A story not to be forgotten…
Frank came over wednesday and while our daughters were being taught violin by the most excellent teacher around, we took a little time to recant a story from our home town. We remembered how a certain motorcycle club would venture out our way and stay across the street from where we lived. Our neighbor seemed to be a most hospitable fellow and welcomed his friends often. Choppers as far as the eye could see lined our corner. As a young boy, we had a certain "respect" for their space. One day, my father's edger and lawnmower went missing. My mother, with no fear of any one or thing, walked over to our neighbor to inform him of our loss. Our neighbor respected our mother, and so he talked with his guests. It was a miraculous event as more edgers and mowers than we ever owned appeared back at our house.
Part 2. When it come time to move our first grand piano, our neighbor's guests happened to be in town. My mother, again, walked across the street and asked, "Is there anyone here that can help?". Sure enough, one of our neighbors guests had moved pianos. He oversaw the entire process. So, the moral of the story, hold your head high, stand firm to your beliefs, and respect all persons. You never know who it will be that will come to your aid.
10.30.2009
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