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Heirloom

9/24/2014

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
It had belonged to Great-Grandmother and he knew he must be very careful. The vase was one of mother's dearest treasures. She had told him so.

The vase placed high on the mantle, was out of reach of little hands, but somehow he managed. He just wanted to see if the tiny rosebud border went all around the back. He didn't realize that a boy's five-year-old hands are sometimes clumsy and not meant to hold delicate porcelain treasures. It shattered when it hit the floor, and he began to cry. That cry soon became a sobbing wail, growing louder and louder. From the kitchen, his mother heard her son crying and came around the corner. She stopped then, looked at him, and saw what he had done.

Between his sobs, he could hardly speak the words, "I broke.... the vase."

And then his mother gave him a gift. With a look of relief, his mother said "Oh, thank heavens, I thought you were hurt!" And she held him tenderly until his sobbing stopped.

She made it very clear... he was the treasure. Though now a grown man, it is a gift he still carries in his heart.             

Original Story by Ann Weems, retold by Alice Gray in Stories for the Heart.


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Jessie's Glove

7/9/2014

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© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
I do a lot of management training each year for the Circle K Corporation, a national chain of convenience stores. Among the topics we address in our seminars is the retention of quality employees - a real challenge to managers when you consider the pay scale in the service industry.

During these discussions, I ask the participants, "What has caused you to stay long enough to become a manager?" Some time back a new manager took the question and slowly, with her voice almost breaking, said, "It was a $19 baseball glove."

Cynthia told the group that she originally took a Circle K clerk job as an interim position while she looked for something better. On her second or third day behind the counter, she received a phone call from her nine-year old son, Jessie. He needed a baseball glove for Little League. She explained that as a single mother, money was very tight, and her first check would have to go for paying bills. Perhaps she could buy his baseball glove with her second or third check.

When Cynthia arrived for work the next morning Patricia, the store manager, asked her to come to the small room in back of the store that served as an office. Cynthia wondered if she had done something wrong or left some part of her job incomplete from the day before. She was concerned and confused.

Patricia handed her a box. "I overheard you talking to your son yesterday," she said, "and I know that it is hard to explain things to kids. This is a baseball glove for Jessie because he may not understand how important he is, even though you have to pay bills before you can buy gloves. You know we can't pay good people like you as much as we would like to; but we do care, and I want you to know you are important to us."

The thoughtfulness, empathy and love of this convenience store manager demonstrates vividly that people remember more how much an employer cares than how much the employer pays. An important lesson for the price of a Little League baseball glove.


Author: Rick Phillips, Heart At Work

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Love Your Neighbor

6/20/2014

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
Fred Rogers, the former star of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, used to carry a simple line around in his wallet. It was a line from a Benedictine nun, Sister Mary Lou Kownacki. It said: “There isn’t anyone you couldn’t love once you’ve heard their story.” It was something Rogers clung to until the day he died, according to his wife, who helped put together the book, The World According to Fred Rogers: Important Things to Remember.”

Another piece of wisdom that Mr. Rogers always followed was that of Western star Gabby Hayes. One day, Mr. Rogers asked Hayes what he was thinking about when he looked into the camera?

Hayes’ response: He was thinking about . . . “That little buckaroo who’s out there, watching the show, and I speak directly to him.” Mr. Rogers followed in Hayes’ footsteps and never looked back.

© 2008, John C. Fitts, III.  All Rights Reserved.  Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 6 (2008).


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Taps

3/27/2014

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
The following is reportedly the story of the origin of “Taps,” played at military funerals.

Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment.

When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted.


The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.


The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted. The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" – used at military funerals – was born. The words are:
 
 Day is done.. Gone the sun.
 From the lakes. From the hills. From the sky.
 All is well. Safely rest. God is nigh.
  
 Fading light. Dims the sight.
 And a star. Gems the sky. Gleaming bright.
 From afar. Drawing nigh. Falls the night.
 
 Thanks and praise. For our days.
 Neath the sun. Neath the stars. Neath the sky
 As we go. This we know. God is nigh.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 5 (2007).


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Wet Pants

2/19/2014

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
Come with me to a third grade classroom . . .  There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants is wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives.

The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, "Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat."

He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered. As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap.
The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!"

Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else -- Susie. She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. “You've done enough, you klutz!"

Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Susie whispers back, "I wet my pants once too."

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 5 (2007).


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A Great Dog Story

2/11/2014

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
Anyone who has pets will really like this. You'll like it even if you don't and you may even decide you need one!

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog named 'Lucky.' Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing.


Mary or Jim would go to Lucky's toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky's other favorite toys. Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.


It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease....in fact, she was just sure it was fatal. She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders.

The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her...what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary's dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won't understand that I didn't want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn't even make it up the steps to her bedroom.  Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap.

Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn't come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed. When Mary woke for a second she couldn't understand what was wrong. She couldn't move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned! While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love.

Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every day. It's been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky? He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

Remember...the people who make a difference in our lives are not the ones with the most credentials, most money, or most awards. They are the ones who care for us.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 5 (2007).


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Shopping for Love

9/5/2013

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
I am flat broke from overspending at Christmas time. But I need to go shopping again soon because I am completely out of self-respect. I've said things I wish I could take back and I am not feeling too good about myself.

I also want to exchange a carton of self righteousness for an equal amount of humility. I hear that it is less expensive and wears well, and while I'm at it I'm going to check on tolerance and see if there is any available in my size.

I must remember to try to match my patience with the little I have left. My neighbor is loaded with it and it looks awfully good on her. I was told the same department has a repair shop for mending integrity. Mine has become frayed around the edges from too much compromising. If I don't get it refurbished soon, there won't be any left.

I almost forgot the most important thing of all -- compassion. If I see some-no matter what the color, size or shape -- I'm going to stock up heavily regardless of the price. I have run out of it so many times and I always feel ashamed when it happens.

I don't know why it has taken me so long to get around to shopping for these items. They don't cost nearly as much as some of the frivolous things I bought at Christmas time. And I'll get a lot more satisfaction from them.

Yes, I'm going shopping today and I can leave my checkbook and credit cards at home! The things I'm looking for have no price-tags.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 4 (2006).


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The Wooden Bowl

7/31/2013

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.


The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon and onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.


"We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor." So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.


Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.


Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he had dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.


One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child curiously, "What are you making?"


Sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up."  The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.


The words so struck the parents that they were speechless! Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.


That evening, the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, when milk was spilled, or when the tablecloth was soiled.

Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 4 (2006).


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A Trick

7/12/2013

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
A young man, a student in one of our universities, was one day taking a walk with a professor, who was commonly called the students' friend, from his kindness to those who waited on his instructions.

As they went along, they saw lying in the path a pair of old shoes, which they supposed to belong to a poor man who was employed in a field close by, and who had nearly finished his day's work.

The student turned to the professor, saying: "Let us play the man a trick: we will hide his shoes, and conceal ourselves behind those bushes, and wait to see his perplexity when he cannot find them."

"My young friend," answered the professor, "we should never amuse ourselves at the expense of the poor. But you are rich, and may give yourself a much greater pleasure by means of the poor man. Put a $20 into each shoe, and then we will hide ourselves and watch how the discovery affects him."

The student did so, and they both placed themselves behind the bushes close by.

The poor man soon finished his work, and came across the field to the path where he had left his coat and shoes. While putting on his coat he slipped his foot into one of his shoes; but feeling something, he stooped down to feel what it was, and found the money.

Astonishment and wonder were seen upon his countenance. He gazed upon the bill, turned it round, and looked at it again and again. He then looked around him on all sides, but no person was to be seen. He now put the money into his pocket, and proceeded to put on the other shoe; but his surprise was doubled on finding the other bill.

His feelings overcame him; he fell upon his knees, looked up to heaven and uttered aloud a fervent thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his wife, sick and helpless, and his children without bread, whom the timely bounty, from some unknown hand, would save from perishing.

The student stood there deeply affected, and his eyes filled with tears. "Now," said the professor, "are you not much better pleased than if you had played your intended trick?"

The youth replied, "You have taught me a lesson which I will never forget. I feel now the truth of those words, which I never understood before: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

Author Unknown. Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).


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The Puppy

6/1/2013

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Picture© Patty Fitts. All Rights Reserved.
One day an eight-year-old boy went to the pet store with his dad to buy a puppy. The store manager showed them to a pen where five little furry balls huddled together. After a while, the boy noticed one of the litter all by itself in an adjacent pen.

The boy asked, "Why is that puppy all alone?"

The manager explained, "That puppy was born with a bad leg and would be crippled for life, so we're going to have to put him to sleep."

"You're going to kill this little puppy?" the boy said sadly while patting it.

"You have to realize that this puppy would never be able to run and play with a boy like you."

After a short conversation with his boy, the dad told the manager that they wanted to buy the puppy with the bad leg.

"For the same amount of money, you could have one of the "healthy" ones. Why do you want this one?"

To answer the manager's question, the boy bent over and pulled up the pants on his right leg, exposed the brace underneath and said, "Mister, I want this one because I understand what he's going through."

This principle is at the heart of those who reach out to help others. We know what they are going through. Scripture says, "God comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God."


Reprinted from Grace Drops, Volume 3 (2005).

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    Author

    John Fitts is a retired hospital chaplain and a contributor & publisher of Grace Drops. John lives in Palm Harbor, Florida with his artist wife, Patty. 
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