Feb 14, 2009

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Well, thank you all for participating in my February blog GIVEAWAY. Everyone who commented on their favorite item from my shop had their name put in the bowl and a few of you earned more than one entry by following the blog and sharing your favorite Valentine's Day memory. My husband chose one of your names from the bowl and the time has come to reveal our winner for this month.

Congratulations to Angie Riopelle!

Angie chose the "Be My Valentine" scarf as her prize.
I'm looking forward to hearing all about what she did for her husband this year. Enjoy the warm and cozy scarf, Angie.

Stay tuned in the next couple weeks for my March blog GIVEAWAY because it's going to be extra special. It's my birthday month, so I'm looking for wonderful ideas to make this one a real doozie in honor of ME.


Feb 10, 2009

How will people remember you?......

A friend passed this story along to me and I feel it is worth passing on to you. What we do and how we are with people is far more powerful than we realize most of the time. How will people remember you?......

Why we are here

When I drove up in my taxi cab at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many taxi drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute and then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself...

So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like someone out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way", I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind", she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left", she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing", I said.
"You have to make a living" she answered.
"There are other passengers" I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy" she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut...
It was the sound of the closing of a life.

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.

People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.


Feb 3, 2009

Did You Miss it?

Ok, for those of you who missed Shay's beautiful treasury here is the picture of my Blue Skies scarf (and my lovely daughter):


So, what do you think of it? Post your opinion below.

Another new look...

Ok, as you may have noticed (unless this is your first time visiting), I changed my blog background.....again.

You may find this to be the case for the next little while (and invariably throughout the course of your following me as it is simply a part of my nature) as I try to find a background I'm in love with. So far, I really like this one. The last one was alright except I didn't really like the pink accents as pink is not a color in my shop's "scheme".

Please feel free to post your opinions and suggestions about the look of the blog. I love feedback.

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...