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April10, 2007 - "For what they are" >> |
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"I Believe in you!"
A message of Hope...stories from the
road.
By Bob Perks
************************************************
Hello, my Friend!
I am proud of my story today. It is an expression of
my desire to
bring the best I can to you each time. It's the
writer I want to be I celebrate once
in awhile.
A blessed holiday to all celebrating.
My best to you...always.
Bob
************************************************
Perks Pearl of Wisdom
"You cannot do what you cannot believe and you will never
achieve anything
without believing first you are worthy." Bob
Perks
************************************************
Appreciate what I do?
Here's how you can help me:
This link will take you to my web page for more
information,
shopping, and ways you can help.
I humbly thank you in advance...
Love always and all ways,
Bob and Marianne
Perks ********************************************
All stories copyright 2007 Bob Perks
Today's message:
"The Fallen"
By Bob Perks
Not much credit is given to boys for having any sense of
caring about the stuff of life.
We are most often portrayed as beat 'em up, dirty
them up, push and shove creatures
that find more joy in a fight than a
flower.
We have our moments.
It was Spring of 1959. Winter had produced the kind
of snowfalls that now provide an
arsenal of great stories I hope to one day share with my
own grandchildren. You know, the ones
that begin with, "I can remember when I was a kid, snow
fell so deep we lost the dog until Spring!"
Or some other great exaggeration.
We had been inside a bit too much that year so we welcomed
the chance to go back up into the
woods nearby and play the games that ignited the
imagination of a young boy.
We were running, climbing, digging and tapping into energy
we forgot we had that day.
The back alleys and paths to the park were lined with
dozens of kids. As welcoming as it was,
it also created some tense moments as older boys
laid claim to small patches of land and tree top
perches we often used to our advantage when playing war
games.
My friends and I were on our way to our favorite stomping
ground when we were confronted by a
small group of boys who lived a few blocks away from our
neighborhood. Upon our approach, we
could see them plotting and planning some type of
harassment.
We kept our heads up, kicked off the dirt from
our sneakers and ran like lightening through the
narrow pass in an effort to avoid
any problems.
I sighed relief as I slowed down catching my breath and
counting my blessings for having made it without
trouble.
But that wasn't good enough. At that age there is a
fine line between bravery and stupidity. We paused, turned
around and shouted some taunting words of wisdom..."Na,
na. Na, na na! You didn't scare us!"
War erupted. Not the war of men but the battles
fought with sticks and stones tossed aimlessly back and forth
between young boys. No one was ever seriously hurt,
but the scars of small nicks and bruises served well for weeks
afterwards as we gathered and shared stories of how hard
we fought before.
The dust had settled, we called each other "sissy" names
and went on about our business that day. Well, most of us
did.
Heading on to the park, I happened to notice that one of
my friends was not with us.
"Where's Jimmy?" I asked.
"I dunno. Back there somewhere," someone
said.
"You guys go ahead. I'll go find him."
I returned to the spot where we earlier had done battle
with the gang from the other side. Jimmy was nowhere to be
found.
Scanning the area, I ventured off into the small
overgrowth areas looking behind rocks and up in the trees hoping to find
him.
Suddenly I heard the sound of someone whimpering.
"Jimmy, is that you?" I shouted.
Again I could hear someone sniffling and crying
softly.
As I turned I saw him seated on the ground leaning against
a huge oak tree. His head was bowed and he struggled to wipe
tears from his face. Boys don't cry. Being
caught with tears on your face is a scar never goes away.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Ya, I'm...I'm okay," he replied.
"Did you get hit?"
"No, I didn't. I didn't get hit, but it did," he
said.
Then raising his hands toward me, I saw a small bird he
held gently.
"Is he dead?" I asked.
"I think so."
"How do you know he got hit?"
Then looking up he went on to tell me what he had
seen. Apparently, in a hail of rocks thrown by the other boys, he had
just stood up to return fire when, in what appeared to be
a slow motion movie-like moment, he saw a rock "the size of a
boulder" (we love to exaggerate) headed his
way.
"Bob, I could see it coming at me straight into my eye,"
he recounted.
"Then, what happened?"
"He took the hit for me," he said.
"What?"
"In a split second, I saw the bird on the branch to my
left and the rock headed my way. Just like that, the bird took off
and
jumped from the branch right in front of the rock.
Pow! I fell to the ground and he landed right in front of my
face."
Jimmy began stroking the bird he held and tears
pooled in the corner of his eyes once more.
"Ah, you're not going to tell the guys, are
you?"
"No, not me, Jimmy."
"Maybe if I rub him a bit, he'd come to life again," he
said.
"Hey, give it a try," I said.
I glanced off to the side looking for a proper spot to
bury it. Boys don't normally do things like this.
We find dead things and watch
the ants eat their brains and call it "cool."
"Bob!" he shouted. "Look!"
I couldn't believe it. The small bird was actually
alive.
"It had felt warm to the touch a few moments ago, but I
really thought it was dead," he said.
He cupped his hands together and blowing his
warm breath into the center he tried to comfort it.
The small wings trembled a few times, stretching out
periodically.
He opened his hands to reveal the small bird and it stood
for a moment only to fall once again.
Neither of us spoke a word as we watched the bird
struggle.
"Maybe we should pray," he said.
Now we were into a territory most boys would stay clear
of. Tears and prayers were not of men and warriors.
"What do I say?" he asked.
"I don't know. A prayer."
We bowed our heads and waited for some
inspiration.
"Now I lay me down to sleep..." Jimmy began.
"Not that one," I said.
"It's the only one I know," he replied.
"Oh, okay...."
Suddenly the bird stood up on Jimmy's hand, shook off
the dust of the day and flew away.
We were speechless.
Almost immediately, we heard the rest of our friends
approaching.
"Wipe your face, " I whispered. "Here, put some dirt
on it."
"Hey, what happened?" one of the boys
asked.
"Jimmy was hit pretty hard. He even passed
out. When I came around the corner here, he was
moaning,"I said.
"He looks like he was crying," someone said
laughing.
"Get out of here, that's sweat and dirt on his
face. When he got up he wanted to go beat up the
guys that hit him. I had to fight him back and hold
him here until you guys came."
Good answer.
"Ah, forget it. Let's keep going. It's getting
late."
"Hey, how'd you find him over here anyway?" one of my
friends asked.
I looked at Jimmy and said, " A little bird told
me."
I had forgotten about that moment until this very
day. It wasn't until I realized what today was that I suddenly
found
it significant.
For if you are celebrating the Christian holiday of
Easter you might well understand.
It was on this very day
that someone took the blows of a
hammer and nails on a cross so we did not
have to. He too died and miraculously rose
again.
I don't know if Jimmy ever saw it that way or remembers it
ever happening at all. But I see now the
greater lesson in that moment. It appears in a card I
created a few years ago...
"A tenderhearted man is not weak. It takes great
strength to carry so much love for life." Bob Perks
"I believe in you!"
Bob
I encourage you to share my stories but I do ask
that you keep my name and
contact information with my work.
*********************************************
Comments:
Have a comment about today's story?
please write to "2 believe @ comcast .net"
(spaces were placed between words in email
address for security)
"I Wish You enough!"
© 2001 Bob Perks I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye." |
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April10, 2007 - "For what they are" >> |
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