Showing posts with label story of helping others. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story of helping others. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Tale of Kindness and Thanksgiving: A Rich Man and a Poor Man



A Tale of Kindness and Thanksgiving: A Rich Man and a Poor Man

There once was a very rich man. He was so rich, he could have owned many cars, but instead he chose to drive a Ford. He was so rich, he could have owned many computers, but instead he chose an Apple Macintosh. He was so rich, he could have owned many homes---even some in Beverly Hills---but instead he chose to live in East LA.

Because this man was rich, many people in his neighborhood knew him. And also because the man was rich, many people from outside of his neighborhood knew him too. Often, his doorbell would ring, and there on his threshold would stand someone who had come to ask for a donation.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a neighbor who had fallen into misfortune. The man would smile, embrace his neighbor, and place a generous sum into their hand.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a charity representing the starving children of Tijuana. The man would again smile, embrace the charity worker, and write a generous check.

Sometimes when the bell rang, it was a Jehovah's Witness. Were he like many of us, the man's first instinct would have been to promptly kick them in the butt and shove them back out onto the street. But instead, he once more smiled and embraced the Jehovah's Witness as any other guest upon his threshold.

One evening, when his doorbell was particularly quiet, this man decided to take a stroll. He headed off, idling along wherever the road wound; amongst the quaint homes of his neighborhood, past the threadbare trees lining the park, along walls painted with an array of colorful graffiti tags (remember, this was East LA).

Every once in a while, a car passed, thumping out the latest rage in rap hit, and he soon found himself whistling one of these catchy tunes to himself.

Lost in the tune, he came suddenly upon a homeless bum lying in the midst of the sidewalk. The bum wore a tattered sweater and ripped pants. He had shoes, but they didn't even match. And oh! The smell! I can't even describe that to you here because it would ruin your Thanksgiving dinner.
Well, this unfortunate soul lying on the street saw the man and knew him. Certainly, the bum said to himself. This is the rich man who lives on the lane. Surely he can help me, for he has money at his disposal. But instead of reaching out his hand, the bum was overcome by a sudden bout of shame and hid his face.

The man stood over this tattered figure. He reached down and touched the bum's cheek, but the bum shrank away from him even further. The man's eyes clouded slightly and he cracked a weak smile. Forgetting the tune he once whistled, the man slowly turned and walked back to his home.
Upon hearing the man retreat beyond the corner, the bum opened his eyes and sat up. There at his feet lay a crisp $100.00 dollar bill.

The bum grabbed the money and made a beeline for the nearest 7/11. Like all bums, this one's first thought was to go blow the money on vodka. What a bum!

But, before he entered the store, he remembered the compassion of the man's touch. This inspired him, and the bum decided then and there to turn his life around. The bum promptly bummed two dimes off an old lady (pay phones don't take hundreds). "Well." the lady replied. "You ain't gonna spend this on alcohol?" The bum shook his head and stuck the money into the slot of the nearest telephone.

His broker answered and the bum said, "Hundred dollars. Invest it all in that company with the nerdy looking CEO. Microsoft!"

Since this was, as it turns out, the late-1980s, it took only a short while before the stock skyrocketed. Yes, good can come of evil after all---especially when you're working the stock market---and the bum found himself very well off indeed.

Back in East LA the years passed slowly. The generous man kept to life much as usual---taking evening strolls, whistling rap tunes, answering his door.

One day in particular, his doorbell rang, and there stood a finely dressed gentleman in a three piece suit. Uh oh, the man thought. Jehovah's Witness. But before he could do anything, his guest spoke.

"You're the rich man, aren't you?" his guest asked.

"What can I do for you?" the man responded automatically, so accustomed to being asked for things.

"It is not what you can do for me," answered his guest. "But what you have already done."

"What have I done for you?" the man asked in surprise.

"You've given me a second chance at life. Why, with your generous gift, I was able to invest the money and pull myself out of my poverty. I no longer wallow in the grime and gutters, but I walk along crowded sidewalks with my head held high. I have you to thank for that."

Suddenly, the man recognized his guest. It was the old bum who'd been lying in the street. The man replied, "What I gave you, you did not ask for. I gave it simply because I saw you there and loved you. I would have given it to anyone in your position."

"All the more reason to come and thank you," his guest said.

"But I am rich," replied the man. "I have many gifts to give. I don't expect anything in return."
"Good," his guest said with a nod. "Because I don't have anything to offer in return---whatever I have, you gave to me. All I wanted to do was come and thank you."

The man stared as his guest reached out and took him into an embrace. It was the same gesture the man had so often offered to those at his door, yet this was the first time someone had offered it back.
Tears filled the man's eyes as his guest, a lowly bum off the street, held him in the most satisfying embrace he had ever received.

What have you done for other people? What about the people you don’t know? Strangers in need? You never know when you can affect someone’s life in a positive way. Some of us have probably already done something nice to others and the recipients have grown because of it but we may never know...but that should never stop us…to be thoughtful and kind to others. Who will you go out of your way to help today?
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Author: M. Stanley Bubien
Photo Credit: ayshfi.wordpress.com
Source: StoryBytes.com
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Note: In addition to writing my own blogs or stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring, motivating, or encouraging material from around the Web and other people. If you see an article, story, or photo that you have written or created and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I try to give credit to the people and/or web sites where I find my information when I can.

Monday, February 4, 2013

A Child’s Beautiful Heart



This story was written by a wonderful mother to honor the memory of her beautiful Billy, who was taken from her much too soon.... But not before showing her the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.

A Child’s Beautiful Heart
It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through.

Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...we would lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes.

I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods.

This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods, run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand. When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree.

I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands! When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting..." was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence...that miracles don't really exist…that it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like that actions of one little boy saved another.
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Author: Sabrina, Georgia
Source: tripod.com
Photo Credit: Gareth W. Evans, Flickr.com
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Note: In addition to writing my own blogs or stories, I also like to search for stories and other inspiring, motivating, or encouraging material from around the Web and other people. If you see an article, story, or photo that you have written or created and want it removed, please feel free to let me know. I try to give credit to the people and/or web sites where I find my information when I can.