It seems like a really long time since I posted a tear jerker, lets remedy
that right now.
I know you have probably read this before, so had I, read it again I
guarantee it will clear your sinus' and make you feel good.
Traveling alone.
Right before the jetway door closed, I scrambled aboard the plane going from LA
to Chicago, lugging my laptop and overstuffed briefcase. It was the first leg of
an important business trip a few weeks before Christmas, and I was running late.
I had a ton of work to catch up on. Half wishing, half praying I muttered, "Please
God, do me a favor; let there be an empty seat next to mine, I don't need any
distractions."
I was on the aisle in a two seat row. Across sat a businesswoman with her nose
buried in a newspaper. No problem. But in the seat beside mine, next to the
window, was a young boy wearing a big red tag around his neck:
"Minor -- Traveling Unattended."
The kid sat perfectly still, hands in his lap, eyes straight ahead. He'd probably
been told never to talk to strangers. "Good," I thought.
Then the flight attendant came by. "Michael, I have to sit down because we're about to take off," she said to the little boy. "This nice man will answer any of your questions, okay?"
Did I have a choice? I offered my hand, and Michael shook it twice, straight up and down.
"Hi, I'm Jerry," I said. "You must be about seven years old.
"I'll bet you don't have any kids," he responded.
"Why do you think that? Sure I do." I took out my wallet to show him pictures.
"Because I'm six."
"I was way off, huh?"
The captains' voice came over the speakers, "Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff."
Michael pulled his seat belt tighter and gripped the armrests as the jet engines roared.
I leaned over, "Right about now, I usually say a prayer. I asked God to keep the plane safe and to send angels to protect us."
"Amen," he said, then added, "But I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid because my mama's already in Heaven."
"I'm sorry." I said.
"Why are you sorry?" he asked, peering out the window as the plane lifted off.
"I'm sorry you don't have your mama here."
My briefcase jostled at my feet, reminding me of all the work I needed to do.
"Look at those boats down there!" Michael said as the plane banked over the Pacific. "Where are they going?"
"Just going sailing, having a good time. And there's probably a fishing boat full of guys like you and me."
"Doing what?" He asked.
"Just fishing, maybe for bass or tuna. Does your dad ever take you fishing?"
"I don't have a dad," Michael sadly responded.
Only six years old and he didn't have a dad, and his Mom had died, and here he was flying halfway across the country all by himself. The least I could do was make sure he had a good flight. With my foot I pushed my briefcase under my seat.
"Do they have a bathroom here?" he asked, squirming a little.
"Sure," I said, "Let me take you there."
I showed him how to work the "Occupied" sign, and what buttons to push on the sink, then he closed the door. When he emerged, he wore a wet shirt and a huge smile.
"That sink shoots water everywhere!"
The attendants smiled.
Michael got the VIP treatment from the crew during snack time. I took out my laptop and tried to work on a talk I had to give, but my mind kept going to Michael. I couldn't stop looking at the crumpled grocery bag on the floor by his seat. He'd told me that everything he owned was in that bag. Poor kid.
While Michael was getting a tour of the cockpit the flight attendant told me his grandmother would pick him up in Chicago. In the seat pocket a large manila envelope held all the paperwork regarding his custody. He came back explaining, "I got wings! I got cards! I got more peanuts. I saw the pilot and he said I could come back anytime!"
For a while he stared at the manila envelope.
"What are you thinking?" I asked Michael.
He didn't answer. He buried his face in his hands and started sobbing. It had been years since I'd heard a little one cry like that. My kids were grown -- still I don't think they'd ever cried so hard. I rubbed his back and wondered where the flight attendant was.
"What's the matter buddy?" I asked.
All I got were the muffled words, "I don't know my grandma. Mama didn't want her to come visit and see her sick. What if Grandma doesn't want me? Where will I go?"
"Michael, do you remember the Christmas story? Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus? Remember how they came to Bethlehem just before Jesus was born? It was late and cold, and they didn't have anywhere to stay, no family, no hotels, not even hospitals where babies could be born. Well, God was watching out for them. He found them a place to stay; a stable with animals."
"Wait, wait," Michael tugged on my sleeve.. "I know Jesus. I remember now." Then he closed his eyes, lifted his head and began to sing. His voice rang out with a strength that rocked his tiny frame. "Jeeesus looooves me--thiiiiiis I knowwwwwww. For the Biiiiiible tells meeeeee sooooo....."
Passengers turned or stood up to see the little boy who made the large sound. Michael didn't notice his audience. With his eyes shut tight and voice lifted high, he was in a good place.
"You've got a great voice," I told him when he was done.. "I've never heard anyone sing like that."
"Mama said God gave me good pipes just like my grandma's," he said. "My grandma loves to sing, she sings in her church choir."
"Well, I'll bet you can sing there, too. The two of you will be running that choir."
The seat belt sign came on as we approached O'Hare. The flight attendant came by and said, "We just have a few minutes now." But she told Michael that it was important that he put his seat belt on. People started stirring in their seats, like the kids before the final school bell. By the time the seat belt sign went off, passengers were rushing down the aisle. Michael and I stayed seated.
"Are you gonna go with me?" he asked.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, buddy!" I assured him.
Clutching his bag and the manila envelope in one hand, he grabbed my hand with the other. The two of us followed the flight attendant down the jetway. All the noises of the airport seemed to fill the corridor.
Michael stopped, slipping his hand from mine, he dropped to his knees. His mouth quivered. His eyes brimmed with tears.
"What's wrong Michael? I'll carry you if you want."
He opened his mouth and moved his lips, but it was as if his words were stuck in his throat. When I knelt next to him, he grabbed my neck. I felt his warm, wet face as he whispered in my ear, "I want my mama!"
I tried to stand, but Michael squeezed my neck even harder. Then I heard a rattle of footsteps on the corridor's metal floor.
"Is that you, baby?"
I couldn't see the woman behind me, but I heard the warmth in her voice.
"Oh baby," she cried. "Come here. Grandma loves you so much. I need a hug, baby. Let go of that nice man." She knelt beside Michael and me.
Michael's grandma stroked his arm. I smelled a hint of orange blossoms.
"You've got folks waiting for you out there, Michael.. Do you know that you've got aunts, and uncles and cousins?"
She patted his skinny shoulders and started humming. Then she lifted her head and sang. I wondered if the flight attendant told her what to sing, or maybe she just knew what was right. Her strong, clear voice filled the passageway, "Jesus loves me -- this I know..."
Michael's gasps quieted. Still holding him, I rose, nodded "hello" to his grandma and watched her pick up the grocery bag. Right before we got to the doorway to the terminal, Michael loosened his grip around my neck and reached for his grandma.
As soon as she walked across the threshold with him, cheers erupted. From the size of the crowed, I figured family, friends, pastors, elders, deacons, choir members and most of the neighbors had come to meet Michael. A tall man tugged on Michael's ear and pulled off the red sign around his neck. It no longer applied.
As I made my way to the gate for my connecting flight, I barely noticed the weight of my overstuffed briefcase and laptop. I started to wonder who would be in the seat next to mine this time. .... And I smiled.
~By Jerry Seiden~
OK, need a little laughter now? try this on for size.
Children.
To those of us who have children in our lives, whether they are our own, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, or students... here is something to make you chuckle.
Whenever your children are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God's omnipotence did not extend to his own children.
After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve.
And the first thing he said was "DON'T!"
"Don't what?" Adam replied.
"Don't eat the forbidden fruit." God said.
"Forbidden fruit? We have forbidden fruit? Hey Eve, we have forbidden fruit!"
"No Way !"
"Yes way!"
"Do NOT eat the fruit! " said God.
"Why?"
"Because I am your Father and I said so! " God replied, wondering why He hadn't stopped creation after making the elephants. A few minutes later, God saw His children having an apple break and He was ticked!
"Didn't I tell you not to eat the fruit? " God asked.
"Uh huh," Adam replied.
"Then why did you? " said the Father.
"I don't know," said Eve.
"She started it! " Adam said.
"Did not! "
"Did too! "
"DID NOT! "
Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. Thus the pattern was set and it has never changed.
BUT THERE IS REASSURANCE IN THE STORY!
If you have persistently and lovingly tried to give children wisdom and they haven't taken it, don't be hard on yourself. If God had trouble raising children, what makes you think it would be a piece of cake for you?
THINGS TO THINK ABOUT!
1. You spend the first two years of their life teaching them to walk and talk. Then you spend the next sixteen telling them to sit down and shut up.
2. Grandchildren are God's reward for not killing your own children.
3. Mothers of teens now know why some animals eat their young.
4. Children seldom misquote you. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said.
5. The main purpose of holding children's parties is to remind yourself that there are children more awful than your own.
6. We childproofed our homes, but they are still getting in.
Advice for the day: Be nice to your kids. They will choose your nursing home one day.
And finally:
If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle;
“Take two aspirin” and importantly, “Keep away from children.”
18 comments:
A good story and fun humor.
Well I'm misty eyed and chuckling here Peter. I guess it must have been a really good post. Thanks my friend.
My emotions have run the gamut already, Peter, and it is only 7:25 am!
Hi Peter ~~ Good story and the jokes good also. Take care, Merle.
I hadn't read that story before, Peter, but it sure is a tissue needy story.
As for the kids...say no more. Like most of us, been there, done that...now I've got grandkids, so I didn't kill my own two.
Enjoy the weekend.
Hi Peter, I needed the Tissues before I got to the end of that tear jerker, good jokes also.Take care, see you soon
AHHH- Peter.
That was such a good story. It made me cry, of course! I had never read it before.
June
I'd never read that one before either but I sent a link to it my brothers, sisters, and a couple of friends I knew would love it too. Thanks for sharing.
OMG, Peter, thanks for the laugh after that bittersweet story. I had tears in my eyes, but I finished the post laughing!
Hi Peter.
Thanks for dropping by,well it proves that you do remember anfd will remember "THE WOODEN BOWL".
I missed it on your blog,but then I
haven't been doing much of anything. see u
Fabrulous post!
I enjoyaed ebvery biet of it.
Theanks!
Have a wonderful day!
*^_^
(=':'=) hugs
(")_ (")Š from
the Cool Raggedy one
Sad stories make me cry.
Love the funny part.
Lovely story about the little boy, Peter...it so reminds me of a flight I took across to Perth a number of years back...I must write about it and post it in my blog...you will see some similarities. Thanks for post that...I enjoyed it. :)
when I saw "tear jerkers" I wondered who coined that phrase. It sure has stayed the course.
Now what'd you have to go and make me cry for ... bloggings for laughter, not tears LOL.
Wonderful story, Peter.
Loved the Adam and Eve one, too.
Thanks.
Take care, Meow
What a great story!!
Sigh, I'm still getting over Friday night's game, so for a change
1) Merle's jokes didn't make me laugh
2) your story didn't make me cry
I AM STILL TOO ANGRY about Friday night...
Loved that last part, Peter the Great.
And Holy Crap! My Camino Browser now renders your webiste perfectly. How weird.
Maybe the latest update helped.
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