Monday, January 27, 2014
THANKS FOR YOUR TIME
THANKS FOR YOUR TIME
A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door. It
had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career,
and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country
in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had
little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife
and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The
funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old
newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him.
I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were
doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the
fence' as he put it," Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure
you had a man's influence in your life," she said.
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this
business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he
thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children
of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see
the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused
for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap
through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step
held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture.... Jack stopped
suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said.
"What box? " Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must
have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was
'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,
except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get
some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work
one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a
package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next
three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and
looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was
difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.
"Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped
open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's
hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett.
It's the thing I valued most in my life."
A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his
eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful
gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing,
he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold
Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared
his appointments for the next two days.
"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments
that take our breath away,"
Thank you for your time.....
-- Author Unknown
<>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><
Visit our website at: http://www.emailministry.org
A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door. It
had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career,
and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country
in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had
little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife
and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The
funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old
newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him.
I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were
doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the
fence' as he put it," Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure
you had a man's influence in your life," she said.
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this
business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he
thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children
of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see
the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused
for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap
through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step
held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture.... Jack stopped
suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said.
"What box? " Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must
have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was
'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,
except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get
some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work
one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a
package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next
three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and
looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was
difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.
"Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped
open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's
hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett.
It's the thing I valued most in my life."
A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his
eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful
gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing,
he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold
Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared
his appointments for the next two days.
"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments
that take our breath away,"
Thank you for your time.....
-- Author Unknown
<>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><
Visit our website at: http://www.emailministry.org
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Join our group on Facebook and post your comments on the reflection: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=142903436398
FFT Archive: http://efoodforthought.blogspot.com/
http://home.earthlink.net/~foodforthought2/index.html
Group Address: http://groups.google.com/group/dailyfoodforthought
GROUP CONTACT:
To subscribe from this group, share a reflection or feedback
on the reflection of the day, send email to: foodforthought2@earthlink.net
To unsubscribe : dailyfoodforthought-unsubscribe@googlegroups.com
DISCLAIMER: FoodForThought shared this message as submitted and do not
claim to own any copyright privileges on it. All the messages are
believed to be free for circulation or public domain. All messages come
in either by email in original form or copied from the internet sites.
The work was submitted to us as an item for distribution, and it was
posted solely on the basis of its quality.
© 2014 FoodForThought
---
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "F O O D F O R T H O U G H T" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to dailyfoodforthought+unsubscribe@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
