollars at the sight of the money.  ”May God richly bless you for this!!!”

Reggie smiled at the woman and walked away with a warm feeling inside.  Silently she whispered to God, “That felt great, Father!  I wish I could do stuff like that every day for the rest of my life!!”

Too keyed up to sleep or sit in a room watching TV, Regina decided to go for a walk and see the sights, whatever that might be.  She had only traveled for a few blocks when she saw a couple walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street and they were both laughing and whispering to each other.  Right there on the ground was a homeless couple all bundled up in their coats and huddling to get warm.  

A wave of anger shot through Reggie as she realized that the couple went walking right past them while  laughing at the same time.  How cruel people can be, she thought and made a beeline across the street.  Just as she got within hearing distance, Reggie heard the woman sniffling and knew she was crying.

“Don’t pay any attention to snobs like that!” she said practically spitting the words out of her mouth.  The couple both sat up and stared at her with shocked expressions on their faces.  Then it was her turn to be shocked.  Now that they were not hunched over, Reggie could see that they had been sheltering a young girl of about 6 or 7 years old.  Trying to keep her warm more than likely.

“Hi! My name is Reggie, do either of you speak English?”

“Yes, I do!”, the little girl answered her in the sweetest voice she had ever heard, she sounded like an angel.    “My name is Suzette and these are my parents Caroline and Robert.”  The couple stared back at Suzette and spoke rapidly in German to her while gesturing towards Reggie.

“My parents would like to know what you are doing in Switzerland, do you live her or just touring?”

“Actually, this might sound a little crazy but I’m on a sort of mission from God.  I think I’m standing right here at this very moment because I’m supposed to help you.” Reggie replied to the young girl but was looking at her parents as she spoke.  She then reached down into her purse and withdrew the wallet from it.  She opened it up with a silent prayer, “How much God?”  

Reggie immediately felt more than she actually heard the amount of $1000, so she counted out 10 of the $100 bills and handed them to Suzette’s mother who was staring at her with tears streaming down her cheeks.  Caroline jumped to her feet and began hugging Regina and thanking her profusely!

Then she could have sworn she heard a whisper in her ear saying, “Well done!”…   to be continued

Teresa Marie 5/16/12 ©


#FWF Free Write Friday; Time & Place Scenario

by kellieelmore

Maybe Next Time

* This is an older poem based on a quote from one of my first twitter followers and fellow blogger.  I read it again for the first time in almost a year and revised it some, pasted it this picture and posting it again for your enjoyment.

Thanks Eyob for the quote and your faithful friendship!

The Life You Live (Revisited)

* I wrote this poem back in 2008 after watching a program about the skyrocketing numbers of homeless in America.  With so many families losing their houses, children sleeping in the streets and going to school with hope of a meal for the day, etc.  I cried through the whole thing and then sat down and wrote this poem.

Help!

In This Thing

Free Write Friday; Finish this Line

*image source: dreamworlds.ru

Here is your Free Write Friday Prompt:
Finish this line…
“One of the hardest/most important/best (<- your choice) lessons I have ever learned was…” Elaborate.


Free Write Friday; Finish this Line

by Kellie Elmore

The Old Phone On The Wall

 

This e-mail was so touching that I had to share it:

THE OLD PHONE ON THE WALL.  
 
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it. 

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
  
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.
“Information, please” I said into the
Mouthpiece just above my head.
 A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
 
“Information.”
 “I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough
Now that I had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.

“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered. 

“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.
 
“No,” I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”
 
“Can you open the icebox?” she asked.
  
I said I could.
 
“Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice. 

After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for
help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.
 
She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
 
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,  Information Please,” and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”
  
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ” Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”
 
Somehow I felt better.
 

Another day I was on the telephone, “Information Please.”
  
“Information,” said in the now familiar voice. “How do I spell fix?”
I asked.
  
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
 
Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
 
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.”
 
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
  
“Information.”
 
I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying,
“Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”
 
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”
 
I laughed, “So it’s really you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any
Idea how much you meant to me during that time?”
 

I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me.
  
I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”
 
 I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
  
“Please do”, she said. “Just ask for Sally.”
 
Three months later I was back in Seattle .  A different voice answered,
 
“Information.”
I asked for Sally.
  
“Are you a friend?” she said. 

“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.
  
I’m sorry to have to tell you this,”She said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”
  
Before I could hang up, she said, “
Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?”
 
Yes.” I answered. 
 
“Well, Sally left a message for you.
She wrote it down in case you called. 
Let me read it to you.”
 
The note said,
“Tell him there are other worlds to sing in.
He’ll know what I mean.”
 
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant. 
 
 
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
 
 
Whose life have you touched today?
 
Lifting you on eagle’s wings.
May you find the joy and peace you long for.
 
 
Life is a journey… NOT a guided tour.
  
I loved this story and just had to pass it on.
I hope you enjoy it too.
 
 
Wasn’t that story great?  I loved it so much that I couldn’t resist putting it on here for you to read!
Teresa Marie