[MOL] Fwd: Fw: A really good story [01977] Medicine On Line


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[MOL] Fwd: Fw: A really good story



 

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-----Original Message-----
From: Lynda Ovena - Mah <lyndao@equitrac.com>
To: Winnie Marsh (E-mail) <winniem@equitrac.com>
Date: Tuesday, May 25, 1999 5:00 PM
Subject: FW: A really good story


>
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: DP_Federal [SMTP:DP_Federal@email.msn.com]
>Sent: Tuesday, May 25, 1999 3:45 PM
>To: Agnes M; Arlene Macapinlac; Bebut; Cathy; Cindy Kittleson; Dan & Maris;
>Dan Sahagun; Dave Bentley; Dulce & Roger; Ed & Patchot; Edith & Rolly;
>Ernie & KIt; Felix & Maria; Glen & Zeny; Jc Magno; John Beren; Jun & Zenny;
>Lea & Bong; Luisito Narciso; Lynda Ovena Mah; Matt Obrian; Paul & Rose;
>Pete & Judyline; Pilar Cordero; Robert Toppen; Teoddy Cruz; 'Tom and Donna'
>Subject: Fw: A really good story
>
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: Carolyn R. Rodgers <crodgers@texhoma.net>
>To: Rex Corley <Unit1442@aol.com>
>Date: Monday, May 24, 1999 9:46 AM
>Subject: Fw: A really good story
>
>
>
>-----Original Message-----
>From: Carolyn R. Rodgers <crodgers@texhoma.net>
>To: Boss Lady <crodgers@texhoma.net>
>Date: Friday, May 21, 1999 8:16 AM
>Subject: Fw: A really good story
>
>
>>
>>>>>He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work in
>this
>>>>>small Midwestern community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac.
>>But
>>>>>he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been
>>unemployed, and with winter raging on, the
>>>>>chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not very many people
>>had
>>>>a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had
>>>>>already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill.
>>>>>But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and
>>>>father.
>>>>>He was born here and he knew the country. He could go down this road
>>>blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not
>>working,
>>>>>which came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow
>flurries
>>>>>were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't
>>>see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim
>>light
>>>>of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her
>>Mercedes and got out. His
>>>>>Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the
>smile
>>>on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last
>hour
>>or
>>>>>so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and
>>>>>hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the
>>>>>cold.
>>>>>He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you.
>>He
>>>>>said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where
>>>it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan." Well, all she had was a flat
>>tire,
>>>but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car
>>looking
>>>>>for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon
>he
>>>>>was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands
>hurt.
>>>As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and
>began
>>to
>>>>>talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just
>>>>>passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.
>>>Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed
>>him.
>>>>Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined
>>all
>>>the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never
>>>>>thought twice about the money.  This was not a job to him. This was
>>>helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given
>him
>>a hand
>>>>in the past... He had lived his whole life that way, and it never
>occurred
>>to
>>>>>him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay
>>him
>>>>>back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give
>that
>>>>>person the assistance that they needed, and Bryan added
>>>>>"...and think of me."  He waited until she started her car and drove
>off.
>>>>It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for
>>>home, disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the lady
>>saw a
>>>>>small cafe.  She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off
>>>>>before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking
>>>>>restaurant.  Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was
>>>unfamiliar to her.  The cash register was like the telephone of an out of
>>work
>>>>actor-it didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean
>>towel to wipe
>>>>>her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet
>for
>>>>the whole day couldn't erase.  The lady noticed that the waitress was
>>nearly eight months pregnant, but
>>>>she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady
>>wondered
>>>>>how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then
>she
>>>>>remembered Bryan. After the lady, finished her meal, and the waitress
>>went
>>>>>to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out
>the
>>>>>door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered
>where
>>>>>the lady could be, then she noticed something written on the napkin
>under
>>>>>which was 4 $100 bills.  There were tears in her eyes when she read
>what
>>>>the lady wrote. It said: "You don't owe me anything, I have been
>>theretoo. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you
>>really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of
>>love
>>>end with you." Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and
>>>>people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That
>night
>>when
>>>she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the
>>money
>>>>>and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much
>she
>>>>>and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going
>to
>>>be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping
>next
>>to
>>>>>her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low,
>>>>>"Everything's gonna be all right; I love you, Bryan."
>>>>>Today, I sent you this story, now I am asking you to pass it on...Let
>the
>>>>>Light Shine. Don't put it under a basket. Please pass this on to a
>>friend.
>>>>>We are never prepared for what we expect.
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>>>
>>>
>>
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