Some Huge Gifts

It was the kind of summer day that every gear-head looks forward too. The August skies were clear and blue and northern pavement invited me to ride. My mission was to ride my Gold-Wing motorcycle out to a northern Michigan resort and conduct a wedding rehearsal. My plans were to return later that day and officiate the wedding.

My plans for the next year were about to change.

After the rehearsal my bike roared to life and I sped off to enjoy the day. A young girl ran a stop-sign and I T-boned her little Ford at full speed. I hit the door post of the car and flew through the wind-shield of my motorcycle.

As I lay on the road-side, I examined my broken state. I did not know it but I had 18 broken bones, including a compound brake of the right hand, broken pelvis and crushed left leg. Both my lungs and bladder were ruptured. All I knew was that I was panting for air and was certain that this was my last moments on earth.

I prayed a prayer that I thought would be my last spoken words in this life, Dear God take care of my family. Then I waited for death to overtake me.

God had different plans. A volunteer fireman had watched the accident and drove up to my bruised and bleeding body. His skills went into motion. My bleeding was stopped by his gentle hands. He bagged me and I was able to get gulps of life-saving air. He called an emergency helicopter and I was rescued from certain death.

There was intensive care; six surgeries; three and half months in a hospital bed; wheelchairs; physical and occupational therapy; pain, tears and joy. After a year I took my first steps after the accident.

About the time that I started walking, I was in a tire store getting a new set of rubber for my Jeep. At that season in my recovery I still walked with the help of a walker. It was very oblivious to any observer that something very painful had happened to me. There was one other customer in the store and she asked the question that I had heard many times, What happened to you?

I told her that I had parked my ride in a painful way in August. The she asked, Where? I told her my near-death story. Then she began to gush with excitement. She explained that her best friend s husband was the volunteer fireman that was both the witness and first responder to the accident. Then she said a chilling comment, He thinks you are dead, you ought to call him.

The lady opened her purse and wrote down a phone number to my rescuer. This unusual conversation led to a very unusual conversation. I was the not so dead man who was thanking his rescuer for the gift of life and for each new day.

How do thank someone for such a gift?

The joys and experiences of life that I have experienced these years have all been a gift from someone who was ready to rescue a stranger who was completely helpless and doomed.

This was not the first time that I have been rescued! Colossians 1:13 states for he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves

At another time in my life I was riding alone and far from God. I needed to be rescued from my own sinful self-centered ways. I was doomed to eternal death. Jesus was the one who meet me at the road-side and rescued me from certain eternal death in hell.

I prayed a simple prayer of faith that went like this; Dear God, Forgive me, I m a sinner. I place my faith in you to be my Lord and Savior. Amen.

I invite you to join this eternally rescued biker and put your faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus sacrifice on the cross was the means for my access to eternal life and hope, peace and purpose in this life.

How do I thank someone for such a great gift?

Tim Manzer

THE MOST IMPORTANT BODY PART

My mother used to ask me what is the most important part of the body and through the years I would take a guess at what I thought was the correct answer. When I was younger I thought sound was very important to us as humans so I said my ears mommy. She said "No, many people are deaf. But you keep thinking about it and I will ask you again soon."

Several years passed before she asked me again. Since my last attempt I contemplated a correct answer. So I told her "Mommy, sight is very important to everybody, so it must be our eyes." She looked at me and told me that I was learning fast but the answer is not correct because there are many people who are blind.

Stumped again I continued my quest for knowledge and over the years she asked me a couple more times and always the same answer "No. But you are getting smarter every year my young child."

Then last year my Grandpa died. Everybody was hurt. Everybody was crying. Even my father cried. I remember that especially because it is only the second time I saw him cry. My Mom looked at me when it was our turn to say our final good-bye to Grandpa. She asked me "Do you know the most important body part yet my son?" And I was shocked she asked me this now. I always thought this was a game between her and me. She saw the confusion on my face and told me "This question is very important. It shows that you have really lived in your life. For every body part you gave me in the past I have told you that it was wrong and given you an example why. But today is the day you need to learn this important lesson."

She looked down at me like only a mother can. I saw her eyes well up with tears. She said, "Son the most important body part is your shoulder." Was it because it held up my head? She replied, "No, because it can hold the head of a friend or loved one when they cry. Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on sometime in life my son. I only hope that you have enough love and friends that you will always have a shoulder to cry on when you need it." Then and there I knew the most important body part was not selfish, it was sympathetic to the pain of OTHERS.

You are a friend and whenever you want you can cry on my shoulder!!! People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did, but People will never forget how you made them feel.

-- Author Unknown

THE LITTLEST FIREFIGHTER

The 26-year-old mother stared down at her son who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dreams to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, "Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"

"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up." Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."

Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her six year old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.

Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven 'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! "And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat -- not a toy one -- with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get them fast."

Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his fire uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven.. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the paramedic's van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program.

Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.

One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital.

Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition. The chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It's just the fire department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room? About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital, extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window and 16 firefighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they loved him.

With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?"

"Billy, you are," the chief said.

With those words, Billy smiled and closed his eyes one last time.

The Daffodil Principle

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead.

"I will come next Tuesday," I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said, "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother."

"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

"I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage to pick up my car."

"How far will we have to drive?"

"Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!"

"We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils."

"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around."

"It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign that read, "Daffodil Garden." We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns-great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

"But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn.

"It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well kept A frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958." There it was, The Daffodil Principle. For me, that moment was a life-changing experience.

I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun-one bulb at a time-to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable (indescribable) magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time-often just one baby-step at a time-and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"

-- Author Unknown

The Apple Basket

One day an elderly man entered into a hospital. He was grumpy from being on medication and the nurses thought him to be insane, as he yelled for his wife to get the apple basket. By the time they had checked him into his room the nurses were exhausted from the fight he was putting up.

"Sir you have to calm down we are doing everything we can for you" they would try to explain.

"I don't need your help" the grumpy man would yell "I want my apple basket". He finally slept. The nurses sighed with relief and talked among themselves whether they should call the hospital psychologist about the old man and his obsession with the apple basket.

As they talked and laughed about the situation the wife came in carrying the basket of apples. They looked kind of stunned as she asked if she could see her husband and deliver his basket. Sure, they agreed as they watched her slip past into his room.

Curiosity consumed them over the next few weeks as they tended to the elderly man. He was eaten with cancer and the doctors had given him no hope of survival. He turned out to be a very calm, happy man once he had his basket. His wife, they noticed, would come in with apples and go out with apples and the curiosity grew even more till one nurse couldn't stand the suspense.

One night as he was nearing the end, the nurse sat down in a chair by the wife." May I ask why do you have that apple basket? I just don't understand the significance."

"I am an apple farmer by trade he sighed. From the time I was 20 till the day I do die I will forever have my apples." The nurse nodded thinking she understood. He just likes his work, she thought, assured now he was a little bit crazy.

As she started to leave, the old man asked her to sit down. "At age 20 I was saved, I accepted the Lord as my Savior." Oh no, the nurse thought. Here comes the lecture on religion. The old man continued. "The day I accepted the Lord as my Savior I got this basket, and each time I had a problem or concern that I could not handle, I put an apple in the basket un-shined."

"Why?" the nurse said shaking her head.

"Because it reminded me to give those problems to the Lord for him to shine. See my basket now," he stated. "As my problems disappear so do the apples. As I get new problems, ones I cannot handle alone, I put an apple in."

The humble nurse looked into the basket...only one apple was there.

With that, he took a big breath and grabbed his wife by the hand and faded into eternal sleep. The wife paused for a moment and got up from her place to take from the basket the last remaining apple. She whispered in his ear that his reward awaits him in heaven.

The nurse stayed still and asked with tears in her eyes, "what do you think his riches will be?"

The wife knew what they were, eternal life with Jesus Christ. But she could see the concern and sadness upon the young nurses' face and handed her the apple and said "the biggest apple pie you can imagine!"

That was the day the young nurse was saved, and from that day on she always had a basket by her bed.

-- Author Unknown

ONLY ONE CHILDHOOD

I stopped to watch my little girl busy playing in her room. In one hand was a plastic phone; in the other a toy broom.

I listened as she was speaking to her make believe little friend and I'll never forget the words she said, even though it was pretend.

She said "Suzie's in the corner cuz she's not been very good. She didn't listen to a word I said or do the things she should."

In the corner I saw her baby doll all dressed in lace and pink. It was obvious she'd been put there to sit alone and think. My daughter continued her "conversation," as I sat down on the floor.

She said, "I'm all fed up I just don't know what to do with her any more. She whines whenever I have to work and wants to play games, too; and never lets me do the things that I just have to do. She tries to help me with the dishes, but her arms just cannot reach and she doesn't know how to fold the towels and I don't have time to teach. I have a lot of work to do and a big house to keep clean. I don't have time to sit and play-- don't you know what I mean?"

And that day I thought a lot about making some changes in my life; as I listened to her innocent words that cut me like a knife.

I hadn't been paying enough attention to what I hold most dear. I'd been caught up in responsibilities that increased throughout the year. But now my attitude has changed because, in my heart, I realize I've seen the world in a different light through my little darling's eyes.

So, let the cobwebs have the corners and the dust bunnies rule the floor, I'm not going to worry about keeping up with them any more. I'm going to fill the house with memories of a child and her mother for God grants us only ONE childhood, and we will never get another.

-- Author Unknown

Don't we all?

I was parked in front of the mall wiping off my car. I had just come from the car wash and was waiting for my wife to get out of work. Coming my way from across the parking lot was what society would consider a bum. From the looks of him, he had no car, no home, no clean clothes, and no money. There are times when you feel generous but there are other times that you just don't want to be bothered. This was one of those "don't want to be bothered times."

"I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," I thought.

He didn't.

He came and sat on the curb in front of the bus stop but he didn't look like he could have enough money to even ride the bus.

After a few minutes he spoke.

"That's a very pretty car," he said.

He was ragged but he had an air of dignity around him. His scraggly blond beard keep more than his face warm.

I said, "thanks," and continued wiping off my car.

He sat there quietly as I worked. The expected plea for money never came. As the silence between us widened something inside said, "ask him if he needs any help." I was sure that he would say "yes" but I held true to the inner voice.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

He answered in three simple but profound words that I shall never forget. We often look for wisdom in great men and women. We expect it from those of higher learning and accomplishments. I expected nothing but an outstretched grimy hand. He spoke the three words that shook me.

"Don't we all?" he said.

I was feeling high and mighty, successful and important, above a bum in the street, until those three words hit me like a twelve gauge shotgun.

Don't we all?

I needed help. Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep, but I needed help. I reached in my wallet and gave him not only enough for bus fare, but enough to get a warm meal and shelter for the day. Those three little words still ring true. No matter how much you have, no matter how much you have accomplished, you need help too. No matter how little you have, no matter how loaded you are with problems, even without money or a place to sleep, you can give help. Even if it's just a compliment, you can give that.

You never know when you may see someone that appears to have it all. They are waiting on you to give them what they don't have. A different perspective on life, a glimpse at something beautiful, a respite from daily chaos, that only you through a torn world can see.

Maybe the man was just a homeless stranger wandering the streets. Maybe he was more than that. Maybe he was sent by a power that is great and wise, to minister to a soul too comfortable in themselves.

Maybe God looked down, called an Angel, dressed him like a bum, then said, "go minister to that man cleaning the car, that man needs help."

Don't we all?

--Author Unknown