6 Stories
- Why are you so special to me?
- A Brother's Love
- A Prayer for a Friend
- Hospital Windows
- Best Time of My Life
- Do You Have a Second?
Why are you
so special to me?
A Brother's Love
This is an
important lesson - giving when it counts.
Many years
ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a
little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious
disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood
transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously
survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed
to combat the illness.
The doctor
explained the situation to her little brother and asked the
little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his
sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep
breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save her." As the
transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and
smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek.
Then his face grew pale and his smile faded.
He looked
up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start
to die right away?" Being young, the little boy had misunderstood
the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister
all of his blood in order to save her.
And he was
willing to do that for her.
~ Author
Unknown ~
A Prayer for a Friend
It was an
unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and
everything was alive with color. But a cold front from the North
had brought winter's chill back to Indiana.
I sat,
with two friends, in the picture window of a quaint restaurant
just off the corner of the town square. The food and the company
were both especially good that day.
As we
talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street. There,
walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying all his
worldly goods on his back. He was carrying a well-worn sign that
read, "I will work for food."
My heart
sank. I brought him to the attention of my friends and noticed
that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads
moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued with
our meal, but his image lingered in my mind. So, we finished our
meal and went our separate ways.
I had
errands and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced toward
the town square, looking somewhat half-heartedly for the strange
visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call
for some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I
made some purchases at a store and got back in my car.
Deep
within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: "Don't go back
to the office until you've at least driven once more around the
square." And so, with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As
I turned the square's third corner, I saw him. He was standing on
the steps of the store front church, going through his sack. I
stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet
wanting to drive on.
The empty
parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: an
invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the
town's newest visitor. "Looking for the pastor?" I asked. "Not
really," he replied, "just resting."
"Have you
eaten today?" "Oh, I ate something early this morning." "Would
you like to have lunch with me?" "Do you have some work I could
do for you?" "No work," I replied. "I commute here to work from
the city, but I would like to take you to lunch."
"Sure," he
replied with a smile. As he began to gather his things, I asked
some surface questions. "Where you headed?"
"St.
Louis."
"Where you
from?"
"Oh, all
over; mostly Florida."
"How long
you been walking?"
"Fourteen
years," came the reply. I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat
across from each other in the same restaurant I had left earlier.
His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years. His eyes
were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and
articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal
a bright red T-shirt that said, "Jesus is The Never Ending
Story."
Then
Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in
life. He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences.
Fourteen
years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had
stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some
men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment... A
concert, he thought. He was hired, but the tent would not house a
concert. But revival services, and in those services he saw life
more clearly. He gave his life over to God.
Nothing's
been the same since," he said, "I felt the Lord telling me to
keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now."
"Ever
think of stopping?" I asked.
"Oh, once
in a while, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has
given me this calling. I give out Bibles ... that's what's in my
sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His
Spirit leads."
I sat
amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission
and lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a
moment and then I asked: "What's it like?"
"What?"
"To walk
into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show
your sign?"
"Oh, it
was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments.
Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a
gesture that certainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it
became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives
and change people's concepts of other folks like me."
My concept
was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered his
things. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and
said, "Come Ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I've
prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I
was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in."
I felt as
if we were on holy ground. "Could you use another Bible?" I
asked. He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled
well and was not too heavy. It was also his personal favorite.
"I've read through it 14 times," he said.
"I'm not
sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by our church and
see." I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do
well, and he seemed very grateful. "Where you headed from here?"
"Well, I
found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon."
"Are you
hoping to hire on there for a while?"
"No, I
just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star
right there needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next."
He smiled,
and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his
mission. I drove him back to the town-square where we'd met two
hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. We parked and
unloaded his things. "Would you sign my autograph book?" he
asked. "I like to keep messages from folks I meet."
I wrote in
his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my
life. I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a
verse of scripture from Jeremiah, "I know the plans I have for
you," declared the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm
you. Plans to give you a future and a hope."
"Thanks,
Miss," he said. "I know we just met and we're really just
strangers, but I love you."
"I know,"
I said, "I love you, too."
"The Lord
is good."
"Yes, He
is. How long has it been since someone hugged you?" I asked.
"A long
time," he replied.
And so on
the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I
embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed. He put
his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, "See
you in the New Jerusalem."
"I'll be
there!" was my reply.
He began
his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his
bed roll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned and said, when
you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for
me?"
"You bet,"
I shouted back, "God bless."
"God
bless." And that was the last I saw of him. Late that evening as
I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had
settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car.
As I sat back and reached for the emergency brake, I saw them ...
a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length
of the handle.
I picked
them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would
stay warm that night without them. I remembered his words: "If
you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for
me?"
Today his
gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world
and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two
hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.
"See you
in the New Jerusalem," he said. Yes, Daniel, I know I will..."
If this
story touched you, forward it to a friend! "I shall pass this way
but once. Therefore, any good that I can do or any kindness that
I can show, let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way
again."
~ Author
Unknown ~
Hospital
Windows
Two men, both
seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was
allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help
drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's
only window.
The other man
had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for
hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their
homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service,
where they had been on vacation.
And every
afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he
would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things
he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began
to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be
broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the
world outside.
The window
overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on
the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers
walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow.
Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city
skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by
the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the
other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the
picturesque scene.
One warm
afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it
in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it
with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed.
One morning,
the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find
the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died
peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital
attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed
appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the
window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making
sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly,
painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first
look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of
seeing it for himself.
He strained
to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a
blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his
deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside
this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could
not even see the wall.
She said,
"Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
Best Time of My Life
It was
June 15, and in two days I would be turning thirty. I was
insecure about entering a new decade of my life and feared that
my best years were now behind me.
My daily
routine included going to the gym for a workout before going to
work. Every morning I would see my friend Nicholas at the gym. He
was seventy-nine years old and in terrific shape. As I greeted
Nicholas on this particular day, he noticed I wasn't full of my
usual vitality and asked if there was anything wrong. I told him
I was feeling anxious about turning thirty. I wondered how I
would look back on my life once I reached Nicholas's age, so I
asked him, "What was the best time of your life?"
Without
hesitation, Nicholas replied, "Well, Joe, this is my
philosophical answer to your philosophical question:
"When I
was a child in Austria and everything was taken care of for me
and I was nurtured by my parents, that was the best time of my
life."
"When I
was going to school and learning the things I know today, that
was the best time of my life."
"When I
got my first job and had responsibilities and got paid for my
efforts, that was the best time of my life."
"When I
met my wife and fell in love, that was the best time of my life."
"The
Second World War came, and my wife and I had to flee Austria to
save our lives. When we were together and safe on a ship bound
for North America, that was the best time of my life."
"When we
came to Canada and started a family, that was the best time of my
life."
"When I
was a young father, watching my children grow up, that was the
best time of my life."
"And now,
Joe, I am seventy-nine years old. I have my health, I feel good
and I am in love with my wife just as I was when we first met.
This is the best time of my life."
~ Author
Unknown ~
Do You Have a
Second?
By Bob
Perks © 2001
"You are
worth more than all the money in the world!"
"I
wouldn't trade you for nothing!"
"You're
more valuable than gold!"
"Indispensable!"
Gee, it
must be somebody important. Bill Gates? President Bush?
No, it's
usually the person who you least pay attention to every day. It's
the person in your life whom you take for granted. It's the one
who is just always there as part of the background in your
hurried little life.
It's your
best friend. It's your neighbor. It's most likely someone even
closer than that. Mom. Dad. Husband. Wife. Brother. Sister.
Child.
"Oh, they
know I love them. They know how important they are to me. God,
what would I do without them?"
I don't
know. But pray that you never find out.
You see
just this week I received wonderful heartfelt messages from
people who have had their lives turned upside down because that
person I described in the beginning of this message is gone.
Dead.
Divorced. Run away. In a coma.
Left
behind are people saying wonderful things about them and they
aren't there to hear it. Remaining here are people wondering what
hit them because now they feel so empty and lost because of that
void left by their absence.
With it
all, the most tragic part of it all, the heaviest burden of it
all ... regret!
"I know I
should have told them more often."
"If only I
knew this was going to happen I would have been more attentive."
"You know
one day we were planning to..."
Petty,
stupid reasons about being too busy, not aware, miles separated
us, they never told me, I always thought they knew, he was so
healthy, I didn't know she was depressed, I just figured...
Regret
by Bob Perks
I thought you'd always be there
Just a touch away
I tried to say I love you
I meant to every day
But you know how the world is
With work and time and such
I always knew I needed you
I didn't know how much.
I
shouldn't have to say another word to get my point across. But
here are the words of one Mother who wrote to me:
"He was
born and gone in a span of 18 years. But it seems like a second
in time. I blinked and he was gone. They say a car suddenly
pulled in front of him. It took a second for my whole world to
turn upside down. I never realized how valuable time was. Because
it would have taken me just a second to say "I love you!" that
day. I didn't. I didn't take the time to tell him."
So, do you
have a second?
