An Old Irish Blessing ... May the road rise up to meet you.May the wind always be at your back.May the sun shine warm upon your face,and rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again,May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

"It is said some lives are linked across time. There are certain people connected by an ancient calling that echoes through the ages....destiny."

Life is a fleeting moment. Why live life in moderation and control when it lasts so short a time. Love until you drown in the happiness, laugh until the air you breath escapes you, cry until your tears are dry and live like the next second death will take your soul. Life is yours to live, and live it you must, not in the fear of what is to come next. That Next Place is waiting for you. It waits, in the hope that you will come fulfilled and ready, not in longing and regret.

Thank You For Being a FRIEND!*°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°*”˜˜”*°•.¸☆♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵Ʒ..•°*"˜ ☆ ¸..•´¨¨)) -:¦:-.(ړײ)/       ¸.•´….•´¨¨)).«▓       ((¸¸.•´ ¸.•´.-:¦:-. ╝╚ ….. ... `♥♪♫-´¯

Wishing you a wonderful new week..Like little birds, we only fly when we get shaken out of our nests; and develop the strongest wings only when we try them against the wind. The dove in a fable, was perturbed because the wind ruffled its feathers, but without that air it could neither soar nor live. In struggle, it is prudent to not wish away every opposition. It is better to meet and master our difficulties that faith can be made stronger through conflict.~Leroy Brownlow~With much love allways

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

A Sweet Lesson on Patience ... (sad story)

thoughts and sentiments ƸӜƷ˜”*°•.•.¸ღ Heal Ourselves, Heal The World's photos · Heal Ourselves, Heal The World's Profile ... Borrowed from Facebook. Heal Ourselves, Heal The World A Sweet Lesson on Patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote: I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. 'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.' 'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. 'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. 'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.' I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

2 comments:

  1. Ag, jinne, dis 'n mooi storie ~ en so baie waar!

    ReplyDelete