Inspiration .OT Hankie Alert...

[Guest guest]

> >Subject: Fw: Information Please

>

> >Try to remember how important you are...

> >The Old Phone

> >When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in

> our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the

> wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little

> to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my

> mother talked to it.

>

> >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 anyone's

> number and the correct time.

>

> >My personal experience with the genie-in-a-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 seemed no point 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? " the voice asked.

>

> > " No, " I replied. " I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts. "

>

> > " Can you open the icebox? " she asked.

>

> >I said I could.

>

> > " Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger, " said

> the voice.

>

> >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. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had

> caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

>

> >Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,

> Information Please, " and told her the sad story. She listened, and

> then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not

> consoled. I asked her, " Why is it

>

> >that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families,

> only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage? "

>

> >She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "

> 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 in the now familiar voice. " How do I spell fix? " I

> asked.

>

> >All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I

> was nine 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 shiny new phone that sat on the

> table in the hall.

>

> >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 a half-hour or so between planes. 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 the small, clear voice I knew so well.

> " Information. "

>

> >I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, " Could you please

> tell me how to spell fix? "

>

> >There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, " I guess

> your finger must have healed by now. "

>

> >I laughed, " So it's really 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 call 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 " , she said. " Just ask for Sally. "

>

> >Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered,

> " Information. " I asked for Sally.

>

> > " Are you a friend? " she said.

>

> > " Yes, a very old friend, " I answered.

>

> > " I'm sorry to have to tell you this, " she said. " Sally had been

> working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died

> five weeks ago. "

>

> >Before I could hang up she said, " Wait a minute, did you say your

> name was ? " " Yes. " I answered.

>

> > " Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you

> called. Let me read it to you. "

>

> >The note said, " Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll

> know what I mean. "

>

> >I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

>

> >Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

>

> >Whose life have you touched today? Lifting you on eagle's wings. May

> you find the joy and peace you long for.

>

> >Life is a journey .. NOT a guided tour.

Marilyn

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