1 --> Last Words <--
One day a girl, Sara, who was fifteen years old, came home from school in a very bad mood. She'd had a fight with her best friend that day and it hadn't turned out well at all.
"Sara!" her mom yelled. "What are you doing? You know to do your chores right when you get home! And you're late!"
"Coming, Mom!" Sara yelled, getting up and stomping towards the kitchen. "What?" she snapped as her mother gave her a stern look, annoyed.
"You'd better straighten up your attitude, young lady," her mom warned, "or you'll be grounded."
"Whatever." Sara began to throw around the dishes in the sink, trying to make as much noise as she possibly could. A plate cracked and cut her hand. Sara cursed.
"Sara!" her mom exclaimed. "How dare you use that language! Go to your room!"
"No!" Sara yelled, throwing down the towel she was using to wipe the blood off her hand.
"Do you want to say 'no' one more time and see what happens?" her mom asked. She looked furious.
"Sure," Sara said sarcastically. "No."
"How dare you!" Her mother slapped her.
Sara shrank back, staring incredulously at her mom. She had never hit Sara before.
"I HATE YOU!" Sara screamed before running out of the house.
"Sara, get back here!" her mom yelled, running after her.
"Leave me alone!" Sara screamed, running across the street. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed again.
She continued running until she heard the sound of screeching tires and a scream. She turned around, hoping that it wouldn't be what she thought it would be....
People were crowding around Sara's mother, who was laying in the middle of the street, looking broken, bloody.
"NOOOO!" Sara screamed, running over and pushing through everyone to kneel by her mom. "Oh no, oh no...."
Her mom wasn't moving or breathing. She was gone. Sara tipped back her head and wailed to the sky, sobbing so hard it hurt.
She couldn't believe the last words she had spoken to her mother were "I hate you".
2 --> Hospital Windows <--
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."
3 -- > A Tear to the Eye < --
Barbara was driving her six-year-old son, Benjamin, to his piano lesson. They were late, and Barbara was beginning to think she should have cancelled it. There was always so much to do, and Barbara, a night-duty nurse at the local hospital, had recently worked extra shifts. She was tired. The sleet storm and icy roads added to her tension. Maybe she should turn the car around. "Mom!" Ben cried. "Look!" Just ahead, a car had lost control on a patch of ice. As Barbara tapped the brakes, the other car spun wildly rolled over, then crashed sideways into a telephone pole. Barbara pulled over, skidded to a stop and threw open her door. Thank goodness she was a nurse - she might be able to help these unfortunate passengers. Then she paused. What about Ben? She couldn't take him with her. Little boys shouldn't see scenes like the one she anticipated. But was it safe to leave him alone? What if their car were hit from behind? For a brief moment Barbara considered going on her way. Someone else was sure to come along. No! "Ben, honey, promise me you'll stay in the car!" "I will, Mommy," he said as she ran, slipping and sliding toward the crash site. It was worse than she'd feared. Two girls of high school age are in the car. One, the blonde on the passenger side, was dead, killed on impact. The driver, however was still breathing. She was unconscious and pinned in the wreckage. Barbara quickly applied pressure to the wound in the teenager's head while her practiced eye catalogued the other injuries. A broken leg, maybe two, along with probable internal bleeding. But if help came soon, the girl would live. A trucker had pulled up and was calling for help on his cellular phone. Soon Barbara heard the ambulance sirens. A few moments later she surrendered her lonely post to rescue workers. "Good job," one said as he examined the driver's wounds. "You probably saved her life, ma'am." Perhaps. But as Barbara walked back to her car a feeling of sadness overwhelmed her, especially for the family of the girl who had died. Their lives would never be the same. Oh God, why do such things have to happen? Slowly Barbara opened her car door. What should she tell Benjamin? He was staring at the crash site, his blue eyes huge. "Mom," he whispered, "did you see it?" "See what, Honey?" she asked. "The angel, Mom! He came down from the sky while you were running to the car. And he opened the door, and he took that girl out." Barbara's eyes filled with tears. "Which door, Ben?" "The passenger side. He took the girl's hand, and they floated up to Heaven together" "What about the driver?" Ben shrugged. "I didn't see anyone else." Later, Barbara was able to meet the families of the victims. They expressed their gratitude for the help she had provided. Barbara was able to give them something more - Ben's vision. There was no way he could have known what happened to either of the passengers. Nor could the passenger door have been opened; Barbara had seen its tangle of immovable steel herself. Yet Ben's account brought consolation to a grieving family. Their daughter was safe in Heaven. And they would see her again.
4 -- > All the Time in the World < --
While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. "That's my son over there," she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.
"He's a fine looking boy," the man said. "That's my son on the swing in the blue sweater." Then, looking at his watch, he called to his son. "What do you say we go, Todd?"
Todd pleaded, "Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes." The man nodded and Todd continued to swing to his heart's content.
Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his son. "Time to go now?"
Again Todd pleaded, "Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes." The man smiled and said, "Okay."
"My, you certainly are a patient father," the woman responded.
The man smiled and then said, "My older son Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I'd give anything for just five more minutes with him. I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Todd.
"He thinks he has five more minutes to swing. The truth is . . .
I get five more minutes to watch him play."
I get five more minutes to watch him play."
