Re: The Sandpiper by

[Guest guest]

This is beautiful......beyond words. Love to you Alice,Stef>> The Sandpiper by > > She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.> > I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. > > She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. > > "Hello," she said.> > I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.> > "I'm building," she said.> > "I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.> > "Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."> > That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.> > A sandpiper glided by.> > "That's a joy," the child said.> > "It's a what?"> > "It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."> > The bird went gliding down the beach. > > Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. > > I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.> > "What's your name?" > > She wouldn't give up.> > "," I answered. "I'm ."> > "Mine's ... I'm six."> > "Hi, ."> > She giggled. > > "You're funny," she said.> > In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.> > Her musical giggle followed me.> > "Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."> > The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. > > The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. > > I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat. > > The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. > > The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.> > "Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"> > "What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.> > "I don't know. You say."> > "How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.> > The tinkling laughter burst forth again. > > "I don't know what that is."> > "Then let's just walk."> > Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.> > "Where do you live?" I asked.> > "Over there." > > She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.> > Strange, I thought, in winter.> > "Where do you go to school?"> > "I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."> > She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. > > When I left for home, said it had been a happy day.> > Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.> > Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. > > I was in no mood to even greet . > > I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. > > "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." > > She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.> > "Why?" she asked.> > I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?> > "Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."> > "Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"> > "Did it hurt?" she inquired.> > "Did what hurt?" > > I was exasperated with her, with myself.> > "When she died?"> > "Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. > > I strode off.> > A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there.> > Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. > > A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door. > > "Hello," I said, "I'm . I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."> > "Oh yes, Mr. , please come in. spoke of you so much.> > I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."> > "Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.> > " died last week, Mr. . She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."> > Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. > > I had to catch my breath.> > "She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.> > She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.> > But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." > > Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"> > I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. > > She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. > > Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. > > Underneath was carefully printed: > > A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.> > Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. > > I took 's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. > > The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. > > Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. > > A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand> > -- who taught me the gift of love.> > ----------------------------------------------------------> > NOTE: This is a true story sent out by . > > It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. > > It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. > > The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.> > Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis.> > This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.> > This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you...> > May God Bless everyone who receives this! > > There are NO coincidences!> > Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. > > Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. > > Who knows what they can teach us? > > I wish for you, a sandpiper.> > > > > This email was cleaned by Gaia Tidy Mail, available for free from http://www.printcharger.com>

[Guest guest]

Thank you for sharing this. May you have a greadt day ahead.. Alice <alichee@...> wrote: The Sandpiper by She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

"Hello," she said.I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child."I'm building," she said."I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring."Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.A sandpiper glided by."That's a joy," the child said."It's a what?""It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance."What's your name?" She wouldn't give up."," I answered. "I'm .""Mine's ... I'm six.""Hi, ."She giggled. "You're funny," she said.In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.Her musical

giggle followed me."Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed."Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?""What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance."I don't know. You say.""How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is.""Then let's just walk."Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face."Where do you live?" I asked."Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.Strange, I thought, in winter."Where do you go to school?""I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, said it had been a happy day.Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet . I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath."Why?" she asked.I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?"Oh," she said

quietly, "then this is a bad day.""Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!""Did it hurt?" she inquired."Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself."When she died?""Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there.Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door. "Hello," I said, "I'm . I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.""Oh yes, Mr. , please come in. spoke of you so much.I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies.""Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I

said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said." died last week, Mr. . She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath."She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.Tears welled up in my eyes, and a

heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took 's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand-- who taught me the gift of love.----------------------------------------------------------NOTE: This is a true story sent out by . It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.Life is so complicated, the hustle and

bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis.This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you...May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us? I wish for you, a sandpiper. This email was cleaned by Gaia Tidy Mail, available for free from http://www.printcharger.com

Real people. Real questions. Real answers. Share what you know.

[Guest guest]

Hello

I´m a new member here.

Thank you very much for the Sandpiper.

touches my heart very much.

Metta

Cawei

> -----Ursprüngliche Nachricht-----

> Von:

> Gesendet: 29.11.07 05:11:17

> An:

> Betreff: Re: [] The Sandpiper by

>

>

>

>

>

>

> Thank you for sharing this.

> May you have a greadt day ahead..

>

>

>

> Alice <alichee@...> wrote:

>

>

>

> The Sandpiper by

>

> She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.

>

> I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world

begins to close in on me.

> She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as

the sea.

>

>

> " Hello, " she said.

>

> I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.

>

> " I'm building, " she said.

>

> " I see that. What is it? " I asked, not really caring.

>

> " Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand. "

>

> That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

>

> A sandpiper glided by.

>

> " That's a joy, " the child said.

>

> " It's a what? "

>

> " It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy. "

>

> The bird went gliding down the beach.

> Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on.

> I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.

>

> " What's your name? "

> She wouldn't give up.

>

> " , " I answered. " I'm . "

>

> " Mine's ... I'm six. "

>

> " Hi, . "

>

> She giggled.

> " You're funny, " she said.

>

> In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.

>

> Her musical

> giggle followed me.

>

> " Come again, Mr. P, " she called. " We'll have another happy day. "

>

> The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and

an ailing mother.

> The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater.

> I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

>

> The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.

> The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I

needed.

>

> " Hello, Mr. P, " she said. " Do you want to play? "

>

> " What did you have in mind? " I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

>

> " I don't know. You say. "

>

> " How about charades? " I asked sarcastically.

>

> The tinkling laughter burst forth again.

> " I don't know what that is. "

>

> " Then let's just walk. "

>

> Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.

>

> " Where do you live? " I asked.

>

> " Over there. "

> She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

>

> Strange, I thought, in winter.

>

> " Where do you go to school? "

>

> " I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation. "

>

> She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on

other things.

> When I left for home, said it had been a happy day.

>

> Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

>

> Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic.

> I was in no mood to even greet .

> I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her

child at home.

>

> " Look, if you don't mind, " I said crossly when caught up with me, " I'd

rather be alone today. "

> She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

>

> " Why? " she asked.

>

> I turned to her and shouted, " Because my mother died! " and thought, My God,

why was I saying this to a little child?

>

> " Oh, " she said

> quietly, " then this is a bad day. "

>

> " Yes, " I said, " and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away! "

>

> " Did it hurt? " she inquired.

>

> " Did what hurt? "

> I was exasperated with her, with myself.

>

> " When she died? "

>

> " Of course it hurt! " I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself.

> I strode off.

>

> A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there.

>

> Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to

the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door.

> A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

>

> " Hello, " I said, " I'm . I missed your little girl today and

wondered where she was. "

>

> " Oh yes, Mr. , please come in. spoke of you so much.

>

> I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept

my apologies. "

>

> " Not at all -- she's a delightful child. " I

> said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.

>

> " died last week, Mr. . She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell

you. "

>

> Struck dumb, I groped for a chair.

> I had to catch my breath.

>

> " She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.

>

> She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.

>

> But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly... "

> Her voice faltered, " She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could

you wait a moment while I look? "

>

> I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young

woman.

> She handed me a smeared envelope with " MR. P " printed in bold childish

letters.

> Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and

a brown bird.

> Underneath was carefully printed:

>

> A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

>

> Tears welled up in my eyes, and a

> heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide.

> I took 's mother in my arms. " I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, "

I uttered over and over, and we wept together.

> The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study.

> Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony,

courage, and undemanding love.

>

> A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand

>

> -- who taught me the gift of love.

>

> ----------------------------------------------------------

>

> NOTE: This is a true story sent out by .

> It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever.

> It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living

and life and each other.

>

> The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.

>

> Life is so complicated, the hustle and

> bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly

important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis.

>

> This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means,

take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.

>

> This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with

you...

>

> May God Bless everyone who receives this!

> There are NO coincidences!

>

> Everything that happens to us happens for a reason.

> Never brush aside anyone as insignificant.

> Who knows what they can teach us?

>

> I wish for you, a sandpiper.

>

>

> This email was cleaned by Gaia Tidy Mail, available for free from

http://www.printcharger.com

>

>

>

>

>

> -----------------------------------------------------------------

>

> Real people. Real questions. Real answers. Share what you know.

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Hello Alice, I'm and new to the group and just wanted to say Thank You for sharing this story with us! It's like it was meant for me this morning!!!!!! I really needed it and have already passed it on to friends!!! have a beautiful day! Alice <alichee@...> wrote: The Sandpiper by She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.I drive to this beach, a

distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. "Hello," she said.I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child."I'm building," she said."I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring."Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.A sandpiper glided by."That's a joy," the child said."It's a what?""It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance."What's your name?" She wouldn't give up."," I answered. "I'm

.""Mine's ... I'm six.""Hi, ."She giggled. "You're funny," she said.In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.Her musical giggle followed me."Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed."Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?""What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance."I don't know. You say.""How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is.""Then let's just walk."Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face."Where do you live?" I asked."Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.Strange, I thought, in winter."Where do you go to school?""I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, said it had been a happy day.Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet . I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed

unusually pale and out of breath."Why?" she asked.I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day.""Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!""Did it hurt?" she inquired."Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself."When she died?""Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there.Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door. "Hello," I said, "I'm . I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.""Oh yes, Mr.

, please come in. spoke of you so much.I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies.""Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said." died last week, Mr. . She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath."She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a

drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took 's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand-- who taught me the gift of love.----------------------------------------------------------NOTE: This is a true story sent out by . It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a

reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis.This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you...May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us? I wish for you, a sandpiper. This email was cleaned by Gaia

Tidy Mail, available for free from http://www.printcharger.com

" Friends are like quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings

have trouble remembering how to fly."

Never miss a thing. Make your homepage.

[Guest guest]

Greetings to ALL... I do hope each of you take the time to read this and absorb what wrote....it hit me hard.....my mother died Feb 6,2004.....3000 miles away....I saw her a matter of weeks before she left her body....her name was Joyce, I called her Joy ( I was raised to call my parents by their 1st names..."Mom" and "Dad" were discouraged terms of endearment)....Joy had cancer, and 4 months after diagnosis left her body. We are all destined to do the same...during her 4 months of chemo and radiation I flew back and forth from Las Vegas to Connecticut to be with her. The last time I saw her.....she hugged me and told me to go home, we both knew that I would not see her alive again. As she was hugging me for the last time she told me "go home, and get ready, we both know what's happening... and the family will need you more when I am gone... there is nothing else you can do for me now....so walk away and don't you dare look back.

She gave me a big squeeze, said she loved me, and sent me on my way. That was Jan 3, 2004. I am grateful that I put everything else on hold in my life..to be with my mom. When she passed, one of my siblings screamed ..."I wasn't done with her yet.." this sibling lived right up the road from my mom.....I feel she had not accepted the inevitable, and was living in denial of the TRUTH....and in that denial she has suffered.....I accepted what was happening and made TIME for my mom, I made PEACE with my mom......and in the end I still carry JOY with me everywhere I go.......peace, TRUTH,TIME, LOVE, and blessings to you all...........Serene

Be a better sports nut! Let your teams follow you with Mobile. Try it now.

[Guest guest]

Beautiful, uplifting, heart felt story!! If you haven't read this I

must suggest that you do..

Thank you for sharing this..

Blessings to you!

Love

~Karma

>

> The Sandpiper by

>

> She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I

live.

>

> I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever

the world begins to close in on me.

>

> She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes

as blue as the sea.

>

> " Hello, " she said.

>

> I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small

child.

>

> " I'm building, " she said.

>

> " I see that. What is it? " I asked, not really caring.

>

> " Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand. "

>

> That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

>

> A sandpiper glided by.

>

> " That's a joy, " the child said.

>

> " It's a what? "

>

> " It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy. "

>

> The bird went gliding down the beach.

>

> Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on.

>

> I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.

>

> " What's your name? "

>

> She wouldn't give up.

>

> " , " I answered. " I'm . "

>

> " Mine's ... I'm six. "

>

> " Hi, . "

>

> She giggled.

>

> " You're funny, " she said.

>

> In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.

>

> Her musical giggle followed me.

>

> " Come again, Mr. P, " she called. " We'll have another happy day. "

>

> The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA

meetings, and an ailing mother.

>

> The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the

dishwater.

>

> I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

>

> The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.

>

> The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the

serenity I needed.

>

> " Hello, Mr. P, " she said. " Do you want to play? "

>

> " What did you have in mind? " I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

>

> " I don't know. You say. "

>

> " How about charades? " I asked sarcastically.

>

> The tinkling laughter burst forth again.

>

> " I don't know what that is. "

>

> " Then let's just walk. "

>

> Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.

>

> " Where do you live? " I asked.

>

> " Over there. "

>

> She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

>

> Strange, I thought, in winter.

>

> " Where do you go to school? "

>

> " I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation. "

>

> She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my

mind was on other things.

>

> When I left for home, said it had been a happy day.

>

> Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

>

> Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic.

>

> I was in no mood to even greet .

>

> I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she

keep her child at home.

>

> " Look, if you don't mind, " I said crossly when caught up with

me, " I'd rather be alone today. "

>

> She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

>

> " Why? " she asked.

>

> I turned to her and shouted, " Because my mother died! " and thought,

My God, why was I saying this to a little child?

>

> " Oh, " she said quietly, " then this is a bad day. "

>

> " Yes, " I said, " and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away! "

>

> " Did it hurt? " she inquired.

>

> " Did what hurt? "

>

> I was exasperated with her, with myself.

>

> " When she died? "

>

> " Of course it hurt! " I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself.

>

> I strode off.

>

> A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't

there.

>

> Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I

went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door.

>

> A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

>

> " Hello, " I said, " I'm . I missed your little girl

today and wondered where she was. "

>

> " Oh yes, Mr. , please come in. spoke of you so much.

>

> I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance,

please, accept my apologies. "

>

> " Not at all -- she's a delightful child. " I said, suddenly realizing

that I meant what I had just said.

>

> " died last week, Mr. . She had leukemia. Maybe she

didn't tell you. "

>

> Struck dumb, I groped for a chair.

>

> I had to catch my breath.

>

> " She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.

>

> She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called

happy days.

>

> But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly... "

>

> Her voice faltered, " She left something for you, if only I can find

it. Could you wait a moment while I look? "

>

> I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this

lovely young woman.

>

> She handed me a smeared envelope with " MR. P " printed in bold

childish letters.

>

> Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue

sea, and a brown bird.

>

> Underneath was carefully printed:

>

> A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

>

> Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to

love opened wide.

>

> I took 's mother in my arms. " I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm

so sorry, " I uttered over and over, and we wept together.

>

> The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study.

>

> Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of

harmony, courage, and undemanding love.

>

> A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand

>

> -- who taught me the gift of love.

>

> ----------------------------------------------------------

>

> NOTE: This is a true story sent out by .

>

> It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life

forever.

>

> It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to

enjoy living and life and each other.

>

> The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.

>

> Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas

can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a

momentary setback or crisis.

>

> This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all

means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and

smell the roses.

>

> This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share

it with you...

>

> May God Bless everyone who receives this!

>

> There are NO coincidences!

>

> Everything that happens to us happens for a reason.

>

> Never brush aside anyone as insignificant.

>

> Who knows what they can teach us?

>

> I wish for you, a sandpiper.

>

>

>

>

> This email was cleaned by Gaia Tidy Mail, available for free from

http://www.printcharger.com

>

[Guest guest]

Dearest rio, Cawei, LUNA, Serene, ~Karma & ,

Thanks for all you warm hearted messages.

i was really touched by the other story, "The Old Man & His Dog"... but was moved to tears, that i cried after reading the story.

i would like to like to dedicate this to all of you...

Anatomy of a True FriendEyes: Will always see you for the way you really are, your true self.Ears: Will always have them open to listen.Mouth: To always tell you the truth and give their opinions, tell you when you mess up or do something good.Shoulders: Will offer when you need one to cry on and will be your strength when you find it hard to carry yourself. Will always let you lean on them. Heart: To love you for who you are and not judge. Will always have a place there for you. Hands: To hold yours when you need a little guidance, to lend when you need help, and to help you up when you may fall. Arms: Will always make you feel comfortable in them and to offer hugs when you need one. Will try to warm when you are cold. Feet: To walk with you throughout your life and be the best friend they can be. You're a True Friend! Thank you for being there for me!

Namaste & Metta to all Members,

Alice

[Guest guest]

AWWWW, Dearest Alice,

You are such a sweetie! Much love to you, my dear, that was

so touching, my love for you grows evermore if that is possible,

hehe Big Huge Hugs to you, my soul sister!! Namaste, Luna

>

> Dearest rio, Cawei, LUNA, Serene, ~Karma & ,

>

> Thanks for all you warm hearted messages.

>

> i was really touched by the other story, " The Old Man & His Dog " ...

but was moved to tears, that i cried after reading the story.

>

> i would like to like to dedicate this to all of you...

>

> Anatomy of a True Friend

>

> Eyes: Will always see you for the way you really are, your true

self.

>

> Ears: Will always have them open to listen.

>

> Mouth: To always tell you the truth and give their opinions, tell

you when you mess up or do something good.

>

> Shoulders: Will offer when you need one to cry on and will be your

strength when you find it hard to carry yourself. Will always let you

lean on them.

>

> Heart: To love you for who you are and not judge. Will always have

a place there for you.

>

> Hands: To hold yours when you need a little guidance, to lend when

you need help, and to help you up when you may fall.

>

> Arms: Will always make you feel comfortable in them and to offer

hugs when you need one. Will try to warm when you are cold.

>

> Feet: To walk with you throughout your life and be the best friend

they can be.

>

>

> You're a True Friend!

> Thank you for being there for me!

>

>

> Namaste & Metta to all Members,

> Alice

>