The Cab Ride

(From an email I received several years ago, author unknown....)

        

        

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

        

        When I arrived at 2:30 a.m,  the building was dark except for a single

        light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers

        would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

        

        But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as

        their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of

        danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who

        needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

        

        So I walked 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 80'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 1940s 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 treated".

        

        "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

        

        When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, 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. "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, 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.

        

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID,  BUT  THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

        

        

        We won't get any big surprise in 10 days if we share this with those we

        care about but, we might help make the world a little kinder and more

        compassionate if we keep this in our hearts.

The American Businessman and the Mexican Fisherman

The American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

“Only a little while,” replied the Mexican.

The American then asked, “Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?”

“I have enough to support my family’s immediate needs.”

The American continued. “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

“I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my friends. I have a full and busy life, señor.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA, and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

“But señor, how long will this all take?”

“Fifteen to twenty years,” the American replied.

“But what then, señor?”

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you announce your retirement, sell your company stock to the public, and become very rich. You would make millions.”

“Millions, señor? Then what?”

The American replied, “You could sleep late, fish a little, play with your children, take siesta with your wife, stroll into the village each evening where you would sip wine and play guitar with your friends.”

Tentacles Quote from Joseph Smith

From Elder Orson F. Whitney:

“The Prophet Joseph Smith declared—and he never taught more comforting doctrine—that the eternal sealings of faithful parents and the divine promises made to them for valiant service in the Cause of Truth, would save not only themselves, but likewise their posterity. Though some of the sheep may wander, the eye of the Shepherd is upon them, and sooner or later they will feel the tentacles of Divine Providence reaching out after them and drawing them back to the fold. Either in this life or the life to come, they will return. They will have to pay their debt to justice; they will suffer for their sins; and may tread a thorny path; but if it leads them at last, like the penitent Prodigal, to a loving and forgiving father’s heart and home, the painful experience will not have been in vain. Pray for your careless and disobedient children; hold on to them with your faith. Hope on, trust on, till you see the salvation of God.”

In Conference Report, Apr. 1929, 110.

Are You Sick of Those High-Paid Teachers?

(from an email somebody sent me years ago....)

I, for one, am sick and tired of those high paid teachers. Their hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work nine or ten months a year!

It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do...babysit!

We can get that for less than minimum wage. That's right...I would give them $3.00 dollars an hour and only the hours they worked, not any of that silly planning time.

That would be $15.00 a day. Each parent should pay $15.00 a day for these teachers to babysit their children.

Now, how many do they teach in a day?.... maybe 25.

Then that's 15 X 25 = $375 a day.

But remember they only work 180 days a year!  I'm not going to pay them for any vacations.

Let's see... *that's 375 x180 = $67,500.00 

(Hold on, my calculator must need batteries!)

What about those special teachers or the ones with master's degrees? Well, we could pay them minimum wage just to be fair. Let's round it off to $6.00 an hour. That would be $6.00 times 5 hours times 25 children times 180 days =

 $135,000.00 per year.

Wait a minute, there is something wrong here!!!

Pictures from My Parents' Home

Thoughts

Live with heart. Lift up your head. Bring angels.

Discouragement -- What purpose does it serve? Paralysis. Paralysis! Do I HAVE to be discouraged when hungry, tired, or when bad things happen?

Give freely of your possessions. Give.

When we use our electronic devices we look down. We forget to look up. To people. To relationships. To serve. To God.

Reasons Why the English Language is Hard to Learn

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

13) They were too close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) After a number of injections my jaw got number.

19) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

20) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

21) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Rearranged Words and Terms

DORMITORY: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 DIRTY ROOM

PRESBYTERIAN: 

 When you rearrange the letters:

 BEST IN PRAYER

 DESPERATION: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 A ROPE ENDS IT

 GEORGE BUSH: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 HE BUGS GORE

 THE MORSE CODE: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 HERE COME DOTS

 SLOT MACHINES: 

When you rearrange the letters: 

 CASH LOST IN ME

 MOTHER-IN-LAW: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 WOMAN HITLER

 SNOOZE ALARMS: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S

 A DECIMAL POINT: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

I’M A DOT IN PLACE

 THE EARTHQUAKES: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 THAT QUEER SHAKE

 ELEVEN PLUS TWO: 

 When you rearrange the letters: 

 TWELVE PLUS ONE

For the People: Sam Brooks

(click to enlarge photo)

Life Lessons by Paul Harvey

We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better.

I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.

I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car.

And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen.

It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.

I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother/sister. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little brother/sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll let him/her.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.

On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.

If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.

When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy\girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.

If a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandma/Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.

May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.

I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Hannukah/Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.

These things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to appreciate life.

Written with a pen. Sealed with a kiss. I'm here for you. And if I die before you do, I'll go to heaven and wait for you.

Send this to all of your friends. We secure our friends, not by accepting favors, but by doing them.

Paul Harvey riddle:

When asked this riddle, 80% of kindergarten kids got the answer, compared to 17% of Stanford University seniors.

What is greater than God, More evil than the devil, The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it, you'll die?

Send this to 10 people and then press shift and you will get the answer.

P.S. You won't believe this, but this really does give you the answer!!!!

"A Positive Knowledge," by Juanita Brooks 1939

Excerpt taken from Lee Nelson’s Beyond the Veil, Volume III

Chapter 7: A Positive Knowledge, pg. 59-63

by Juanita Brooks

As told in a letter of consolation to a Brother and Sister Esplin who had just lost their son, Max.

September 11, 1939.

Dear Brother and Sister Esplin:

When I heard of your great loss, I felt that I must drop everything else and come out. I knew there would be little that I could do when I got there, but I did want to let you know of my sincere sympathy. But I did not get word of the accident until the morning of the services, and too late to get anyone to stay with my babies before Brother Schmutz left at nine o’clock. So I must use this poor way of substituting.

When death comes at the end of a long and useful life, it is beautiful. When it comes as release from hopeless suffering, it it a blessed release. But when it snatches one in the full flower of splendid young manhood, it is hard to understand. We cannot understand. If we try to get at the great “WHY” behind it, if we blame ourselves and think that if we had only done some things differently it might not have happened, we only add suffering to our sorrow. We must accept and trust, knowing that we cannot understand the purposes of God.

Dear Sister Esplin, I know you faith. In all my life I have never seen its equal. I am sure that your husband also has faith in the goodness of Him that doeth all things well. I know that you will receive comfort from that source, and assurance that all is right with Max, that he is well and happy, and in a condition to advance and accomplish things that he might not have had here. Be glad that his passing was swift and painless. He merely stepped out of this body into a new and beautiful life. 

I am tempted to tell you an experience of my own which has changed my whole attitude toward our passing from this life. I have told it before, especially immediately after it happened, and even wrote it then, so that I would not forget it.

It happened when I first came here to teach. I was not well, and I gave myself so completely to my work that I was completely exhausted every night. One evening I climbed the hill to my home, and was so tired that I went right to my bedroom and lay on the bed on my back.

Soon I had the sensation of being away from myself. Without any pain whatever, I was just separate from my body. I could see it, and wished that my mouth were closed. But I just kept thinking, “How strange! So this is what it is like to be dead!” I remember how I wondered at it and how surprised it made me.

“Francis will soon be here and find me, and he will call the folks,” (I thought,) and so my mind ran on.

Then suddenly, without the lapse of any time, I was at my father’s home in Bunkerville. I thought how sad (it was) that two who had had so many children should be there alone now. They were in the living room; there was a fire in the fireplace, and mother was stirring some mush in a saucepan over the coals. The house was so large and cold that they had not come into the kitchen to make a fire, and Daddy liked mush for his supper.

He was shaking some cream in a two-quart jar, because their one cow did not give enough to use the big churn. And he was telling her how one of the horses had got another into the manger and was kicking it.

“The old fool would have killed him if I had not gone out,” he said.

I remember little things like the fact that the lamp wick was not even and the flame was blacking the chimney a little on one side, and some ashes from the big log fell into the mush and when mother tried to get them out Daddy said, “What won’t fatten will fill.” I’m telling you all this to make you see how very real it all was to me.

And then in another flash, I was back in my bedroom in St. George, and on the bed, and able to move. But through it all I was filled with wonder, and kept saying, “So this is what it is like to be dead. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

And when I was looking at my parents in Bunkerville, I thought, “Soon they will get the word that I am dead.” I even wondered if the funeral would be in St. George or Bunkerville.

Well, Francis came just after I had come to and turned over. I told him all about it right then. That was Friday night, and on Sunday we went home to visit, and I told my folks, and every word of their conversation was real, even to the slang word mother used when the cinders fell in the mush, the churning, the horse in the manger, the smoking lamp, and all.

Dear friends, I didn’t expect to write this when I started. I don’t know why, except that the experience took the horror out of death for me. It gave me the positive knowledge that we are alive and conscious and intelligent after. I think that the Lord probably had things for me to do here, or I never would have come back.

This is an awkward expression of what I should say to you, but I do want you to know that you have my love and sympathy, and that I am sure all is well with your son. And I want you, Lucy, to know that more than any person I have ever met, you have been an inspiration to me.

The Lord bless you both, as I am sure he will.

Sincerely,

Juanita Brooks

Message from My Father

"Now that I am past 80, I have a renewed appreciation for my age. It has changed my view of death. I know that when I come out on the 'other' side of life, I will be with many of those whom I have loved on 'this' side. I view each day of life as a divine gift, especially with my wife. 

"The nice thing about being this age is.... my life now is timeless because it is so closely related to both sides of the eternal plan. 

"I can't 'get' old because I am old, and any years added from now on will be like icing on the cake. 

"Every experience I have had so far has proved to be preparing me for what will come....

"May we all pray now more than ever before that we will endure to the end and be welcomed by the Lord and those of our beloved ancestors. 

"Life is good."

Faith

Think of a Number from 1 to 10....

This is weird. Follow the instructions! NO PEEKING AHEAD! (From an email sent to me years ago)

Free will or synaptic wiring?  You be the judge. Do the following exercises, guaranteed to raise an eyebrow. There's no trick or surprise. Just follow these instructions and answer the questions one at a time and as quickly as you can! Again, as quickly as you can but don't advance until you've done each of them...

Now, think of a number from 1 to 10.

Multiply that number by 9.

If the number is a 2-digit number, add the digits together.

Now subtract 5.

Determine which letter in the alphabet corresponds to the number you ended up with  (example: 1=a, 2=b, 3=c, etc.)

Think of a country that starts with that letter.

Remember the last letter in the name of that country.

Think of an animal that starts with that letter.

Remember the last letter in the name of the animal.

Think of the name of a fruit that starts with that letter.

Are you thinking of a Kangaroo in Denmark eating an Orange?

If not, you're among the 2% of the population whose minds are different enough to think of something else. 98% of people will answer with Kangaroo in Denmark when given this exercise.

Jeff Litster's Choco-Story: Trick or Treat?

(From 02 November 2006)

The ladies in my life: my beautiful wife, Gwen; my soon-to-be 6-year old Mandi; and my soon-to-be 2-year old daughter Kimmie are all chocolate freaks.

Kimmie is especially known for spreading her chocolate love all over the place when she consumes it; especially all over her hands and face.

After the jubilee, she comes to flaunt it in my face by showing me her chocolate hands... usually getting some on me, which is alright because then I get to share in yummy goodness too.

That is, until tonight. Being as it is only two days after Halloween night and having buttloads of chocolate all over my home, it's natural to see Kimmie with chocolate fingers all-day-long.

Tonight is extra special. I'm sitting at my computer, checking some email and talking a friend through getting two computers networked together so he can play some network video games with his buddy.

Kimmie comes down in her usual flaunt style... chocolate all over her cute little hands... waving them at me to pick her up and help her get cleaned up. She gets the usual dab of it on my fingers and as I go to lick it off; I don't taste the sweet sensation I'm used to tasting.

Needless to say, the friend was immediately and without warning put on hold (phone dropped to the floor;) my toddler and I make the world's fastest dash upstairs where I promptly unload her on my wife (giving her the 10-second cliff notes summary of how my adorable angel-baby has stuffed her hands down her diaper to find treasure... and then haul my sorry tainted mouth to the bathroom for an emergency "chocolate" evac (otherwise known as a good toothbrushing.)

Needless to say, I won't be using that toothbrush ever again. Nor will I be licking the chocolate off my hands that my ever-so-sweet and cuter-than-cute daughter so lovingly shares with me... EVER... AGAIN.

Moral of the story: Next time someone tells you to eat $#!Z... I don't recommend it.