September 11 ( 9/11 ) Story

by Unknown

"You say you will never forget where you were when you heard the news On September 11, 2001. Neither will I. I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room with a man who called his wife to say "Good-Bye." I held his fingers steady as he dialed. I gave him the peace to say, "Honey, I am not going to make it, but it is OK...I am ready to go." I was with his wife when he called as she fed breakfast to their children. I held her up as she tried to understand his words and as she realized he wasn't coming home that night. I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a woman cried out to Me for help. "I have been knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!" I said. "Of course I will show you the way home - only believe in Me now." I was at the base of the building with the Priest ministering to the injured and devastated souls. I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven. He heard my voice and answered. I was on all four of those planes, in every seat, with every prayer. I was with the crew as they were overtaken. I was in the very hearts of the believers there, comforting and assuring them that their faith has saved them. I was in Texas, Kansas, London. I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news. Did you sense Me? I want you to know that I saw every face. I knew every name - ! though not all know Me. Some met Me for the first time on the 86th floor. Some sought Me with their last breath. Some couldn't hear Me calling to them through the smoke and flames; "Come to Me... this way... take my hand." Some chose, for the final time, to ignore Me. But, I was there. I did not place you in the Tower that day. You may not know why, but I do. However, if you were there in that explosive moment in time, would you have reached for Me? September 11, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you. But someday your journey will end. And I will be there for you as well. Seek Me now while I may be found. Then, at any moment, you know you ! are "ready to go." I will be in the stairwell of your final moments. God.

The Wallet

by Rev. Mary.

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years. The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago. It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah. It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. "Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?" She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with you." I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!" "Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked. "I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter." She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home. This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old? Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. " Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television." I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah. She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael." She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor." "Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..." I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?" I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet." I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times." "Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake. "He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up. On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man." We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!" "This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?" I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward." "No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet." The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?" "Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is." He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged. "She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly. The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. " "Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me." We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her. "Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?" She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?" She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces. "See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be." About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!" It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple. A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

The Blind Bus Passenger

submitted by Hamza Hassan

The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. she paid the driver, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle, and found the seat he\'d told her was empty. then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap, and rested her cane against her leg. it had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. due to a medical misdiagnosis, she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration, and self-pity. once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless and helpless burden on everyone around her. "how could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger, but no matter how much she cried, protested, ranted, or prayed, she knew the painful truth that her sight was never going to return. a cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. and all she had to cling to was her husband mark. mark was an air forces officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. when she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again. mark's military background had trained him well to deal with such sensitive situations, and yet he knew this was the most difficult battle he would ever face. finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? she used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. mark volunteered to drive her to and from work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. at first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. soon, however, mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working, it was hectic and costly. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again\' he admitted to himself, but just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe, she was still so fragile and so angry. 'how would she react?' he admitted to himself again. just as mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "i'm blind!" she responded bitterly "how am i supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you are abandoning me". mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. he promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. and that is exactly what happened. for two solid weeks, mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. he taught her how to rely on her other senses specifically her hearing, how to determine where she was, and how to adapt to her new environment. he helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. he made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. each morning they made the journey together, and mark would take a cab back to his office. although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. he believed in her, he used to know before she'd lost her sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit. finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his sincerity, his patience, and his love. she said good-bye, and for the first time they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. she was doing it and she was going to work all by herself. on Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. as she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said "hey, I sure envy you" Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. after all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year?. curiously, she asked him "why do you say that you envy me?" the driver responded "it must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are". Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, she asked him again "what do you mean?". the driver answered, "you know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. he makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute, and walks away. you are one lucky lady". tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. for although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt mark\'s presence. she was fortunate, so fortunate, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe, the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness. you don't love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her. god watches over us in just the same way. we may not know his presence, and we may not be able to see his blessed face, but he is there nonetheless... he is there no doubt, we must be so thankful and grateful for him for he is always there for us. be blessed in this thought: 'god loves you even when you are not looking'.

Love At First Sight

by Anna Billa

I also met my love on the net, at first it was not that easy, and i nearly gave up after few email communication, i decided to drop down my phone number and was very desperate hoping it will not work out. One fine day i had a phone call, and he was at the other end wanting to speak to me, from that moment we exchange the feelings and realized we really love each other. we have been communicating through phone, emails , skype and always spend more hours talking to each other, now we have come to a conclusion that we love each other and that we are meant for each other, so we want to break the distance, that happens so fast. we are now looking on how to be together to enjoys the fantastic love between us. he lives in Belgium and i in Cameroon, i need help to handle all this especially how to live together because i can't leave without him. i love him so much and i don\'t bear for more months staying alone here with my sweet love. thanks to the net that brought my love one to me.

An Unforgettable First Kiss

Unknown

My very first kiss... yes, I remember it well. She had been visiting my family this Sunday afternoon into the early evening. It was in the middle of winter and being in a northern state, it was very cold. Time finally came for her to return to her family a couple of blocks away from where I lived. I helped her on with her coat and she and I stepped through the door onto an uncovered porch. The window in the door was all steamed up from the heat within so no one could see us outside except as a blur. When we stepped outside, we found that is was pouring down snow in very large flakes and starting to gather on the ground. As we were standing there watching the snow, we turned toward each other, no words had been spoken, as if the snow had taken away our ability to talk. We looked into each other's eyes and still without saying a word, we stepped toward each other, we embraced and then our lips met; soft, warm, moist a totally sensual moment, but being so young, we had only the vaguest idea what sensual was. Our lips stayed together a long time, the snow falling in these huge drops around us and on us. Finally we parted and we both knew that THE THING had finally happened for both of us. Our First Kiss. Unforgettable.

The Story Of Life

by Unknown
Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never know who these people may be...possibly your roommate, neighbor, coworker, long lost friend, or even a complete stranger, but when you lock eyes with them, you know at that very moment they will affect your life in some profound way. And sometimes things happen to you that may seem horrible, painful, and unfair at first, but in reflection you find that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, willpower, or heart. Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by means of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness, and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without these small tests, whatever they may be, life would be like a smoothly paved, straight, flat road to nowhere. It would be safe and comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless. The people you meet who affect your life, and the success and downfalls you experience, help to create who you are and who you become. Even the bad experiences can be learned from. In fact, they are probably the most poignant and important ones. If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious when you open your heart. If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love and how to open your heart and eyes to things. Make every day count. Appreciate every moment and take from those moments everything that you possibly can for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk to people that you have never talked to before, and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to. Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself, for if you don’t believe in yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in you. You can make of your life anything you wish. Create your own life and then go out and live it with absolutely no regrets. Most importantly!!! if you LOVE someone tell him or her, for you never know what tomorrow may have in store. And learn a lesson in life each day that you live. THAT’S THE STORY OF LIFE

Chain Of Love

by Unknown
He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the Levis factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you m'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm. By the way, my name is Joe." Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough Joe crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down her window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been alright with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Joe added "...and think of me". He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor, it didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Joe. After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get her change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes, when she read what the lady wrote. It said, "You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too. Someone once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here's what you do. Don't let the chain of love end with you." Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be alright, I love you Joe."