Thanks

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Frances Vitulla" <[email protected]>
To: <[email protected]>
Sent: Wednesday, September 30, 2009 1:49 PM
Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: TIME


>
> Hello Steve, thanks for sending this message.  I will put it in my
> friendship folder.  Thank you for the time you take to moderate and run
> this list.
> Original message:
>> please take time to read this only a minute
>> IN GOD WE TRUST
>> To all my family & friends I want to
>> THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.
>> ONCE YOU READ THIS, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND!
>> 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!"
>> "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments
>> that take our breath away,"
>> Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.
>> To everyone I sent this to " Thanks for your time".
>
>
>>
> -- 
> Email services provided by the System Access Mobile Network.  Visit
> www.serotek.com to learn more about accessibility anywhere.
>
> > 


--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~
Access the Recipes And More list archives at:

http://www.mail-archive.com/recipesandmore%40googlegroups.com/

Visit the group home page at:

http://groups.google.com/group/RecipesAndMore
-~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---

Reply via email to