(This is a repeat of a post from a couple of years ago. Just seemed apropos. You guys have a really good day.)
From Bill St. Clair: A Sweet Lesson on Patience.
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
When I first came to this area, I spent the first year and a half working at a little shop repairing chainsaws and tillers and selling propane.
This is not a rich place – for most of the people I met during that period it’s quite a poor one. A guy’s generator goes out, maybe he can’t pump water. His chainsaw takes a dump, maybe his family doesn’t have firewood. After a while you get to thinking maybe your job is more important than you originally thought. Maybe sometimes you’re right about that.
So maybe sometimes, you know – that little old lady who comes in at the end of the month and can only afford four gallons in her five-gallon propane tank, paying with loose change – maybe you go ahead and fill the bottle. It’s three bucks out of your pocket. If you got something better to spend it on, go do that. The Indian with the two kids in his pickup, ragged coats – maybe his worn-the-hell-out chainsaw needs to go to the front of the queue. It’s all the same to me which machine I get back on its knees next. Might be more important to him.
I’m not superstitious about anything but karma. And I have no evidence that karma has any more reality than leprechauns. Hell, I always tried to do the right thing, all my life, and mostly it got me kicked in the teeth. Expecting anything back from it is a sucker’s bet. Mostly it’s just a way to justify making myself feel good about … myself. I never met most of those people again. But I figure what the hell? Nobody ever died from taking a minute to do the right thing, y’know? For no better reason than because you can.
Oh yes, that’s a keeper. I break down crying each time I read that. As a hospice nurse, I’ve seen so many….
Thanks for linking to the post. I had not seen it before and the details are very important.
Oh and by the way…Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
To both Bill and Joel….well said.
To butcher an old phrase “The best revenge is a life well lived…”
Joel – I’ve found LB’s family http://9gag.com/gag/azb5VNz…
Love and Light,
Chocs
Right size, wrong color. 🙂
Yup! Perhaps an aunt or uncle of his…
(And now I’m thinking, shyte – I can never visit Joel, because LB would prolly think I’m dessert…. 4’5” short, as a mutual friend of ours says)
Ah well, when I go off-grid (eventually), I’ll have to find me a LB and Ghost of my own.
Naw, come on over. The only people LB can’t warm up to are bigger than me. My size or smaller, he’s usually willing to make friends.
Though there have been exceptions. He needs to be formally introduced to strangers, because his default assumption is that they’re there to hurt him, and he takes a stiff line about that. I pity the fool of any size who opens the cabin door when I’m not home.
Yay! lol. And I’m betting the welcome would be a good one, ‘specially if he happens to scent the bones I’d bring with 😉 Dogs aren’t my top-favourite animals (cats and horses are) but I do have a healthy respect for them : I grew up with purebred dobermanns on a farm.
At the moment, I have a black labrador/rottweiler cross, who is 11years old but thinks he’s 11 months… and it’s the same thing. He loves people, but he has to be introduced to them and/or either Mom or I have to say it’s ok to be nice to them.
Hmm… I’ll have to seriously think about that. (our dear Overlords might have concerns about me coming back into the country).
Sometimes I do think you’ve got the lucky end of the stick – for the second day in a row, I have to deal with my loud, overbearing, boisterous extended family. Gimme a quiet, shady spot under a nearby tree, with a book, and leave me in peace. Sigh.
Bless you mutherfucker.