<To Stefanie>Re: The Sandpiper by

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Dearest Stefanie,

Love to you too,Alice

----- Original Message -----

From: Stefanie

Sent: Thursday, November 29, 2007 11:16 AM

Subject: [] Re: The Sandpiper by

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 m! eetings, and an ailing mother. > > The sun was shining o ne 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.> > "Whe! re 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, "an d 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 bi! rd. > > Underneath was carefully printed: > & gt; 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 livin! g 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, availab! le for free from http://www.printcharger.com>

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