"If it's not fun, why do it?"

Posts tagged ‘Gifts’

Pain free

Time Heals Most

I don’t think more reps can help this one.

I want a pain free day. No itches, no strains, no numbness, no aches, no headaches, no bumps, no tingles nor twinges. What an original thought!

I slept funny a few weeks ago and got a “crink” in my neck. It really put a crink in my life; it hurt to move, sit, stand, lie, and worse-type! I felt like such a whiner, but I couldn’t help it.The pain distracted me from my normal enjoyment of simple things like the breezes coming through the open windows and seeing the leaves change color. Pain tossed a thick veil over my sunny disposition and left a miserable, soggy grouch.

Other people get banged up and carry on normally it seems. Me, I get a paper cut and I’m in agony. For days. My boo boos grow boo boos and I’m the only one who can kiss them better. Poor me-bring out the sappy violin music.

I’m sure it’s a test from Above. I grew the discipline to say “rats” instead of something stronger. That alone is a gift.

Thankfully miracles do happen and angels in the form of physical therapists guide me to relief. Only compassionate people can be PTs. Yeah it hurts, they affirm, but we’re going to get you moving. Time – and doing plenty of reps – heals all… or most.

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Random Act of Bagels

What’s inside the box? What random act of kindness could be inside?

My box once held two bagels. I looked forward to enjoying their chewy goodness toasted with cheese melted on each half.  I had been at a party where they served a nice meal. At the end guests were asked to take the extra food home. I helped myself to the bagels, wrapping them in the time-honored fashion: in a napkin. I slipped them into my bag and boarded the subway home.

The bagels spoke to me from inside my bag. I knew exactly where the bread knife rested at home and saw myself slicing them into halves on my much-scored wooden cutting board. I heard the click of the toaster’s lever as I lowered them down in the slots, adjusting the browning knob to the perfect doneness. Ouch!  the hot bagel seared my fingertips as I pulled it from the toaster and popped the halves onto a microwaveable glass plate. Now, which cheese? Yellow cheddar or white Muenster? The cheddar won so the bagel was paved with small slices around the center hole.

My fingers slid over the microwave’s time controls. Too short and the cheese would be solid. Too long and it would be a burning puddle on the plate. How long would be just right? My fingers knew the right setting. Then the microwave buzzed and I opened the door. The gooey cheese puddled perfectly on the platter and steam curled from the surface. All I needed to do was take a bite….

I was savoring the anticipation of my cheesy treat when I heard a voice in the aisle. “Sorry to bother you but I’m homeless and haven’t eaten. If you can spare any change for food I’d appreciate it.” A scruffy-looking man in a soiled army-green coat had entered the car. “God bless,” he intoned as he walked down the aisle with his hat outstretched. He repeated his homeless plea again, humbly.

I knew what I had to do. I waited until he approached my seat then withdrew the bagels in their festive napkin. “Please enjoy this,” I said handing him the bagels. What was the dream of a cheesy bite in the face of a man who had nothing to eat. “God bless you,” he said looking into my eyes.

At that moment, providing a “box of kindness” to this unfortunate man tasted better to me than the most meltingly delicious cheesy snack I could ever prepare.

Some random act of bagels had fed my soul and nourished another, too.

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