I do the very best I know how - the very best I can;
and mean to keep doing so until the end.
If the end brings me out all right,
what is said against me won't amount to anything.
Posted by
Ice
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
interesting story hopefully can help and i feel its very real in this world
FAITH AND LOSS
By Kristie Phillips
I lost my innocence on April 25, 2006, two days after my 34th birthday.
I woke up that morning with hope and more faith than I had ever had in my life. With a quiet confidence that I had prayed with my whole heart and God had heard me, and He would help my family and me in our time of need. But what did God actually do? Nothing. My Mom died that morning. She was 60 years old. I went to bed that night numb with shock, but with my eyes wide open.
Mom’s loss was sudden, complications from a surgery that had seemed to go well. She was released from the hospital four days after the surgery and was recovering on schedule. Then she started having pain, and before anyone, my dad, the surgeon, or even she herself realized how bad her condition was, she collapsed and never woke up again.
The surgeon told us he didn't know what happened. Usually if a patient has pain or complications, there is time to diagnose the problem and treat it, but my mom deteriorated so fast, there was no time. We finally concluded that God just took her. There was no other explanation.
The day I lost my Mom, I lost my faith as well. I never thought I would have an easy life with no problems, but I had firmly believed my entire life that God would hear my prayers and answer them. Growing up I heard so many stories about God miraculously making illnesses disappear, healing people against all odds, and answering impossible prayers, that I couldn't understand why He wouldn't do that for my family. I was terribly disappointed and angry with God. I refused to pray any more at all.
I never told anybody how much I hated God. I was afraid my Christian friends would argue with me and quote scriptures about how all things work together for good and how God will never fail us nor forsake us, and that's not what I needed to hear since I felt that God had failed me.
A few weeks before Mom's death, in early April before we even knew about her surgery, I had noticed an 8-week continuing education class on Grief and Loss, offered by the local community college. It was a new class and stood out among the computer, hobby, and self-improvement offerings. Although I felt drawn to the class, I did not register because I felt strange going when I had not experienced a loss myself. Little did I know that a few weeks later I would have plenty of experience.
I returned to work a week after Mom's funeral and signed up for the Grief and Loss class, still unsure of whether I should go. Somehow I showed up. I had nothing else to do. And in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if this was God providing for me after all. The instructor, Nancy Murphy, was patient's advocate who worked with the elderly in nursing homes and who had a desire to help people understand death and grief. She had lost two of her brothers as children, a third brother when she was sixteen, and her father a year-and-a-half before.
The three other students in the class included a large black man who had recently become a pastor; his wife, who had lost her grandmother, her mother, and her sister all to breast cancer; and a small 20-something former heroin addict, whose teenage sister had committed suicide when she was thirteen. They were not the kind of people I would normally associate with, but they understood the loss I was going through and I found the class to be very comforting.
Nancy was so kind to me and stayed late after every class to talk to me and see how I was doing. We would stand in the parking lot for half an hour after class talking. Nancy told me the class might be too early for me, too soon after my loss. Many adult children who lose their parents don't fully feel the impact of the loss for months, and they tend to join support groups months later instead of right away.
But, I think the class was exactly what I needed at the time. The class gave me direction, gave me people who understood what I was going through, and led me to some books to read that gave me a greater understanding of grief. Without the class, I would have been lost and unprepared to deal with what I was feeling.
The funny part is that a continuing education class would normally be canceled if it had less than six students. This had happened to me several times in the past. But somehow, this Grief and Loss class was allowed to run with just four students. I think it was because Nancy was so enthusiastic to teach it that the coordinator at the community college made an exception.
A year later, in August 2007, I saw Nancy Murphy again in a restaurant at lunchtime. She was as sweet and kind as she had been the year before. She told me that she had not taught the class again; she had gotten busy with work and in the future would try to target the class to healthcare workers. I tried to explain to her that the class was perfect timing for me and exactly what I needed. She said the class helped her as much as it had helped us.
How can you tell the difference between coincidence and God providing for you? I like to think that God provided that Grief and Loss class just for me. I would have been very apprehensive about going to a grief support group and probably would never have gotten the help I needed. But classes I'm not afraid of. I have a Ph.D. I've gone to lots of classes.Nancy Murphy said that she has to believe there is a purpose in loss. She has to. That's the only way she can make sense of it and have some peace. And I think she's right.
My faith is coming back slowly, little by little, but I know it will never be the same. I will never believe like I once did. I will never be as faithful, innocent, and naive as I was before. I will always remember how God disappointed me.I can only hope that God has a plan and a purpose for my life after all and my mom's death was a part of it. And when I doubt, I think about Nancy Murphy, her kindness, and her Grief and Loss class that only ran at the exact time I really needed it, and I wonder.
By Kristie Phillips
I lost my innocence on April 25, 2006, two days after my 34th birthday.
I woke up that morning with hope and more faith than I had ever had in my life. With a quiet confidence that I had prayed with my whole heart and God had heard me, and He would help my family and me in our time of need. But what did God actually do? Nothing. My Mom died that morning. She was 60 years old. I went to bed that night numb with shock, but with my eyes wide open.
Mom’s loss was sudden, complications from a surgery that had seemed to go well. She was released from the hospital four days after the surgery and was recovering on schedule. Then she started having pain, and before anyone, my dad, the surgeon, or even she herself realized how bad her condition was, she collapsed and never woke up again.
The surgeon told us he didn't know what happened. Usually if a patient has pain or complications, there is time to diagnose the problem and treat it, but my mom deteriorated so fast, there was no time. We finally concluded that God just took her. There was no other explanation.
The day I lost my Mom, I lost my faith as well. I never thought I would have an easy life with no problems, but I had firmly believed my entire life that God would hear my prayers and answer them. Growing up I heard so many stories about God miraculously making illnesses disappear, healing people against all odds, and answering impossible prayers, that I couldn't understand why He wouldn't do that for my family. I was terribly disappointed and angry with God. I refused to pray any more at all.
I never told anybody how much I hated God. I was afraid my Christian friends would argue with me and quote scriptures about how all things work together for good and how God will never fail us nor forsake us, and that's not what I needed to hear since I felt that God had failed me.
A few weeks before Mom's death, in early April before we even knew about her surgery, I had noticed an 8-week continuing education class on Grief and Loss, offered by the local community college. It was a new class and stood out among the computer, hobby, and self-improvement offerings. Although I felt drawn to the class, I did not register because I felt strange going when I had not experienced a loss myself. Little did I know that a few weeks later I would have plenty of experience.
I returned to work a week after Mom's funeral and signed up for the Grief and Loss class, still unsure of whether I should go. Somehow I showed up. I had nothing else to do. And in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if this was God providing for me after all. The instructor, Nancy Murphy, was patient's advocate who worked with the elderly in nursing homes and who had a desire to help people understand death and grief. She had lost two of her brothers as children, a third brother when she was sixteen, and her father a year-and-a-half before.
The three other students in the class included a large black man who had recently become a pastor; his wife, who had lost her grandmother, her mother, and her sister all to breast cancer; and a small 20-something former heroin addict, whose teenage sister had committed suicide when she was thirteen. They were not the kind of people I would normally associate with, but they understood the loss I was going through and I found the class to be very comforting.
Nancy was so kind to me and stayed late after every class to talk to me and see how I was doing. We would stand in the parking lot for half an hour after class talking. Nancy told me the class might be too early for me, too soon after my loss. Many adult children who lose their parents don't fully feel the impact of the loss for months, and they tend to join support groups months later instead of right away.
But, I think the class was exactly what I needed at the time. The class gave me direction, gave me people who understood what I was going through, and led me to some books to read that gave me a greater understanding of grief. Without the class, I would have been lost and unprepared to deal with what I was feeling.
The funny part is that a continuing education class would normally be canceled if it had less than six students. This had happened to me several times in the past. But somehow, this Grief and Loss class was allowed to run with just four students. I think it was because Nancy was so enthusiastic to teach it that the coordinator at the community college made an exception.
A year later, in August 2007, I saw Nancy Murphy again in a restaurant at lunchtime. She was as sweet and kind as she had been the year before. She told me that she had not taught the class again; she had gotten busy with work and in the future would try to target the class to healthcare workers. I tried to explain to her that the class was perfect timing for me and exactly what I needed. She said the class helped her as much as it had helped us.
How can you tell the difference between coincidence and God providing for you? I like to think that God provided that Grief and Loss class just for me. I would have been very apprehensive about going to a grief support group and probably would never have gotten the help I needed. But classes I'm not afraid of. I have a Ph.D. I've gone to lots of classes.Nancy Murphy said that she has to believe there is a purpose in loss. She has to. That's the only way she can make sense of it and have some peace. And I think she's right.
My faith is coming back slowly, little by little, but I know it will never be the same. I will never believe like I once did. I will never be as faithful, innocent, and naive as I was before. I will always remember how God disappointed me.I can only hope that God has a plan and a purpose for my life after all and my mom's death was a part of it. And when I doubt, I think about Nancy Murphy, her kindness, and her Grief and Loss class that only ran at the exact time I really needed it, and I wonder.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
This is beautiful! Try not to cry.
> > When you're down to nothing, God is up to something.
This is beautiful! Try not to cry.
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room.
She said:'How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?'
The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it.'
Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?'
The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university.'
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.
'Would you like a lock of his hair ?' the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.
The mother said, 'It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study.
He said it might help somebody else. '
I said no at first,
but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.'
She went on, 'My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.'
Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.
The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.
She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.
It was around midnight when Sally awoke.
Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter.
The letter said: 'Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything.
But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own ersonal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you.
God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you a sked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children. Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool ? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.
(Let's see Satan stop this one.) Take 60 seconds and repost this, within the hour, you will have caused a multitude of believers to pray to God for each other. Then sit back and feel the Holy Spirit work in your life for doing what you know God loves 'When you're down to nothing, God is up to something.'
This is beautiful! Try not to cry.
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room.
She said:'How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?'
The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it.'
Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?'
The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university.'
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.
'Would you like a lock of his hair ?' the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.
The mother said, 'It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study.
He said it might help somebody else. '
I said no at first,
but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.'
She went on, 'My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.'
Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.
The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.
She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.
It was around midnight when Sally awoke.
Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter.
The letter said: 'Dear Mom, I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything.
But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own ersonal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you.
God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you a sked Him 'Where was He when I needed him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children. Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool ? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.
(Let's see Satan stop this one.) Take 60 seconds and repost this, within the hour, you will have caused a multitude of believers to pray to God for each other. Then sit back and feel the Holy Spirit work in your life for doing what you know God loves 'When you're down to nothing, God is up to something.'
Monday, August 11, 2008
Muhaha invisiblity will be possible Command and conquer will soon start!!
WASHINGTON - Scientists say they are a step closer to developing materials that could render people and objects invisible.
Researchers have demonstrated for the first time they were able to cloak three-dimensional objects using artificially engineered materials that redirect light around the objects. Previously, they only have been able to cloak very thin two-dimensional objects.
The findings, by scientists at the University of California, Berkeley, led by Xiang Zhang, are to be released later this week in the journals Nature and Science.
The new work moves scientists a step closer to hiding people and objects from visible light, which could have broad applications, including military ones.
People can see objects because they scatter the light that strikes them, reflecting some of it back to the eye. Cloaking uses materials, known as metamaterials, to deflect radar, light or other waves around an object, like water flowing around a smooth rock in a stream.
Metamaterials are mixtures of metal and circuit board materials such as ceramic, Teflon or fiber composite. They are designed to bend visible light in a way that ordinary materials don't. Scientists are trying to use them to bend light around objects so they don't create reflections or shadows.
It differs from stealth technology, which does not make an aircraft invisible but reduces the cross-section available to radar, making it hard to track.
The research was funded in part by the U.S. Army Research Office and the National Science Foundation's Nano-Scale Science and Engineering Center.
Researchers have demonstrated for the first time they were able to cloak three-dimensional objects using artificially engineered materials that redirect light around the objects. Previously, they only have been able to cloak very thin two-dimensional objects.
The findings, by scientists at the University of California, Berkeley, led by Xiang Zhang, are to be released later this week in the journals Nature and Science.
The new work moves scientists a step closer to hiding people and objects from visible light, which could have broad applications, including military ones.
People can see objects because they scatter the light that strikes them, reflecting some of it back to the eye. Cloaking uses materials, known as metamaterials, to deflect radar, light or other waves around an object, like water flowing around a smooth rock in a stream.
Metamaterials are mixtures of metal and circuit board materials such as ceramic, Teflon or fiber composite. They are designed to bend visible light in a way that ordinary materials don't. Scientists are trying to use them to bend light around objects so they don't create reflections or shadows.
It differs from stealth technology, which does not make an aircraft invisible but reduces the cross-section available to radar, making it hard to track.
The research was funded in part by the U.S. Army Research Office and the National Science Foundation's Nano-Scale Science and Engineering Center.
take it all
Searching the world
The lost will be found
In freedom we live
As one we cry out
You carried the cross
You died and rose again
My God I’ll only ever give my all
You sent Your Son From heaven to earth
You delivered us all It’s eternally heard
I searched for truth And all I found was You
My God I’ll only ever give my all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
You sent Your Son From heaven to earth
You delivered us all It’s eternally heard
I searched for truth And all I found was You
My God I’ll only ever give my all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all Take take take it all
Running to the One Who heals the blind
Following the shining light
In Your hands The power to save the world In my life
Running to the One Who heals the blind
Following the shining light
In Your hands The power to save the world In my life
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
The lost will be found
In freedom we live
As one we cry out
You carried the cross
You died and rose again
My God I’ll only ever give my all
You sent Your Son From heaven to earth
You delivered us all It’s eternally heard
I searched for truth And all I found was You
My God I’ll only ever give my all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
You sent Your Son From heaven to earth
You delivered us all It’s eternally heard
I searched for truth And all I found was You
My God I’ll only ever give my all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all Take take take it all
Running to the One Who heals the blind
Following the shining light
In Your hands The power to save the world In my life
Running to the One Who heals the blind
Following the shining light
In Your hands The power to save the world In my life
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Jesus we’re living for Your Name
We’ll never be ashamed of You (Whoa o oh)
Our praise and all we are today
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
Take take take it all
touching story of how each of us should live our lives
My Friend Barry
By Linda Hastings
© September 2007
I first met Barry in the mid-80's while working as the secretary for the President of a limousine company in the town where I grew up, a suburb of Dallas. My boss, Charles was the newly appointed President of the National Limousine Association based in Washington, DC. Barry, a man nearly twice my age and also serving on the board lived near the Associations' headquarters and would routinely call to discuss issues with my boss. When Barry would call he would exuberantly say "Good morning!!!" and you could tell from his voice and tone that it really was!
Being a young mother of two small daughters, often it was well up into the day before my morning felt "good" to me. Usually fatigued from the daily routine of getting dinner the night before, baths, making lunches, helping with homework, and then getting up early to rush the girls off to school and drive the 20+ miles to work in traffic, I would be doing well to muster up a smile, much less any enthusiasm, yet Barry's calls would always rejuvenate me.
As time went on, I found myself anxiously awaiting his phone calls. He would always ask about my family and before long he knew as much about my family as my closest friends. He would be genuine in his interest to hear how the girls were doing as well as my husband, Bill.
His laughter was contagious and his zest for life always made me glad he called. Barry spoke of his family too, a wife of many years, children and his most recent family addition, a grandson. You could tell from our conversations that he not only loved life, but also his family. In the spring of '88 his work with the Association would bring him to Dallas. When he called to tell me the news that he would, at last, get to meet me in person, I was ecstatic! I had long wondered what he looked like and wanted to see for myself if that enthusiasm on the phone was indeed something that was the 'real deal'.
Barry arrived some weeks later and chose to stay over on Saturday to see some of the Dallas area. He had asked if Bill, the girls and I were up for showing him around and I jumped at the opportunity, saying "yes" without first checking with the family.
As it turned out, there was a softball tournament that Saturday and Bill, being an assistant coach, could not get out of attending it. Feeling bad that I had already accepted the invitation to show him the city, I begged off from sitting in the stands for hours watching teams of children play softball (none of which included my own) and said nothing to Barry of the change in plans.
On that Saturday we were to meet at his hotel for brunch. His treat! When I arrived alone he was hugely disappointed that the girls and Bill were not with me. I explained the circumstances and he asked if we could include a trip to the ball fields as part of our excursion that day and I agreed. Little did I know that the events of that day would change me forever!
Barry was a gentleman in every sense of the word and his attitude and humor kept me entertained throughout the entire day - one surprise after another. However, it was the way he treated others that would remain with me and alter my ways of thinking for a lifetime.
It started first with the waitress at brunch. He made sure he knew her name and called her by it throughout the morning meal, but it didn't stop there. He complimented her on the tiniest of tasks and genuinely showed an interest in every part of her job. When she warmed up to us, his humor kicked in. When she asked if we were from out of town, he remarked that he had flown in because we were getting married that afternoon! He continued by asking her if she didn't agree that I was the most beautiful woman in the world and wouldn't I make a lovely bride for him.
Obviously, the waitress didn't know what to say seeing that we were years apart in age, so she smiled and agreed with him. He went on with his charade as I sat smiling and listening to his ridiculous story. All the while he made it remarkably believable. When she walked away, I laughed and told him how crazy he was and he laughed just as hard as I.
Throughout our meal our waitress would provide the best of service, coming to check on us regularly and offering anything that she could possibly bring us. It was obvious that she couldn't get enough of Barry and his outlandish story and every time she appeared at the table, he added to it even going so far as to invite her to the 'wedding' that afternoon.
It was hard to contain myself as I wondered what he would do if she accepted. I could tell from that first experience I was in for a day full of surprises and Barry didn't disappoint me. After walking out into the lobby, still laughing about his charade with the waitress, we encountered the hotel custodian, an elderly black man with graying hair and a demeanor so low I sensed immediately that he wanted to be invisible. As he polished and cleaned the lobby tables and doors we stood talking about the day's agenda.
Barry wanted to run up to his room and get his sunglasses and I told him I'd wait there in the lobby for him. We were standing near the elevator and the custodian had made his way over to clean out the ashtrays. I remember them being the ones with the sand on the top that, when freshened up, had the hotel's logo pressed into the clean sand.
Barry went into action! He greeted the elderly custodian with the warmest "hello, good morning, sir" that I have ever heard - much like that between two long lost friends at a chance meeting. The custodian smiled and softly returned a shy "hello" back as he continued with the ashtrays. Barry was relentless.
"How are you (waiting for his name) today?" The old man replied "Oh, fine".
"And what is your name, sir?" The old man replied with his first name, Henry.
"Well, Mr. Henry." Barry began. "No, sir, that's my first name, Henry. Me's last name is Turner", was his reply.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Turner", Barry said. Mr. Turner now smiling and standing a little straighter and taller turned to look towards me. I returned the smile, waiting to see what was in store for us both from Barry.
He continued. "Mr. Turner, how long have you worked for the hotel?" he asked.
"Oh, nearly five years now" came his reply.
"And do you take care of this beautiful lobby all by yourself, or do you have help?"
Barry continued to pry. "No sir, I do it all by myself, ain't got no helpers, don't need nobody, I likes doing it real nice by myself" he answered.
Barry then walked towards the ash try he had just finished restoring to perfection. "Mr. Turner, how do you get that logo in the sand like that, I have often wondered how it's done and you're the first person I have ever seen who could actually tell me." Mr. Turner, now standing tall and confident walked over to the next ashtray and proceeded to show Barry the tricks of the trade so to speak. He carried a rubber stamp in his supplies that when pressed into the smoothed out sand made the logo prominent. "Jest like that, sir", was Mr. Turner's reply.
Barry studied the logo in the sand intently and turned to Mr. Turner and remarked, "well, I'll be - that is impressive if I must say so - and that must take practice to get it right in the center and make it stand out like that - yes, a real art I'd say".
Barry had turned his total and complete attention to the aging custodian, showing him a genuine interest in this mundane tasks and Mr. Turner was thriving on the attention he was getting. The elevator arrived and Barry went up. The elderly custodian began to whistle a little tune as he continued his cleaning and when he got to the next ashtray, he stood looking at his work as an artist does upon completing a masterpiece.
Sitting silently in the lobby glancing through a magazine I began to take it all in. I marveled at the changes that had come over Mr. Turner - he walked tall now to the next ash tray, his head held high, a smile on his withered face and he whistled softly - a transformation made in only moments by an act of respect and a few spoken words.
The remainder of the day proved to be more of the same as we visited historical locations, shops and even the ball fields where we found the girls and Bill intently watching the softball tournament. Everywhere we went Barry made the people he encountered feel like they were the owner or president of their company, or could be! His enthusiasm and concentrated interests in whatever they were doing brought smiles and opened conversation everywhere we went.
Later that night, alone with my thoughts, I re-played the video in my mind of Barry making small talk with total strangers standing near us in a line, the waitress, Mr. Turner and even the way he reacted when meeting my family. What a difference he made in the lives of those he would never meet again, whose day was made more special because of a word, a smile, a story.
I closed my eyes and thought to myself, I want to live my life just like Barry - making those I encounter feel important everywhere I go! The following year, the limousine company I worked for declared bankruptcy and closed its doors. I was handed the word processor on my desk as payment for my last two weeks at work.
School was about to end for summer vacation and I decided to take that time to enjoy it with the girls and think of what I would do next. Barry stayed in touch with me, making sure I would be all right in light of my sudden loss of work and an income. I assured him I was fine and that I would bounce back come September when school started back and that I would find other employment.
It was then that Barry began to encourage me to start my own business - he reminded me that I had the knowledge and personality to be successful and now I had an expensive tool by which to get started - the computer. At first it seemed more like the story of us getting married that day - totally ridiculous - but he wouldn't let it go.
As we continued to converse over the summer it became more and more evident that he was right - I could do it! I spent the summer gearing up for my new company, "Secretarial Solutions" and on the first day of school while dropping the girls off I heard a knock on my van window. I rolled down the glass and a gentleman asked for my business card.
Puzzled, I asked, "What business card?" forgetting the signs on the side of our van advertising my new business. He smiled, "Isn't this your van?" "Yes" I replied and then snapped to what he meant and scrambled to find my new business card to hand him. He became my very first customer!
For the remaining 4 years my business grew and I thrived. Barry was there for me each time I needed advice or direction and always for encouragement. Whenever I found an opportunity - which was daily - I put into action what Barry had shown me - and even today it is the standard by which I live.
Sometimes I wonder whatever happened to Barry Locke, and then I smile knowing if he isn't still here on earth making people feel important, he is surely in heaven making up stories to entertain the angels!
By Linda Hastings
© September 2007
I first met Barry in the mid-80's while working as the secretary for the President of a limousine company in the town where I grew up, a suburb of Dallas. My boss, Charles was the newly appointed President of the National Limousine Association based in Washington, DC. Barry, a man nearly twice my age and also serving on the board lived near the Associations' headquarters and would routinely call to discuss issues with my boss. When Barry would call he would exuberantly say "Good morning!!!" and you could tell from his voice and tone that it really was!
Being a young mother of two small daughters, often it was well up into the day before my morning felt "good" to me. Usually fatigued from the daily routine of getting dinner the night before, baths, making lunches, helping with homework, and then getting up early to rush the girls off to school and drive the 20+ miles to work in traffic, I would be doing well to muster up a smile, much less any enthusiasm, yet Barry's calls would always rejuvenate me.
As time went on, I found myself anxiously awaiting his phone calls. He would always ask about my family and before long he knew as much about my family as my closest friends. He would be genuine in his interest to hear how the girls were doing as well as my husband, Bill.
His laughter was contagious and his zest for life always made me glad he called. Barry spoke of his family too, a wife of many years, children and his most recent family addition, a grandson. You could tell from our conversations that he not only loved life, but also his family. In the spring of '88 his work with the Association would bring him to Dallas. When he called to tell me the news that he would, at last, get to meet me in person, I was ecstatic! I had long wondered what he looked like and wanted to see for myself if that enthusiasm on the phone was indeed something that was the 'real deal'.
Barry arrived some weeks later and chose to stay over on Saturday to see some of the Dallas area. He had asked if Bill, the girls and I were up for showing him around and I jumped at the opportunity, saying "yes" without first checking with the family.
As it turned out, there was a softball tournament that Saturday and Bill, being an assistant coach, could not get out of attending it. Feeling bad that I had already accepted the invitation to show him the city, I begged off from sitting in the stands for hours watching teams of children play softball (none of which included my own) and said nothing to Barry of the change in plans.
On that Saturday we were to meet at his hotel for brunch. His treat! When I arrived alone he was hugely disappointed that the girls and Bill were not with me. I explained the circumstances and he asked if we could include a trip to the ball fields as part of our excursion that day and I agreed. Little did I know that the events of that day would change me forever!
Barry was a gentleman in every sense of the word and his attitude and humor kept me entertained throughout the entire day - one surprise after another. However, it was the way he treated others that would remain with me and alter my ways of thinking for a lifetime.
It started first with the waitress at brunch. He made sure he knew her name and called her by it throughout the morning meal, but it didn't stop there. He complimented her on the tiniest of tasks and genuinely showed an interest in every part of her job. When she warmed up to us, his humor kicked in. When she asked if we were from out of town, he remarked that he had flown in because we were getting married that afternoon! He continued by asking her if she didn't agree that I was the most beautiful woman in the world and wouldn't I make a lovely bride for him.
Obviously, the waitress didn't know what to say seeing that we were years apart in age, so she smiled and agreed with him. He went on with his charade as I sat smiling and listening to his ridiculous story. All the while he made it remarkably believable. When she walked away, I laughed and told him how crazy he was and he laughed just as hard as I.
Throughout our meal our waitress would provide the best of service, coming to check on us regularly and offering anything that she could possibly bring us. It was obvious that she couldn't get enough of Barry and his outlandish story and every time she appeared at the table, he added to it even going so far as to invite her to the 'wedding' that afternoon.
It was hard to contain myself as I wondered what he would do if she accepted. I could tell from that first experience I was in for a day full of surprises and Barry didn't disappoint me. After walking out into the lobby, still laughing about his charade with the waitress, we encountered the hotel custodian, an elderly black man with graying hair and a demeanor so low I sensed immediately that he wanted to be invisible. As he polished and cleaned the lobby tables and doors we stood talking about the day's agenda.
Barry wanted to run up to his room and get his sunglasses and I told him I'd wait there in the lobby for him. We were standing near the elevator and the custodian had made his way over to clean out the ashtrays. I remember them being the ones with the sand on the top that, when freshened up, had the hotel's logo pressed into the clean sand.
Barry went into action! He greeted the elderly custodian with the warmest "hello, good morning, sir" that I have ever heard - much like that between two long lost friends at a chance meeting. The custodian smiled and softly returned a shy "hello" back as he continued with the ashtrays. Barry was relentless.
"How are you (waiting for his name) today?" The old man replied "Oh, fine".
"And what is your name, sir?" The old man replied with his first name, Henry.
"Well, Mr. Henry." Barry began. "No, sir, that's my first name, Henry. Me's last name is Turner", was his reply.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Turner", Barry said. Mr. Turner now smiling and standing a little straighter and taller turned to look towards me. I returned the smile, waiting to see what was in store for us both from Barry.
He continued. "Mr. Turner, how long have you worked for the hotel?" he asked.
"Oh, nearly five years now" came his reply.
"And do you take care of this beautiful lobby all by yourself, or do you have help?"
Barry continued to pry. "No sir, I do it all by myself, ain't got no helpers, don't need nobody, I likes doing it real nice by myself" he answered.
Barry then walked towards the ash try he had just finished restoring to perfection. "Mr. Turner, how do you get that logo in the sand like that, I have often wondered how it's done and you're the first person I have ever seen who could actually tell me." Mr. Turner, now standing tall and confident walked over to the next ashtray and proceeded to show Barry the tricks of the trade so to speak. He carried a rubber stamp in his supplies that when pressed into the smoothed out sand made the logo prominent. "Jest like that, sir", was Mr. Turner's reply.
Barry studied the logo in the sand intently and turned to Mr. Turner and remarked, "well, I'll be - that is impressive if I must say so - and that must take practice to get it right in the center and make it stand out like that - yes, a real art I'd say".
Barry had turned his total and complete attention to the aging custodian, showing him a genuine interest in this mundane tasks and Mr. Turner was thriving on the attention he was getting. The elevator arrived and Barry went up. The elderly custodian began to whistle a little tune as he continued his cleaning and when he got to the next ashtray, he stood looking at his work as an artist does upon completing a masterpiece.
Sitting silently in the lobby glancing through a magazine I began to take it all in. I marveled at the changes that had come over Mr. Turner - he walked tall now to the next ash tray, his head held high, a smile on his withered face and he whistled softly - a transformation made in only moments by an act of respect and a few spoken words.
The remainder of the day proved to be more of the same as we visited historical locations, shops and even the ball fields where we found the girls and Bill intently watching the softball tournament. Everywhere we went Barry made the people he encountered feel like they were the owner or president of their company, or could be! His enthusiasm and concentrated interests in whatever they were doing brought smiles and opened conversation everywhere we went.
Later that night, alone with my thoughts, I re-played the video in my mind of Barry making small talk with total strangers standing near us in a line, the waitress, Mr. Turner and even the way he reacted when meeting my family. What a difference he made in the lives of those he would never meet again, whose day was made more special because of a word, a smile, a story.
I closed my eyes and thought to myself, I want to live my life just like Barry - making those I encounter feel important everywhere I go! The following year, the limousine company I worked for declared bankruptcy and closed its doors. I was handed the word processor on my desk as payment for my last two weeks at work.
School was about to end for summer vacation and I decided to take that time to enjoy it with the girls and think of what I would do next. Barry stayed in touch with me, making sure I would be all right in light of my sudden loss of work and an income. I assured him I was fine and that I would bounce back come September when school started back and that I would find other employment.
It was then that Barry began to encourage me to start my own business - he reminded me that I had the knowledge and personality to be successful and now I had an expensive tool by which to get started - the computer. At first it seemed more like the story of us getting married that day - totally ridiculous - but he wouldn't let it go.
As we continued to converse over the summer it became more and more evident that he was right - I could do it! I spent the summer gearing up for my new company, "Secretarial Solutions" and on the first day of school while dropping the girls off I heard a knock on my van window. I rolled down the glass and a gentleman asked for my business card.
Puzzled, I asked, "What business card?" forgetting the signs on the side of our van advertising my new business. He smiled, "Isn't this your van?" "Yes" I replied and then snapped to what he meant and scrambled to find my new business card to hand him. He became my very first customer!
For the remaining 4 years my business grew and I thrived. Barry was there for me each time I needed advice or direction and always for encouragement. Whenever I found an opportunity - which was daily - I put into action what Barry had shown me - and even today it is the standard by which I live.
Sometimes I wonder whatever happened to Barry Locke, and then I smile knowing if he isn't still here on earth making people feel important, he is surely in heaven making up stories to entertain the angels!
Friday, August 1, 2008
Story from AsAManThinketh.net
Are You a Bucket-Filler or a Dipper?
Author Unknown
You have heard of the cup that overflowed. This is a story of a bucket that is like the cup, only larger, it is an invisible bucket. Everyone has one. It determines how we feel about ourselves, about others, and how we get along with people. Have you ever experienced a series of very favorable things which made you want to be good to people for a week? At that time, your bucket was full.
A bucket can be filled by a lot of things that happen. When a person speaks to you, recognizing you as a human being, your bucket is filled a little. Even more if he calls you by name, especially if it is the name you like to be called. If he compliments you on your dress or on a job well done, the level in your bucket goes up still higher. There must be a million ways to raise the level in another's bucket. Writing a friendly letter, remembering something that is special to him, knowing the names of his children, expressing sympathy for his loss, giving him a hand when his work is heavy, taking time for conversation, or, perhaps more important, listing to him.
When one's bucket is full of this emotional support, one can express warmth and friendliness to people. But, remember, this is a theory about a bucket and a dipper. Other people have dippers and they can get their dippers in your bucket. This, too, can be done in a million ways.
Lets say I am at a dinner and inadvertently upset a glass of thick, sticky chocolate milk that spills over the table cloth, on a lady's skirt, down onto the carpet. I am embarrassed. "Bright Eyes" across the table says, "You upset that glass of chocolate milk." I made a mistake, I know I did, and then he told me about it! He got his dipper in my bucket! Think of the times a person makes a mistake, feels terrible about it, only to have someone tell him about the known mistake ("Red pencil" mentality!)
Buckets are filled and buckets are emptied ? emptied many times because people don't really think about what are doing. When a person's bucket is emptied, he is very different than when it is full. You say to a person whose bucket is empty, "That is a pretty tie you have," and he may reply in a very irritated, defensive manner.
Although there is a limit to such an analogy, there are people who seem to have holes in their buckets. When a person has a hole in his bucket, he irritates lots of people by trying to get his dipper in their buckets. This is when he really needs somebody to pour it in his bucket because he keeps losing.
The story of our lives is the interplay of the bucket and the dipper. Everyone has both. The unyielding secret of the bucket and the dipper is that when you fill another's bucket it does not take anything out of your own bucket. The level in our own bucket gets higher when we fill another's, and, on the other hand, when we dip into another's bucket we do not fill our own ... we lose a little.
For a variety of reasons, people hesitate filling the bucket of another and consequently do not experience the fun, joy, happiness, fulfillment, and satisfaction connected with making another person happy. Some reasons for this hesitancy are that people think it sounds "fakey," or the other person will be suspicious of the motive, or it is "brown-nosing."
Therefore, let us put aside our dipper and resolve to touch someone's life in order to fill their bucket.
Author Unknown
You have heard of the cup that overflowed. This is a story of a bucket that is like the cup, only larger, it is an invisible bucket. Everyone has one. It determines how we feel about ourselves, about others, and how we get along with people. Have you ever experienced a series of very favorable things which made you want to be good to people for a week? At that time, your bucket was full.
A bucket can be filled by a lot of things that happen. When a person speaks to you, recognizing you as a human being, your bucket is filled a little. Even more if he calls you by name, especially if it is the name you like to be called. If he compliments you on your dress or on a job well done, the level in your bucket goes up still higher. There must be a million ways to raise the level in another's bucket. Writing a friendly letter, remembering something that is special to him, knowing the names of his children, expressing sympathy for his loss, giving him a hand when his work is heavy, taking time for conversation, or, perhaps more important, listing to him.
When one's bucket is full of this emotional support, one can express warmth and friendliness to people. But, remember, this is a theory about a bucket and a dipper. Other people have dippers and they can get their dippers in your bucket. This, too, can be done in a million ways.
Lets say I am at a dinner and inadvertently upset a glass of thick, sticky chocolate milk that spills over the table cloth, on a lady's skirt, down onto the carpet. I am embarrassed. "Bright Eyes" across the table says, "You upset that glass of chocolate milk." I made a mistake, I know I did, and then he told me about it! He got his dipper in my bucket! Think of the times a person makes a mistake, feels terrible about it, only to have someone tell him about the known mistake ("Red pencil" mentality!)
Buckets are filled and buckets are emptied ? emptied many times because people don't really think about what are doing. When a person's bucket is emptied, he is very different than when it is full. You say to a person whose bucket is empty, "That is a pretty tie you have," and he may reply in a very irritated, defensive manner.
Although there is a limit to such an analogy, there are people who seem to have holes in their buckets. When a person has a hole in his bucket, he irritates lots of people by trying to get his dipper in their buckets. This is when he really needs somebody to pour it in his bucket because he keeps losing.
The story of our lives is the interplay of the bucket and the dipper. Everyone has both. The unyielding secret of the bucket and the dipper is that when you fill another's bucket it does not take anything out of your own bucket. The level in our own bucket gets higher when we fill another's, and, on the other hand, when we dip into another's bucket we do not fill our own ... we lose a little.
For a variety of reasons, people hesitate filling the bucket of another and consequently do not experience the fun, joy, happiness, fulfillment, and satisfaction connected with making another person happy. Some reasons for this hesitancy are that people think it sounds "fakey," or the other person will be suspicious of the motive, or it is "brown-nosing."
Therefore, let us put aside our dipper and resolve to touch someone's life in order to fill their bucket.
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