Fw: INFORMATION PLEASE

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Oh Judy... that was a 3 tissue one. boo hoo...thanks.

hugs

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Boo Hoo! Love, Judy Fw: INFORMATION PLEASE> ----- Original Message -----> >> > >> When I was quite young, my father had one of the first> > > telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well, the> > > polished old case fastened to the wall and the shiny> > > receiver on the side of the box.> > >> > > I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to> > > listen with fascination when my mother would talk to> > > it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the> > > wonderful device lived an amazing person and her name> > > was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did> > > not know. "Information Please" could supply anybody's> > > number and the correct time.> > >> > > My first personal experience with this> > > 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 hammer.> > > The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any> > > reason in crying because there was no one home to give me> > > 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> > > 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 a hammer and it> > > hurts."> > >> > > "Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I> > > could. "Then chip off a piece 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 that my pet chipmunk, which 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, then said the usual thing grown ups say> > > to soothe a child. But, I was inconsolable. 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, ", you must remember that there are other> > > worlds to sing in." Somehow, I felt better.> > >> > > Another day I was on the telephone. "Information> > > Please". "Information," said the now familiar voice.> > > How do you 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 somehow I never thought of trying the> > > tall, new shiny 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 half-an-hour or so> > > between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone> > > with my sister, who lived there now.> > >> > > Then, without thinking about 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 be healed by now."> > >> > > I laughed, "So it's really still 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 calls> > > 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 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 in the last few> > > years because she was sick. She died five weeks> > > ago."> > >> > > Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Are> > > you ?"> > >> > > "Yes".> > >> > > "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 I still say 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 make on others.> > >> > > Whose life have you touched today?> > >> > > Why not pass this on to a special friend - I just did.> > >> > > --------- End Original Message ---------> > >> > >> >>