[SOC] Time

[Dennis]

Thanks Ian, I needed that...
Dennis - VE3VG


----- Original Message -----
From: "Ian C. Purdie" <ianpurdie@integritynet.com.au>
To: "Sidebar" <Sidebar@vk2tips.com>; "SOC" <soc@mailman.qth.net>
Sent: Thursday, July 10, 2003 5:52 AM
Subject: [SOC] Time


> 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." - Unknown
>
>
> Have a great day. Oh, and thank you for your time. : )
>
> _______________________________________________
> SOC mailing list
> SOC@mailman.qth.net
> http://mailman.qth.net/mailman/listinfo/soc
>