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What Do You Value Most

Attitude2

A BEAUTIFUL PRAYER

THE SHOES

THE BRICK

ATTITUDE
IF YOU LOVE GOD

SOME THINGS YOU KEEP

TAKE THE TIME

THINGS I'VE LEARNED

THE ROSE

STORY TO LIVE BY

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What Do You Value Most?

A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door. 

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. 

In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him. 

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." 

Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" "Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. 

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him, he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said. 

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said. 

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away. 

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. 

The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture... Jack stopped suddenly. "What's wrong, Jack?" his mom asked. "The box is gone," he said. "What box?" Mom asked. "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said. It was gone. 

Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom." 

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. 

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. 

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside. "Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. 

His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser." "The thing he valued most...was...my time." 

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my son," he said. 

"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!" 

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ATTITUDE [return to top]

Michael is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say.

When someone would ask him how he was doing, would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"

He was a natural motivator.

If an employee was having a bad day, Michael was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Michael and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?"

Michael replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or ... you can choose to be in a bad mood.

I choose to be in a good mood.

Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or...I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. 

Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or... I can point out the positive side of life.  I choose the positive side of life.

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Michael said.

"Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people affect your mood.  You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood.  The bottom line: It's your choice how you live your life."

I reflected on what Michael said.

Soon thereafter, I left the Tower Industry to start my own business. Michael and I lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.

Several years later, I heard that Michael was involved in a serious accident, falling some 60 feet  from a communications tower.

After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Michael was released from the hospital with rods placed in his back.

I saw Michael about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied. "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?"

I declined to see his wounds, but I did ask him what had gone through his mind as the accident took place.

"The first thing that went through my mind was the well-being of my soon to be born daughter," Michael replied. "Then, as I lay on the ground, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or... I could choose to die. I chose to live."

"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked.

Michael continued, "...the paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read "he's a dead man. I knew I needed to take action."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Michael. "She asked if I was allergic to anything.

"Yes, I replied." The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, "Gravity."

Over their laughter, I told them, "I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead."

Michael lived, thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully.

"Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer."  (Romans 12:12)

A BEAUTIFUL PRAYER  [return to top]

I asked God to take away my habit. God said, No.
It is not for me to take away, but for you to give up.

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.
God said, No.
His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary

I asked God to grant me patience.
God said, No.
Patience is a by product of tribulations;
it isn't granted, it is learned.

I asked God to give me happiness.
God said, No.
I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.

I asked God to spare me pain.
God said, No.
Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares
And brings you closer to me.

I asked God to make my spirit grow.
God said, No.
You must grow on your own!
But I will prune you to make you fruitful.

I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.
God said, No.
I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.

I ask God to help me LOVE others,
As much as He loves me.
God said...Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.

To the world you might be one person,
but to one person you just might be the world
____________________________________

THE SHOES [return to top]

My alarm went off ~
It was Sunday again.
I was sleepy and tired,
My one day to sleep in.

But the guilt I would feel
The rest of the day
Would have been too much,

So I'd go and I'd pray.
I showered and shaved,
I adjusted my tie,
I got there and sat
In a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer
As I closed my eyes,
I saw the shoe of the man next to me
Touching my own. I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side, I thought,
"Why must our soles touch?"

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine,
But it didn't bother him much.

A prayer began: "Our Father."

I thought, "This man with the shoes has no pride.

They're dusty, worn, and scratched -
Even worse, there are holes on the side!"

"Thank you for blessings," the prayer went on.

The shoe man said a quiet "Amen."

I tried to focus on the prayer,
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best
When walking through that door?

"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought,
Glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer was ended
And the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud,
Sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters,
His hands were raised high,
The Lord could surely hear
The shoe mans voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering,
And what I threw in was steep.

I watched as the shoe man reached
Into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out,
What the shoe man put in,
Then I heard a soft "clink"
as when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me
To tears, and that's no lie
It was the same for the shoe man,
For tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service,
As is the custom here,
We must greet new visitors
And show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow
And wanted to meet the shoe man
So after the closing prayer,
I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark,
And his hair was truly a mess,
But I thanked him for coming,
For being our guest.

He said, "My names' Charlie,
I'm glad to meet you, my friend."

There were tears in his eyes
But he had a large, wide grin
"Let me explain," he said
Wiping tears from his eyes.

"I've been coming here for months,
And you're the first to say 'Hi.'"

"I know that my appearance
Is not like all the rest,
But I really do try
"To always look my best."

"I always clean and polish my shoes
Before my very long walk
But by the time I get here,
They're dirty and dusty, like chalk."

My heart filled with pain and
I swallowed my tears
As he continued to apologize
For daring to sit so near.

He said, "When I get here,
I know I must look a sight.

But I thought if I could touch you,
Then maybe our souls might unite."

I was silent for a moment
Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison.

I spoke from my heart, not my head
"Oh, you've touched me," I said,
"and taught me, in part,
That the best of any man
Is what is found in his heart."

The rest, I thought,
This shoe man will never know.

Like just how thankful I really am
That his dirty old shoe touched my soul.
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THE BRICK [return to top]

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars, and slowed down when he thought he saw something.

As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?"

The young boy was apologetic. "Please, mister...please, I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do," he pleaded. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."

With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me." Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out his fancy handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay.

"Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home. It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message ~ "Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!"

God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts.

Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us.

It's our choice.
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ATTITUDE [return to top]

The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.

After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby
of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready.

As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. "I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been
presented with a new puppy.

"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room .... just wait." "That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind.

I already decided to love it ... "It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for this time in my life.

Old age is like a bank account ... you withdraw from what you've put in .. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories

Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.
____________________________________

IF YOU LOVE GOD [return to top]

This is a statement that was read over the PA system at the football game at Roane County High School, Kingston, Tennessee, by school Principal, Jody McLoud, on September 1, 2000. It shows clearly just how far this country has gone in the wrong direction.


"It has always been the custom at Roane County High School football games, to say a prayer and play the National Anthem, to honor God and Country.

Due to a recent ruling by the Supreme Court, I am told that saying a Prayer is a violation of Federal Case Law. As I understand the law at this time, I can use this public facility to approve of sexual perversion and call it, "an alternate lifestyle," and if someone is offended, that's OK.

I can use it to condone sexual promiscuity, by dispensing condoms and calling it, "safe sex." If someone is offended, that's OK.

I can even use this public facility, to present the merits of killing an unborn baby, as a "viable means of birth control." If someone is offended, no problem.

I can designate a school day as, "Earth Day" and involve students in activities to worship religiously and praise the goddess, "Mother Earth," and call it "ecology."

I can use literature, videos and presentations in the classroom that depict people with strong, traditional Christian convictions as, "simple minded" and "ignorant" and call it, "enlightenment."

However, if anyone uses this facility to honor God, and to ask Him to bless this event with safety and good sportsmanship, then Federal Case Law is violated.

This appears to be inconsistent at best, and at worst, diabolical. Apparently, we are to be tolerant of everything and anyone, except God and His Commandments.

Nevertheless, as a school principal, I frequently ask staff and students to abide by rules with which they do not necessarily agree. For me to do otherwise would be inconsistent at best, and at worst, hypocritical. I suffer from that affliction enough unintentionally. I certainly do not need to add an intentional transgression.

For this reason, I shall "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's," and refrain from praying at this time.

However, if you feel inspired to honor, praise and thank God, and ask Him, in the name of Jesus, to bless this event, please feel free to do so. As far as I know, that's not against the law----yet."

One by one, the people in the stands bowed their heads, held hands with one another, and began to pray.

They prayed in the stands. They prayed in the team huddles. They prayed at the concession stand, and they prayed in the announcer's box.

The only place they didn't pray was in the Supreme Court of the United States of America - the seat of "justice" in the "one nation, under God."

Somehow, Kingston, Tennessee remembered what so many have forgotten...We are given the Freedom OF Religion, not the Freedom FROM Religion. Praise God His remnant remains!

SOME THINGS YOU KEEP [return to top]

Some things you keep. Like good teeth. Warm coats. Bald husbands.

They're good for you, reliable and practical and so sublime that to throw them away would make the garbage man a thief. So you hang on, because something old is sometimes better than something new, and what you know is often better than a stranger.

These are my thoughts, they make me sound old, old and tame, and dull at a time when everybody else is risky and racy and flashing all that's new and improved in their lives. New careers, new thighs, new lips, new cars. The world is dizzy with trade-ins. I could keep track, but I don't think I want to.

I grew up in the fifties with practical parents - a mother, God bless her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it - and still does. A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. They weren't poor, my parents, they were just
satisfied.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers and tee shirt and Mom in a housedress, lawnmower in one's hand, dishtowel in the other's.

It was a time for fixing things - a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things you keep. It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there'd always be more.

But then my father died, and on that clear autumn night, in the chill of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any 'more.' Sometimes what you care about most gets all used up and goes away, never to return.

So, while you have it, it's best to love it and care for it and fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. That's true for marriage and old cars and children with bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging parents. You keep them because they're worth it, because you're worth it.

Some things you keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate you grew up with, there's just some things that make life important.... people you know are special....and you KEEP them close!
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TAKE THE TIME [return to top]

She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The Kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout.

We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall, so I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in.

"Mom, let's run through the rain," she said.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Let's run through the rain!" She repeated.
"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied.

This young child waited about another minute and repeated:

"Mom, let's run through the rain."
"We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said.
"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this
morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.

"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?"

"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, "If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!"

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.
Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will
bloom into faith.

"Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said. Then off they ran.

We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.

And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet.

I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your faith or precious memories.

Make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday.

To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

I hope you still take the time to run through the rain!

____________________________________

THINGS I'VE LEARNED [return to top]

I've learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing "Silent Night".
Age 6

I've learned that our dog doesn't want to eat my broccoli either.
Age 7

I've learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back.
Age 9

I've learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again.
Age 12

I've learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.
Age 14

I've learned that although it's hard to admit it, I'm secretly glad my parents are strict with me.
Age 15

I've learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.
Age 21

I've learned that brushing my child's hair is one of life's great pleasures.
Age 26

I've learned that wherever I go, the world's worst drivers have followed me there.
Age 29

I've learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.
Age 39

I've learned that there are people who love you dearly but just don't know how to show it.
Age 42

I've learned that you can make some one's day by simply sending them a little note.
Age 44

I've learned that the greater a person's sense of guilt, the greater his or her need to cast blame on others.
Age 46

I've learned that children and grandparents are natural allies.
Age 47

I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
Age 48

I've learned that singing "Amazing Grace" can lift my spirits for hours.
Age 49

I've learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone.
Age 50

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
Age 52

I've learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth a medicine cabinet full of pills.
Age 52

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.
Age 53

I've learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.
Age 58

I've learned that if you want to do something positive for your children, work to improve your marriage.
Age 61

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
Age 62

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catchers mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.
Age 64

I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
Age 65

I've learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision.
Age 66

I've learned that everyone can use a prayer.
Age 72

I've learned that it pays to believe in miracles. And to tell the truth, I've seen several.
Age 75

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.
Age 82

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.
Age 85

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.
Age 92

____________________________________________

THE ROSE [return to top]

The first day of class our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?" I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" And she gave me a giant squeeze. "Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked. She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."

"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age. "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Everyday for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped all of her 3 x 5 note cards. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order, so let me just tell you what I know."

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!

There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change.

Have no regrets. The elderly rarely have regrets for the things we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."

She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose". She challenged each of us to study the lyrics. At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.

One week after graduation, Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL Tonight, before you go to bed, give your problems to God. He will be up all night anyway.
_______________________________________________________

STORY TO LIVE BY [return to top]

by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)
-Original Author Unknown-

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."

He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me,

"Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."

I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special. I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.

I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with God, my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever
possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.

I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My
theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'.

"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't
be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to
think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing, I'll never know.

It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good Friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written
certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.

I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.

Take a few minutes to send a note to a few people you care about, just to let them know that you're thinking of them. It's even better if they're not the people you already correspond with every week. The more people that you contact, the better opportunity you will have at reaching out to those you care about.

May God litter your life with blessings!

"You've got to dance like nobody's watching, and love like it's never going to hurt."

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