you always-Daddy

Dołączył: 05 Lis 2009 Posty: 5

On Christmas Day, all the joys of a close family relationship radiated throughout our parents' home. The smells of roasted turkey, Southern?baked ham and homemade bread hung in the air. Tables and chairs were set up everywhere to accommodate toddlers, teenagers, parents and grandparents. Every room was lavishly decorated. No family member had ever missed Christmas Day with our mother and father.

Only this year, things were different. Our father had passed away November 26, and this was our first Christmas without him. Mother was doing her best to be the gracious hostess, but I could tell this was especially hard for her. I felt a catch in my throat, and again I wondered if I should give her my planned Christmas gift, or if it had become inappropriate in my father's absence.
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A few months earlier I had been putting the finishing touches on portraits I had painted of each of my parents. I'd planned to give them as Christmas gifts. This would be a surprise for everyone, as I had not studied art or tried serious painting. There had been an undeniable urge within that pushed me relentlessly to do this. The portraits did look like them, but I was still unsure of my painting techniques.

While painting one day, I was surprised by a doorbell ring. Quickly putting all my painting materials out of sight, I opened the door. To my astonishment, my father ambled in alone, never before having visited me without my mother. Grinning, he said, "I've missed our early morning talks. You know, the ones we had before you decided to leave me for another man!" I hadn't been married long. Also, I was the only girl and the baby of the family.
Immediately I wanted to show him the paintings, but I was reluctant to ruin his Christmas surprise. Yet something urged me to share this moment with him. After swearing him to secrecy, I insisted he keep his eyes closed until I had the portraits set on easels. "Okay, Daddy. Now you can look!"
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He appeared dazed but said nothing. Getting up, he walked closer to inspect them. Then he withdrew to eye them at a distance. I tried to control my stomach flip flops. Finally, with a tear esca
Thrilled with his response, I happily volunteered to drop them off the next day at the frame shop. Several weeks passed. Then one night in November the phone rang, and a cold chill numbed my body. I picked up the receiver to hear my husband, a doctor, say, "I'm in the emergency room. Your father has had a stroke. It's bad, but he is still alive."

Daddy lingered in a coma for several days. I went to see him in the hospital the day before he died. I slipped my hand in his and asked, "Do you know who I am, Daddy?"
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He surprised everyone when he whispered, "You're my darling daughter." He died the next day, and it seemed all joy was drained from the lives of my mother and me.

I finally remembered to call about the portrait framing and thanked God my father had gotten a chance to see the pictures before he died. I was surprised when the shopkeeper told me my father had visited the shop, paid for the framing and had them gift?wrapped. In all our grief, I had no longer planned to give the portraits to my mother.
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Even though we had lost the patriarch of our family, everyone was assembled on Christmas Day-making an effort to be cheerful. As I looked into my mother's sad eyes and unsmiling face, I decided to give her Daddy's and my gift. As she stripped the paper from the box, I saw her heart wasn't in it. There was a small card inside attached to the pictures.

After looking at the portraits and reading the card, her entire demeanor changed. She bounced out of her chair, handed the card to me and commissioned my brothers to hang the paintings facing each other over the fireplace. She stepped back and looked for a long while. With sparkling, tear-filled eyes and a wide smile, she quickly turned and said, "I knew Daddy would be with us on Christmas Day!"
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I glanced at the gift card scrawled in my father's handwriting. "Mother-Our daughter reminded me why I am so blessed. I'll be looking at you always-Daddy."

Dołączył: 19 Sty 2010 Posty: 5

The Wallet

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. (world of warcraft power leveling)
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 earlier. 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, to identify the owner. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope. The operator 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 ask whoever answered if the person wanted her to connect me. Aion kina

I waited a few minutes and then the super－visor 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 thirty 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. The woman on the phone told me the old lady had passed away some years ago, but the nursing home did have a phone number for where the daughter might be living. I thanked the person at the nursing home and phoned the number she gave me. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home. This whole thing is stupid, I thought to myself. Why am I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that has only three dollars and a letter that is almost sixty 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. "

world of warcraft gold,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, silverhaired old－timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eyes. 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 sixteen 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, tears welled up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael. . . "I thanked Hannah and said good－bye. 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. " ffxi gil

　"Who's Mr. Goldstein？"I asked, as my hand began to shake. "He 's one of the old－timers on the eighth 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 hiswallet. 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. " world of warcraft power leveling

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. "

"Michael, " 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 toward 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. "

wow power leveling, 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!"