Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person, her name was Information Please and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anybody's number and the correct time.
My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway, the telephone! Quickly I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. Information please I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."
"I hurt my finger. . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?"
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger."
After that I called Information Please for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math, and she told me my pet chipmunk I had caught in the park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts.
And there was the time that Petey, our pet canary died. I called Information Please and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up on the bottom of a cage?
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please."
"Information," said the now familiar voice.
"How do you spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the pacific Northwest. Then when I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. Information Please belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the hall table.
Yet as I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between plane, and I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard again the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information." I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you tell me please how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess that your finger must have healed by now.
I laughed, "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time.
"I wonder, she said, if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do, just ask for Sally."
Just three months later I was back in Seattle. . .A different voice answered Information and I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?"
"Yes, a very old friend."
"Then I'm sorry to have to tell you. Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." But before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"
"Yes."
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is I'll read it 'Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I did know what Sally meant.
There was not much talking in the car. When they arrived at Aunt Jane's farm, she was there waiting for the boy. The car door opened, the boy, carrying his suitcase, got out, and without another word the parents drove off. The boy did not seem to mind. Without even so much as a hello to his dear Aunt Jane, the boy ran off to visit with all the farm animals.
When supper time came, Aunt Jane and the boy sat down to eat the feast she had prepared for her special guest. "Yuck! I hate corn on the cob!" shouted the boy as he pushed his plate away. "Well then, why don't you have some fried chicken, mashed potatoes and salad?" Aunt Jane asked the boy in a pleasant voice. The boy gazed at the food and said, "Do you have any pizza? Why don't we order a pizza!" Aunt Jane looked at the boy sternly and said, "This is what we have, and this is what we will eat." "Then I'm not eating!" yelled the boy. "Suit yourself," replied Aunt Jane calmly.
When morning came, the boy was famished. He was so hungry in fact, that he didn't even notice he was eating eggs and bacon, something he usually refused to eat at home. "After breakfast, we have lots of chores to do," stated Aunt Jane. "Chores!" shouted the boy, "I want to play!" "Well," said Aunt Jane, "Out on the farm we have a saying: Those who will not work, will not eat. There will be plenty of time for playing later." The boy grumbled and scowled as he gathered the eggs from the chickens, put fresh hay in the barn for the horses, gave the cows water and picked a basket of string beans for supper. And, as Aunt Jane had promised, there was time for play.
Every day for the remainder of the summer, the boy did his chores and cherished the time he had to play and visit with the farm animals. The boy developed such an interest in the horses that Aunt Jane taught him how to saddle, horseshoe and ride a horse. The boy was very pleased with himself.
It was the end of summer and it was time for the boy to leave his Aunt's farm. He became sad thinking of how he would miss the farm animals, "his" horse and surprisingly, Aunt Jane.
"What's the matter dear?" asked Aunt Jane as she brushed the boy's hair from his eyes. The boy sniffled and shrugged his shoulders, too embarassed to speak his mind. "I think I know why you feel this way," said Aunt Jane with a wise look about her face. "Your mom and dad are coming soon and you aren't sure if you should be happy or sad about that. You know that you were pretty nasty at home. You think your parents might not want you any more. Isn't that true?"
"I guess so," said the boy quietly.
Aunt Jane lifted the boy's chin gently upward, and then asked, "Do you feel like the same boy as you were before your parents brought you here, or do you feel different?"
The boy stopped to think. "I feel different," he replied.
"Good!" said Aunt Jane, "Because you are different! Remember that!"
Just then, the door swung open and the boy's mother and father excitedly entered. With tears running down her face, the mother grabbed her son and hugged him. "Oh how we missed you!" she cried. Just as the boy looked up, his father put his hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "We have to talk."
For the rest of the evening, Aunt Jane stayed in her bedroom reading as father, mother and son sat in the living room and expressed regrets, cried, laughed and made plans for the future. "We all have made many mistakes," said father, "But thank God that we recognized our mistakes and can go on from there."
Summary: "Thank God" is indeed true. Like the boy and parents in this story who were so self-involved that they ended up hurting those around them, sometimes what we all need is a gentle reminder of what is truly important in life. Thank God our Heavenly Father can lead us to a better way.
Contributed by Melanie Schurr
(Copyright 1997 Melanie Schurr)
Comments/feedback welcome.
mailto:melsch@webtv.net
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Daily Wisdom online devotional http://www.gospelcom.net/gf/dw A service of Gospel Communications Network (GCN) A Ministry of Gospel Films, Inc. Edited by Warren Kramer warren@gospelcom.net
Exchanged Values: Max Lucado, a prominent author and minister, tells this story about a prank that occurred years ago:
It seems a couple of prowlers broke into a department store in a large city. They successfully entered the store, stayed long enough to do what they came to do and escaped unnoticed. What is unusual about the story is what these fellows did. They took nothing. Absolutely nothing. No merchandise was stolen. No items were removed. But what they did do was ridiculous.
Instead of stealing anything, they changed the cost of everything. Price tags were swapped. Values were exchanged. These clever pranksters took the tag off a $395.00 camera and stuck it on a $5.00 box of stationery. The $5.95 sticker on a paperback book was removed and placed on an outboard motor. They repriced everything in the store!
Crazy? You bet. But the craziest part of this story took place the next morning. The store opened as usual. Employees went to work. Customers began to shop. The place functioned as normal for four hours before anyone noticed what had happened.
Four hours! Some people got some great bargains. Others got fleeced. For four solid hours no one noticed that the values had been swapped.
How Does This Apply To Our Lives?: As price tags were exchanged, valuable goods became cheap and the cheap became valuable. This can happen to us. We exchange things that are important for those that, in comparison, are unimportant.
The world honors success and hard work, so we devote ourselves to jobs we can't wait to retire from, while ignoring marriages that we entered in to for a lifetime; we seek clean, healthy homes, but let them become dumping grounds for the pollution contained in some television programs, movies and popular music; and we want our children to have strong character traits like honesty and integrity, but spend far more time taking them to athletic events and other activities than tending to their spiritual and moral needs.
Yes, the world is a net; the more we stir in it, the more we are entangled. Seeking "happiness" and acceptance, we buy into the world's values and do what is popular. But if the world's values can produce true happiness, why is there a constant effort to create and promote new forms of amusement and entertainment?
Focus your time and attention on what is valuable to you. While doing so, put your spiritual needs at the top of the list. Nothing should come before your relationship with a man named Jesus. Even though he was dead, he is now alive, seated at the right hand of the throne of God. He understands, He knows, He cares. And He nourishes those who seek to be fed.
As Erwin Lutzer observed...If you are not nourished by the Bread from Heaven, you will stuff yourself with crumbs from the world. Real nourishment comes only from Jesus Christ. You'll be eternally sorry if you exchange real nourishment for crumbs.
"What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" Mark 8:36
Contributed by Rich McLawhorn, mailto:REM@mail01.scdps.state.sc.us
© 1997 mcpumpkin@geocities.com
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