Feel the heat/ Wednesday, May 18, 2005
i got this from yangming's blog.
i thought was a nice one.. so decided to cut and paste!
YM, sorry stealing ur things.. lol..
The Old Phone:When I was quite young,
my father had one of thefirst telephones in ourneighborhood.
I remember the polished,
old casefastened to the wall.
The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.
I was too little to reachthe telephone,
but used to listen with fascinationwhen my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the
wonderful device lived an amazing person.
Her name was "Information Please"and there was nothing she
did not know. Information Please could supply
anyone's number and the
correct time. My personal experience with the
genie-in-a-bottle came one
day while my mother was visiting a neighbor.
Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I
whacked my finger with a
hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no
point in crying because
there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing
finger, finally arriving at
the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for
the footstool in the
parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up,
I unhooked the receiver
in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information,
please" I said into the
mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the
tears came readily enough
now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I ! replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer
and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to
your finger," said the
voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for
everything.
I asked her for help with my geography, and she told
me where Philadelphia
was. She helped me with my math. She told me my
pet chipmunk that I had
caught in the park just the day before, would eat
fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary,
died. I called, Information
Please," and told her the sad story. She listened,
and then said things
grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not
consoled.
I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so
beautifully and bring joy
to all families, only to end up as a heap of
feathers on the bottom of acage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said
quietly, "Paul, always
remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information
Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice.
"How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific
Northwest.
When I was nine years old, we moved across the
country to Boston. I missed
my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged
in that old wooden box
back home and I somehow never thought of trying the
shiny new phone that sat
on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens,
the memories of those
childhood conversations never really left me.
Often, in moments of doubt
and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of
security I had then. I
appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind
she was to have spent
her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my
plane put down in Seattle.I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I
spent 15 minutes or so on
the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then
without thinking what I
was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said,
"Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew
so well.
"Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying,
"Could you please tell me
how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken
answer, "I guess your
finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder
if you have any idea how
much you meant to me during that time?"
I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call
meant to me. I never
had any children and I used to look forward to your
calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the
years and I asked if I
could call her again when I came back to visit my
sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A
different voice answered,
"Information."
I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said.
"Sally had been working
part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks
ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did
you say your name was Paul?"
"Yes." I answered.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it
down in case you called.
"Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to
sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on
others. Whose life have
you touched today?
Why not pass this on? I just did....
Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joyand peace you long for.
Life is a journey ... NOT a guided tour.
im thinking of you!
11:07 AM <3
>>>
adeline