Friday, August 26, 2011

Hurricane (Story)

Hurricane Irene brought this story to mind. Originally published here. I thought to share this with my readers today. I know they would not necessarily fly a helicopter in the hurricane; it's part of the story. Enjoy. :)
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One day there was a bad storm causing tremendous flooding.

The whole area had been ordered to evacuate, but one man stood his ground and said, "No, I have Faith that God will save me."


All his neighbors left.

A jeep pulled up to his house and the driver called out, "Hey, guy, it's time to leave."

The National Guards pounded on his door, trying to convince him to leave.

He adamantly refused to leave, claiming,
"No, I have Faith that God will save me."

The storm got worse, the water rose, lashing at the first floor windows.

A boat came by and the woman called out above the wind and rain, "HEY! You inside, you should have left earlier, but I can still get you to safety. It's time to go."

The man stayed inside, stubbornly refusing the assistance.

"No," he shouted back through a window, "I have Faith that God will save me."

The woman and boat moved on, searching for other survivors.

The waters continued to rise, eventually forcing the man up onto his roof where he clung to a chimney and prayed, "I still have faith in You, God. I know that You will save me."

A helicopter came.

The people within lowered a rope asking him to climb up.

He refused.


One of the rescuers lowered himself on another rope and tried to tie the rope around him.

He adamantly wrapped his arms around the chimney, hindering the efforts.

"No," he cried between clenched teeth, "I have Faith that God will save me."


With the storm's winds and rapidly rising water churning around his legs, the rescuer, at last, had to abandon the man to his fate and leave with the helicopter.

Soon after, the storm and the waters claimed the man on the roof -- drowning him.

The man found himself before the pearly gates of Heaven and stood puzzled before God.

"Why?" he asked. "Why? I had Faith that You would save me. Why did I drown when I had such Faith in You?"


God looked down at the man and shook His head sadly. "I sent you a jeep, a boat and a helicopter. What more did you want?"
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There are times when we expect God will send help in ways WE want. We seem to tell God how to save us, how to help us, how to behave.

When we do that, often we fail to see God working through others.

-ESA

Business Emergency Preparedness - Irene

As we prepare for the possibility of Hurricane Irene, I issued the notice below to all the company employees where I work. I wanted to share this with my readers in case it helps them prepare for this Hurricane or a similar emergency in the future.

My prayers are with all who are in the Hurricane's Path; plan, prepare and be safe everyone!

- ESA

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Good morning, Employees,
Due to the possibility of a Hurricane in the area of our corporate office, please be aware of the following procedures to minimize business interruptions.
  • Evacuation: Considering elevation and proximity of the offices to the river, there is a remote possibility that the offices will be in an area of evacuation. In that unlikely event, no employee will be permitted access to the offices.
o We require that all employee phones be forwarded to cell phones by the end of the day today, Friday August 26th. We will notify employees via phone if the offices are closed.
o We require all employees back up their computers by the end of the day.
o We require that all employees who have laptops bring them home, leaving the backup drives in the office fireproof safe.
o We request that all paperwork and other business items that may be needed for the next week be taken home by the employees today.
o We will mail out all checks due as payables Friday afternoon in the mail drop-box for Saturday pickup.
o We do not believe that our second-floor offices will see any water damage if there is local flooding, thus we do not need to take further precautions.
  • Power Outage / Extended Power Outage: If the possible event of extended power outage, we require all key employees to take the additional necessary steps. Please keep in mind, depending on the hurricane’s severity, power outages could last up to a full business week. Cell / mobile phone signals will cease after 6-8 hours of continued power outage, due to power failures at the tower – regardless of the charge in your mobile device. Internet service will not be available if your home router does not have power; back-up / surge batteries only last a few hours. Further, if your local internet servers (located off your property) do not have power over an extended period, internet service for the area will be disrupted.
o By no later than Saturday, August 27th, we require that all key employees post an auto-response message notifying the possibility that we may not have access to e-mail. Given our remote webhosting provider’s capabilities, our new messages will be kept online until we can sync to them via laptop or mobile device. We can remove the auto-response message once the hurricane is past, our local areas has continuous power and the ISP service is functioning.
o Have a corded phone in either your home or to take with you to a location at which you will be located. When a power outage occurs in your local area, use the initial battery backup to the mobile phone system to forward your phone to the landline with the corded phone. You can remove that forward once you confirm that continuous power is returned to your area and the local cell phone towers are functioning. In the event that the landline phone service (which is powered with its own lines) does not function at your location for an extended period, please consider the possibility of a hotel or other location which has phone service available.
o Conserve the battery of your cell phone, laptop and other mobile devices. We strongly recommend, during a power outage, to use the devices for key business and emergency calls only. We also recommend you shut down any devices when you are not using them. We strongly recommend keeping all mobile devices plugged in, whenever possible, until the hurricane arrives to ensure maximum battery charge.
o Have a battery-powered radio to listen to local news. This will serve in the event you need to evacuate your area, as well as inform you after the storm to what areas of the state have power. In the event that you do not have one (or if the batteries fail), remember you can also use the one in your automobile.
o Bring with you the power supply / cords for your cell phones, laptops and mobile devices. In the event of extended power outages, listen to the radio for in-state locations with power. If possible, you can travel to those locations to use your devices there, to provide power, local mobile service and internet connection. Some suggestions include libraries, McDonalds, Starbucks and other locations with public wi-fi spots.
We sincerely hope and pray we will not experience either of these situations this weekend or the coming week, but we sincerely appreciate everyone’s preparations to ensure no significant interruptions to the business.
Thank you.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Judge Not

This post is essentially a lengthy response with which Twitter would be a poor medium. Forgoing my typical rhymes, I will speak plainly here.

"Judge NOT, lest you be judged."

There are many who advocate that to be a good Christian, or even a good person, one not only has the right to judge another, but has a sworn duty to do so, sometimes with a vengeance. I tweet against judging others, but here I will say why.

I believe we are called to Love each other, and to Forgive - not condemn - our brothers and sisters, essentially all of humanity. I agree that we should learn concepts of right/good actions and wrong (irresponsible, greedy, self-centered) actions. We can assess a situation without condemning a person.

When we judge, we place ourselves at a higher ground than the person whom we judge; we help feed our own ego in doing so. When we judge, we have in mind that we are better, wiser, even "holier" than another. Yet, we are all still very human and do NOT have knowledge and complete understanding of every situation - including precursory events, minute details, thoughts, feelings, the "big picture", and where the events lead to in the future. We are human, not God. Thus Judgment should be reserved for God alone.

Further, when we judge another, we hold up what we find wrong/offensive/evil, and our mind sees that instead of the person whom we have judged. If we hold this "sin" in mind when our thoughts are of that person, did we truly Forgive them? Is this the type of "Forgiveness" we seek for our own mistakes in this life?

Does "not judging" mean our hands are tied or we face the world with indifference? Certainly not! We do not judge the person, but we can assess an action or event. If we look at the event separate from the person, we can see what can be done. There is potential to do great good as well as great evil within every person. Our primary responsibility is to see the potential to do great good and see what we CAN do to enable that good to be accomplished, regardless of the past. That is a foundation for Forgiveness.

When we judge, we push the PERSON away from us, we condemn the person, not just the act. If we push the person away, there is no real way we can see the means to open paths to positive actions. We have shut the door.

We are called to be witnesses, not judges.

Do we see the good deep inside
Even when behavior helps it hide?
Do we open a path to a better day?
Or condemn & move on our way?

Be a witness to the good in another;
You will see your sister or brother.

- ESA

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Greatest Treasure in the World (Story)

(Note to readers: For those who are sensitive to such, there is foul language in the story below, used where appropriate to the characters and setting of the story.)

* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *

T
here once was a man who had much in this world. He was quite intelligent, held several advanced degrees and lived a life of fun and luxury. Despite all this, he cared little about others in this world. He would share his gripes about how much he paid in taxes to support "the lazy slobs who should go out and get a job." He would look the other way whenever his gaze happened upon a homeless or poor person. He had his personal body guards keep away everyone he did not want in his company, whether they were people asking for a hands out for some pointless charity or a disgruntled employee - soon to be ex-employee.

One day, this man met a stranger who would take his lif
e in a whole new direction. The stranger somehow avoided the body guards and approached the man, asking him - quite seriously - "What would you give to receive the greatest treasure in the world?"

Quite perplexed, the man was not quite sure how to respond. He had everything he could possibly want: beautiful women, a fine house, a good job, a huge income, a brilliant mind, even a fit body. But that night left him awake and restless in the large comfortable bed. "What is the greatest treasure in the world?" he asked himself. Silence answered.

The next day, the stranger approached him again and asked for his answer. "Fine," answered the man with a swagger. "I'm game. What is the greatest treasure in the world, and what do I need to give you to get it?"

"The price is so small that in the end you will not even notice it. I will not tell you what this treasure is, for it defies description. But once you receive it, you will not want anything else of this world."

At once, the man became skeptical
. "I don't agree to any deal with undisclosed terms," he snapped.

The stranger opened his hands wide and shrugged. "I can only say you will not loose anything that you will desire to
keep in the end."

The man's eyebrow rose, and then his brow lowered into a scowl. He did not know what to say and for a long moment he just glared at the stranger.

The stranger met his eyes, calmly and confidently. There was also a touch of sad compassion, as though he was aware of something the man wasn't. How could that be? Surely this st
ranger wasn't that intelligent.

"Deal!" the man practically shouted, extending his hand to shake the stranger's. The word seemed to leap of its own volition, in defiance of the stranger's gaze. Shaking hands, the man wondered to what he just agreed.

"It will begin tomorrow." The stranger explained as he prepared to walk away.

"WHAT will?"

"Your acquisition of the greatest treasure," the stranger called over his shoulder with a smile. The door swung silent behind him with finality.


* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, the stock market crashed. Half the man's fortune was gone. He left the office early and went home to drink himself to numbness. His manservant was handing him the gin & tonic over ice in a crystal glass when his secretary knocked on the ornate oak door and poked his head into the room. "Sir, there is an urgent call I need you to take."

The man groaned and asked, "What is it?"

"Sir... there's been an incident at the company."


"WHAT!?!?"

"An explosion, sir, but don't worry, we got everyone out befo
re the fire spread."

"...FIRE???" The man leapt to his feet, spilling half the glass' contents down the front of his expensive custom-tailored suit.

"Uhm... err... yes, sir." The secretary pulled most of his slim body back behind the protection of the door, extending the cell phone toward the man sheepishly.

"DAMN! How bad? Oh, hell! Give me that damn phone!" He yanked the phone and listened. His face went from wrathful red to death-like pallor in moments. "Shit!" he muttered, sinking into a studded leather chair. "At least we have insurance for the--" There was a pause, and then he roared into the cell phone, "What the hell do you mean they filed for bankruptcy. They're an insurance company! They can't do that, can they???" Color bloomed in his cheeks as he listened a minute more then shouted, "What the hell are you doing wasting time??? We have attorneys to straighten all this out. Get them on the horn and get it done!" He slammed his thumb on the end-call button and sat there gripping the phone in his red-knuckled hand.

Then he turned his attention back to his secretary. "Get my accountants on the secure line; I'll take it in my office here. Let's see what I have left."

* * * * * * * * * *

In the months that ensued, a full ninety-eight percent of his
fortune had slipped away. The business folded; his property either had to be sold off or somehow fell to misfortune. The garage full of high-end cars all strangely stopped running no matter what his mechanics did. That was when he had mechanics; he had to let them and all of his staff go, even his prized secretary. His houses and belongings were claimed in the bankruptcy, with surprisingly no insurance to buffer him from that. All the insurance companies seemed to collapse following the crash of the market. Banks were calling back their unsecured loans at record speeds, and he had a lot of outstanding loans. Past due on his quarterly taxes, the government had frozen his remaining assets. He was penniless.

He felt out of place in the designer shirt and slacks as he slid out of his new car - a pre-owned nondescript mid-sized sedan - and stood before the house. The house's exterior was in sad disrepair; filthy siding and wooden beams desperately in need of paint, curled like flower pedals toward the sun that bleached them dry and split. The windows were grimy and chunks of mortar were missing from around the sashes. It would take a good chunk of money to fix this place properly. But the two-story dwelling was not his concern. He only rented a two-room unit in the lower back part of the building. He slowly lumbered toward his new home with the key in hand.

* * * * * * * * * *

The man slammed his fists on either
side of the keyboard in frustration. Nothing! Not one damn job! He was qualified for hundreds of high-paying positions, but no one would hire him. Somehow all his friends disappeared as fast as his money. None returned his calls. No business would consider his candidacy; they all told him he was "overqualified". Those were the ones who at least had the decency to respond to him at all. Most of the time, he never heard back from any of his applications. Even the headhunters stopped calling after a while.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, ignoring its protesting creak. It was worn and wobbly, and the desk's wood veneer was chipped at the edges and peeling back from the particle board. Neither the furnishings nor the outdated - and extremely slow - computer before him were of any concern to him. These belonged to the local library, one of the few remaining open in the state. He wondered how many other people depended on similar access to the internet because they could not afford a home computer or internet access.

The thought didn't last long; he had to find a job fast. The cash he had on hand when his assets were frozen and property seized was quickly running out. He thought he was being frugal, but he just couldn't see how people could live on so little. He recently had to give up meat in his diet. Fresh fruits and vegetables were no longer an option two months ago. The prices at the supermarket continued to rise and sales tax jumped to cover the state deficit; he was feeling the pinch on both ends.

The women at the social services center had very little sympathy for his riches-to-rags story - VERY little. He was denied everything he thought his hard-earned money paid for: the food stamps, unemployment, pre-paid cell phones. They told him he had to get a job and suggested - of ALL things - the local 'Mart. The 'Mart! Here he was, a CEO of a multi-billion dollar company a little over a year ago and they want him to be a door greeter, a cashier, or worse - a stock clerk! That's what the poor brainless uneducated saps of society did, he thought to himself.

But the little money he had was running out fast, he'd have to swallow his pride and take a job where he could find
one...

* * * * * * * * * *

The man scowled, jabbed the keys before him, and inquired, "Do you want fries with that?" It had taken another month before he started his job search in what he considered the dregs of the job market. The 'Mart wouldn't even consider his application. The only place that would hire an overqualified but flat-broke guy in his mid-fifties was a fast-food establishment in a very bad part of town. The location had been robbed three times; it was only his second day. It was remarkable how complicated the whole process was in taking an order, entering it correctly, remembering which key on which unit to press at the right time and getting it done in under 90-seconds.

The horn blared loudly at his window and he jumped slightly. He waved the "one more moment" gesture to the irritated driver waiting for his meal as he took the last of the order via the antediluvian headset that crackled non-stop in his ear, slurring every word and swallowing half of them. "Can you please repeat your order, slower this time?" An angry squawk was his answer, followed almost immediately by the long blaring horn outside the window.

"Thank you," he muttered into the headset and jabbed the last of the order into the system. Then he looked at the screen for the current order: one small soda, two medium
fries, two deluxe burgers and a kids meal. He jammed a wax-coated paper cup into the beverage machine and punched the button above. With a semi-run to the fries bin, he discovered they were out of fries. The timers read that the next batch would not be ready for two more minutes. The man bit back a curse - the Manager already threatened to fire him for that - and ran over to the next counter to grab the pre-made burgers and assemble the kids meal. He reached into the bin and discovered the toys for boys were all gone. He grabbed one from the girl's collection; maybe the kid won't notice. He tossed the burgers into a bag and headed back to the window, slipping on the sticky puddle now at his station. Grabbing hold of the counter, the man glanced up to notice he selected the "large" button to fill the small cup; it overflowed the counter and covered the front of the machine as well as the floor.

Another angry horn sounded, echoed by the one outside the window. Th
e man practically THREW the bag at the waiting customer. He snapped a lid on the sticky cup and passed that along as well, valiantly trying to ignore the look of disgust on the driver's face when he grabbed the the cup. "Hey! Moron!" the passenger called out, leaning over to glare at him. "Where's our fries!?!" Remembering, he spun around and tracked the sticky mess across the floor. He grabbed an almost-done batch of fries from the deep-frier and dumped them into the bin. He liberally poured the salt over the steaming mess and halfheartedly tossed the fries once with the scooper before shoveling it into the pre-sized cardboard sheaths. Tossing those in a bag, he approached the window only to be greeted with black looks from driver and passenger as well as the wailing of a disappointed child in the back seat. "This is a GIRL's toy," the driver snapped as he handed back the opened item. "We want a boy's toy."

"I'm sorry, sir, we're all out of those."

"Well, then, I want a refund!"


"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't -"

"Then get me the Manager, NOW!" he yelled leaning on the horn for emphasis. This set up a trio of other horns from the cars still waiting behind him.


The man scrambled to get the Manager. A look of horror followed by disgust was shot his way when the Manager saw his workstation. The Manager then smiled and leaned out the window to speak with the driver. "So sorry, sir, what is the problem? ... I see... That long? ... No, you are right, that is not how we do things here, sir... Yes, sir... I can refund your child's meal, sir..." He spun around and glared at the man as he keyed open the register and counted out the money. Then he handed it to the customer with a bright smile. "Here you are, sir. Again, I am sorry for any inconvenience. Please accept our apologies and have a nice day." When the Manager turned around, he eyed the man menacingly and snarled, "Clean up this damned mess and get your ass to my office in five minutes or you will never work another day ANYwhere in town. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, the Manager called out, "George! You're promoted to Cashier, get over here and take care of the next car, will you?"

* * * * * * * * * *

The man had been demoted to mopping, cleaning, filling the machines and other prep-work. They had made it very clear he was lucky to be washing wilted heads of lettuce and slicing tomatoes - extra thin. He realized with growing dread he was lucky to have a job at all. He had fired many an employee for less cause, many of them he had never met face-to-face. His new position finally broke through his pride and he found - at last - some sense of humility.

Days rolled by, becoming weeks, then months. In time he worked his way back to Cashier with
more confidence and understanding of the system. He also began to see the customers in a whole new light. There were regulars that lived nearby and he would often see them on the sidewalks, in the supermarket, and elsewhere. Sometimes he would take his break out on their side of the counter, sharing a meal and conversation. It felt good.

His earnings were still meager and he realized fast-food wasn't healthy, even if they took pity on him and let him bring some leftovers home at the end of the night. So he started to shop from the old-food racks in the back of the supermarket. If you could stomach cutting off the moldy parts, it wasn't too bad. Some of his new friends introduced him to coupons. He was moved to tears one afternoon, when he realized how much a mere $5.00 savings meant to him.

One night, while bringing the garbage out to the dumpster, he saw a pair of homeless people rummaging through the bags, eating bits of burger that had someone's teethmarks and picking ketchup-stained napkins from the french fries before shoving them into their mouths with great joy. They looked up at his approach and he realized with anguish they were both under the age of 18, possibly runaways.


At home, lying on the slowly-deflating air-mattress under a couple of rough, thin blankets, the man realized he was actually very grateful for all that he currently had: a roof over
his head, electricity to light his humble two-room unit, heat in the winter, running water for the shower, sink and toilet, a refrigerator and some income to help keep a meager stock of food.

For the first time in a very long time, he got to his knees and he prayed, tears rollin
g down his cheeks.

The first lesson.

* * * * * * * * * *

Months continued to roll by. The man was promoted to Assistant Manager, and he actually had some pride in his work. There was a lot of turnover at this particular fast-food place; the continuous string of robberies did not help. He seemed to be constantly training new recruits and they seemed to blunder much of the job. Remembering his first days, though, he patiently worked with them, giving them several chances to try again. He had to have even more patience for the customers. Many were rude, demanding, always in a hurry and very belittling toward him and his staff - those that weren't outright holding the Cashier up at gun-point. They would have gotten security cameras long ago, but with the robberies, they just barely met their bills; there was no extra for security.

He had even gotten the employees trained to put rejected or unsold food into separate trash bags. These they would set aside for the growing number of homeless that hungrily awaited the feast at the back door each night. If the health department discovered this, they may find a reason to shut down the place. So they had to trust that their "back door customers" would keep this secret. But having been hungry himself, the man could not waste food if he knew someone could use it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Late that fall, the hurricane came in. Rain fell in buckets as the winds howled, sending the sheets of water rattling against the windows. The man was working the counter, having sent the employees home before the height of the storm hit. The Manager did not want to close up completely, so the two of them were the only ones working that shift. The place was mostly empty.

Rotating red and blue lights outside the large-paned windows announced the arrival of a police car. The officer rushed in with a
drenched uniform and dripping cap. Standing at the door, he shouted into the building, "Everyone needs to get out of here immediately and head to high grounds. We're evacuating the area!"

"What?" shouted from the manager from beside the sizzling grills.


"Mandatory evac! Now! The dikes are about to give way! You've got 15 minutes or less to reach high grounds!" With that, the officer raced back outside and leapt into his running car. The silence followed a moment as everyone mutely watched him leave, then leapt into action. The customers at the tables grabbed their food and drinks and bolted for the door. The man and Manager quickly shut off the grills, friers and gas. When the man was ready to close out the registers the Manager yelled, "No time, we've just got to chance it. I've locked the back door. Let's lock up the front and go!"

"I've got to get my stuff at home, first," the man declared as he hesitated mid-step. I live a block from here and its even l
ower ground..."

The Manager pulled on his jacket and handed the man his, "It's too late, we need to go now. C'mon, I'll drive."

Shaken, the man let himself be led out, automatically shutting off the lights on the way out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Three days later, they were allowed back into the area. The flood covered everything in stinking brown mud. At the restaurant, much of the equipment would need to be replaced. One of the glass doors was broken open and the registers were empty; one was missing completely. Of his two-room unit, everything was still under two inches of water. Bedding, blankets, clothing, towels - all muck covered.

The man wandered numbly outside to his car, sitting muck-glazed to the windows, and wept.

Then they arrived. Caravans of people came with food, toiletries, tents, blankets, water - even portable washers to help launder what could be saved. He found himself on his cot at the shelter wearing a clean set of clothes for the first time in days. The shower felt like the best shower he had ever taken. Who knew that a shower would feel so good. The clothes were donations and somewhat worn, but even the stain down the front of the shirt didn't seem to bother him as it would have... wow, that seemed a lifetime ago.

He spent his first days working with the staff and volunteers to clean up the restaurant. Then they started helping the neighbors - both businesses and residents up and down the block. As the week progressed, more and more volunteers arrived to help clear away the muck, mud and pools of water. Then the real work began. Walls needed to be stripped down, and rebuilt, much needed to be repaired or outright replaced, carpets were ripped up and what could be was scrubbed down. It was long, hard days.

Nights were spent at the shelter with many other people from his neighborhood. The man was glad he had befriended several of them before now. It made working beside them easier, and the nights' rest in the school auditorium less awkward. In a way, it was part block-party / part indoor camp-out with the neighbors, even if half of them snored like a grizzly bear and there were long lines at the restrooms and locker showers.

One evening, came a big treat - someone had found a usable deck of cards high on a shelf. The owner said they could have them. The cards were worn around the edges and otherwise the typical deck of cards from the dollar store. But the man held them for a long moment, so full of gratitude for this simple thing he didn't know what to say. Then he looked up at the neighbor who passed them to him
and he was far more grateful for that woman and all who had come to help his neighborhood following the devastation. Tears ran down his face as he silently hugged her.

The second lesson.

* * * * * * * * * *

Years came and went. Despite the help that rushed in immediately following the storm, news crews and out-of-the-area volunteers soon disappeared. The neighborhood slowly struggled to its feet. It was still a dangerous, blighted part of town; the fast-food establishment was still robbed on a regular basis. Things took a long time to build and some people never came back, leaving rotting mud-caked homes behind as a further eyesore in the neighborhood.

No one knows how or where it started, but the disease struck this particular neighborhood hard and fast. The Manager was the first to fall ill at the restaurant, then the man, too, became very ill.

Having no
health insurance, the man went to the nearby clinic - an hour and a half drive away. Fever burned his brow and he could not stop retching. If only the spots would stop dancing before his eyes; he needed them to drive home again. When he stumbled through the doors, he found a quarter of his neighborhood in the clinic's waiting room - men, women and children. All without insurance, all very sick; the single restroom was already clogged. He laughed out loud remembering how once he was so vocal against people who didn't have health care and depended on clinics like these. He didn't remember much beyond that.

He woke up two days later in a hospital bed; where that hospital was, he had no clue. The room was quarantined and contained three other beds in the room originally meant to hold two, all occupied. A young woman approached him wearing a fully encapsulated suit. She took his name and information, what he could croak out through parched lips, before identifying herself from the CDC. She started to tell him what was going on, but the ringing in his ears intensified and the room became hazy. His body ached horribly and burned with fever, he slid blissfully back into unconsciousness.

".... I think he's starting to come around. That's it. Open your eyes, if you can. Yes, I know it hurts. You've been very sick... Can you look over toward the light? I want to see your eyes... ..." The person was dressed in a bio-hazard suit; a bright flashlight was waving back and forth in front of his eyes. He wanted to tell them to stop. He wanted to tell them it hurt. That everything hurt. So much. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move his eyes. His eyes... They rolled up into his head and his lids dropped automatically. Then his limbs started to tremble uncontrollably. In a few moments the seizure passed, but then another ache continued to grow, in his chest and radiating down his right arm.

"We're loosing him too. Just like all the others," came another voice. "We still don't know what it is!" The pain intensified; breathing became difficult, then it seemed to suddenly stop.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something felt as though it detached. He felt himself floating, pain slipping past him like a bad memory. In his ears a monitor was clamoring, but that was not his concern now. He didn't own the monitor. It belonged to someone else...

In a dream-like way, he slowly opened his eyes. The people in the room were applying needles and paddles to some old withered guy on the bed. It looks like he's going to-- Good God! That was HIM!

"I can't be dead!" He looked around the room in a panic. The free-floating feeling continued unabated and the pain was completely gone. In fact, all physical sensation was completely gone. He panicked a moment more. Then recalled something. Something wasn't quite right. "Wasn't there supposed to be a bright light or something?" He looked around the room more carefully. "Oh, no! Where's the light? There's supposed to be a light! Loved ones to meet me and take me to Heaven? That kind of stuff. WHERE IS IT???"

In a flash, he recalled all of his life. Not just the recent years, but the long years when he had wealth and luxury far beyond what he could see having now. He recalled how he treated people, how cruel he had been. It seemed so very long ago, but that WAS him. Now he had come to life's end and he never once apologized. "DEAR GOD!" he cried out with an anguished soul. "I am so sorry! So very sorry for all that I did! All that I was! I was blessed with riches beyond measure and I did nothing to help those in need. Now I'm one of them and I realize my mistakes. PLEASE! Please! Don't let me die now!!!"

That was when he noticed the stranger, the very stranger whom he struck a deal with all those years ago.

"Am I dead? Is this the end? Please! I want to live some more. I really haven't finished all that I planned to do. I want to help the neighborhood come back. I want to help all those employees that depend on us. Please... please..." The man peeled his eyes away from the stranger and cast his eyes heavenward, "Oh, dear God, PLEASE help me. I need You."

The third lesson.

The stranger smiled warmly at him and seemed very pleased. "Having learned the lessons you have passed through. You are now ready to receive the greatest treasure in this world."

The man paused, thinking, using every scrap of his intelligence, reviewing all that had happened since their last meeting. Tears welled up in his eyes. "What is it? Life?"

The stranger smiled more broadly, "Close. That is a great treasure, but there is one greater and it is offered to all people." He lightly touched the man in the chest and some unknown tightness, some unrecognized grief, a burden beyond words was lifted from his inner being. "In this world, it is known as Forgiveness. But..." the stranger held up a finger before the man's eyes, "there is one more thing you must do to earn it completely."

"What?" the man whispered in frightened hesitation.

"You must share it with all you meet. Forgive them, and you will retain your Forgiveness too."

A heartbeat later, the man's body drew a ragged breath. He was once more among the living, and his body was rapidly stabilizing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two weeks later, he was released from the hospital. He had a whopper of a hospital bill to face - three times what it would have cost the insurance company, if he had health insurance. But that was a worry for another day.

The CDC was able to use his blood samples to isolate the virus and produce an anti-viral serum. Of course, the rich who funded the production would get the first doses, then those with insurance would receive theirs, and lastly the poor with whom he worked and lived.

The neighborhood would be emptier, many had lost the battle against this foe. But some remained; some returned. There was a call to rebuild, and the man's heart sang to a new rhythm. He carried within the greatest treasure in the world. The rest could be dealt with in time.

* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *

- ESA

Different Set of Eyes

Recently a friend caused me some heartache. There are days when he is open, friendly and caring; other times when he is quite cold and callous. I know the later times are when his own suffering causes him to snap and be bitter, even toward those he considers friends. I will admit, though, sometimes it cuts me pretty deeply. I tell myself, "It's just the pain talking. Ignore it." But it's hard to ignore my pain, feeling that I am being treated badly - even worthless.

I have also realized there are times where I am baited into an argument, sometimes over the stupidest things! These I believe are ways in which, subconsciously, part of him is trying to prove that the frustration and anger he harbors toward me is justified. In turn, I become frustrated and angry at him.

There have been nights I sat awake, trying to will myself to forgive. Really forgive, not just say, "I forgive you" and then run through my mind all the times he hurt me. More, my mind would go over those silly arguments in minute detail trying to prove that I was right and he was wrong. This, after all, was just MY ego getting in the way and preventing me from truly forgiving him. I need to completely let it go and open my heart to love, not hate or even the simple human grumbling we tend to do about people that hurt us.

On one of these nights, I finally realized why he lashes out when he's in pain. It is part of his defense system, to project the pain, frustration and anger outward. I was just an easy target for this to be projected upon. He would then easily become frustrated and angry at me, maybe even see me as someone that is hurting him, when my own eyes see myself as the victim. The saying "hurting people hurt others" rings true.


Whenever we push another away, we hurt ourselves. BUT when we become aware of what is happening, we have the responsibility. I needed see and respond only to that caring person inside, not the person that is nasty to me.

I am trying a new way to interact with this person. I listen to him, but try not to let my own ego have the spotlight and speak of myself or my life. He needs an ear, not a prattling voice. I help him in ways that I can, but do not ask for the same in return. When his life is better, I am sure he will do he same.

When the nastiness rises to the surface, I smile and reply politely. If it continues, I walk quietly away. I will no longer be caught up in pointless arguments that will only increase his frustration and anger. I will no longer acknowledge the nasty person, but try to strive to always see the caring person that is currently buried under his own pain.

After nearly a month, I have found myself more at peace within myself. I have had far less pointless arguments and no longer spend hours trying to get the "I was the one who was right" debate silenced in my mind. There is less stress and more healing in my life.

I continue move forward on this path
Looking through a different set of eyes

- ESA

Tale of Two Brides (Story)

Once upon a time, there was a bride who was loved by many. She knew her fiancé, who was away for a long time, would be returning soon. She was determined to be ready for his return, no matter what. She had her life in order; her eyes were always scanning the horizon for a first sight of him.

Her friends, tried to do the same, to be ready for the big wedding. But the wait was long, and they found themselves drawn away to other things that needed their attention.
The bride scoffed as one-by-one, they departed to raise their children, tend to their work, and help others in their community. "Let the others tend to the matters in this world," she said bitterly to herself, "I know who I am and where my place is. I will sit and wait."

Set in her determination, the bride never strayed from her chosen path; she kept herself ready and would not move an inch as she waited. This was her sole purpose: to wait for his return.

When the day came, the bride was overjoyed.
She gathered her things, ready to be swept up into his arms and taken away from this wretched world. This was what she was waiting for all this time.

When her friends heard that the bride's fianc
é returned, they tried to gather to her side, but she turned them away - each and every one. "You did not wait with me in my vigilance. You strayed from my side while I waited alone." She turned her back on them, "I will have nothing to do with you now."
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Once upon a time, there was a bride who was loved by many. She knew her fiancé, who was away for a long time, would be returning soon. She was determined to be ready for his return, no matter what. She had her life in order; her eyes were always scanning the horizon for a first sight of him.

Her friends, tried to do the same, to be ready for the big wedding. But the wait was long, and they found themselves drawn away to other things that needed their attention.


In her heart, the bride knew that things still needed to be done in this world while they waited. She wanted them at her side, ready for her fiancé's return. So she inquired of her friends what was drawing them away.


Those who would depart to raise their children, she replied, "Are they not part of my family too, as I love you like sisters and brothers? I will help with your families; this way we can take turns watching the horizon and all of us will be ready his return together."




To those who needed to tend to their work, she proposed, "Let us all work together. Is it not true that when we work together as one, we accomplish far more than the sum of our individual efforts? When we are separate, we are alone; this is not what we are called to be. While we work side-by-side, we can take turns watching the horizon. When my fianc
é arrives, the work will be done and we will all be ready."



To those who wanted to help others in the community, she said, "Let us go out together to those in need. Is it right that some should share in joy while others suffer while we can yet do something about it? If we do this together, there will be more to share in the feast when my fianc
é returns. What joy will be his when he sees all the people ready to celebrate. I will leave a note for my fiancé; he will know just where to find me."



While the young bride did her best to make sure all were ready and within calling distance when her fiancé returned, she saw that some still had wandered away, alone or in small groups, and were not ready on the day of her fiancé's return. When her fiancé arrived, he found her working among the people, helping them every way she could, her heart loving them as brothers and sisters. His joy was hers when he saw the vast numbers of people who were ready to celebrate the wedding feast.


But then he caught sight of those in the far distance and he asked his bride, "What shall we do with those who did not wait for this day?" Tears welled in her eyes and she pleaded, "I know they did not stay within calling distance, but they are still loved as sisters and brothers. I know we cannot wait, but should they see us depart and follow, please do not bar their way."


When the happy couple departed, they were followed by a joyous celebration of many who sang the song of Love United after a long period apart. Hearing the song rising on the wind, those in the distance looked up and saw them depart. They immediately regretted what they had done and followed them, calling... pleading...
The bride heard their desperate calls and turned around to face them. With a smile and loving forgiveness welling in her heart, she held out her hands to welcome them.
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Which is the bride that holds Love in her heart?
Which is the bride whom the bridegroom calls from the start?
Which bride will you be when this world falls apart?


- ESA