Daughter

A True Story — by Ronda Rich Funny, the things you learn when you tuck manners away and allow yourself to eavesdrop. Mary Noble and I slid into the ancient red leather and steel booth of a diner in Birmingham and placed our breakfast order. As we poured cream into …

-- Author Unknown

-- Author Unknown

The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the front.  It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape.  I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away.

"You're not taking that old thing, are you?"  Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt.  "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!"

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL

-- Author Unknown
 

A TRUE STORY -- Author Unknown

A True Story -- Author unknown

There is a kind soul working in the dead letter office of the U.S. Postal Service somewhere...

Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God, so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could, so she dictated these words:

By Rick Beneteau

She was three. Just released from a far-away hospital after life threatening brain surgery, ready to take on the world again. I was happy just to have her back. My little "Mr. Clean" (shaven head and hoop earrings) and me driving along to our local mall. Hanging out with dad day. I recall her words as if it were yesterday.

"Daddy, can I get a treat?"

Author Unknown

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.

Author Unknown

Tess was a precocious eight year old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor bills and their house.

Only a very costly surgery could save Andrew now and it was looking like there was no one to loan them the money. She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."

By Michael Hargrove

While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life changing experiences that you hear other people talk about. You know, the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly? Well, this one occurred a mere two feet away from me! Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jetway, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.