Monday, November 17, 2014
"Oh, the places you'll go"
The book named above is on my desk ready to be wrapped for Christmas.It is for my two year old soccer playing, letters knowing granddaughter, Maddie.It's a Dr. Seuss, so colorful and inviting.I got the idea from a story I saw on-line.A Dad bought this book for his young daughter and then took it when she out-grew it, and had teachers, friends, and coaches write little messages to her in the book.He did this for many years and when she graduated from high school, that love letter book was her present.How very thoughtful.I am sure she was touched beyond measure.
This got me thinking of the people in my life and what they would have written if someone had done this for me.Strolling through the years, I see these little notes :
On the opening page, the first word is Congratulations and I think of the card my then 19 year old sent when I was promoted by BellSouth after 13 years.He wrote:" Wow.Good for you to be in management with such a big, important company." He acknowledged that I started my working career as a Green Stamp clerk and knew and appreciated that I kept very little of my paycheck.Thsi was so long ago, but it touches me still.
The second page says: "You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes" and I recall with smiles the young Atlanta man that we met while walking on the Camino.We were chatting about how hard the walk was.He had me laughing hilariously about our mutual deprivations and then I explained how we were taking it easy not to get hurt.He took my hand and said,"I admire your wisdom."I admit I glowed a bit ,well, quite a bit.
Another page mentions that:"It's opener there in the wide open air."I think of the friends we made in Denver, Huntington Beach,California and here in Georgia when we cut ties and headed West to make our own lives.What would they have written in my book?From them I learned of Natural Childbirth, the joy of bells, that I was a good Sunday School teacher.And that with faith, any place could be home.
I would like to have had a note from Mrs. Rooney, my older friend on Long Island, who listened and understood a lonely, skinny merink tossing about in her teen-age years.Or Uncle Les could have written that he thought I had sterling character.How that spare comment helped me live a better life.Maybe Sister Elizabeth Loretto could have written that I was mature enough to read a racy novel for a book report.She saved me without knowing it.
You have no idea how my imaginary book has made my gratitude index soar.