Photo by  Sailing “Footprints: Real to Reel” (Ronn ashore)

Photo by sinosplice

here’s an xray

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,24920170-1702,00.html

I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life…”

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.

What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry.

Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute”, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick-knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy”, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers”.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

By Kent Nerburn
This Excerpt was reproduced with the author’s permission.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/01/06/AR2009010601195.html

and no one was hurt that’s awesome!

kinda tricky

*it says “Japanese IQ Test” in the site but I think it’s chinese cause I can read japanese and I can’t read any of it..

Created by The Car Connection

Pushups for Donuts

There was a boy by the name of Steve who was
attending school in Utah.
In this school Seminary classes are held during
school hours. Brother Christianson taught Seminary
at this particular school. He had an open-door policy
and would take in any student that had been thrown
out of another class as long as they would abide by his
rules. Steve had been kicked out of his sixth period
and no other teacher wanted him, so he went into
Brother Christianson’s Seminary class.

Steve was told that he could not be late, so
he arrived just seconds before the bell rang and he
would sit in the very back of the room. He would
also be the first to leave after the class was over.

One day, Brother Christianson asked Steve to stay
after class so he could talk with him. After class,
Bro. Christianson pulled Steve aside and said, “You
think you’re pretty tough, don’t you?”

Steve’s answer was, “Yeah, I do.”

Then Brother Christianson asked, “How many push-ups
can you do?”

Steve said, “I do about 200 every night.”

“200? That’s pretty good, Steve,” Brother
Christianson said. “Do you think you could do 300?”

Steve replied, “I don’t know… I’ve never done 300
at a time.”

“Do you think you could?” Again asked Brother
Christianson.

“Well, I can try,” said Steve.

“Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I need you to
do 300 in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do
it? I need you to tell me you can do it,” Brother
Christianson said. Steve said, “Well… I think I
can… yeah, I can do it.”

Brother Christianson said, “Good! I need you
to do this on Friday.”

Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in
the front of the room. When class started, Brother
Christianson pulled out a big box of donuts.
Now these weren’t the normal kinds of donuts,
they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream
centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited-it
was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were
going to get an early start on the weekend.

Bro. Christianson went to the first girl in the
first row and asked, “Cynthia, do you want a donut?”

Cynthia said, “Yes.”

Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked,
“Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia
can have a donut?”

Steve said, “Sure,” and jumped down from his desk to
do a quick ten. Then Steve again sat in his desk.

Bro. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia’s desk.

Bro. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person,
and asked, “Joe do you want a donut?”

Joe said, “Yes.” Bro. Christianson asked, “Steve
would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?”
Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut.

And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten
pushups for every person before they got their
donut.

And down the second aisle, till Bro. Christianson
came to Scott.

Scott was captain of the football team and center of
the basketball team. He was very popular and never
lacking for female companionship. When Bro.
Christianson asked, “Scott do you want a donut?”

Scott’s reply was, “Well, can I do my own pushups?”

Bro. Christianson said, “No, Steve has to do them.”

Then Scott said, “Well, I don’t want one then.”

Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked,
“Steve, would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a
donut he doesn’t want?”

Steve started to do ten pushups. Scott said, “HEY!
I said I didn’t want one!”

Bro. Christianson said, “Look, this is my classroom,
my class, my desks, and my donuts. Just leave it on
the desk if you don’t want it.” And he put a donut
on Scott’s desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a
little. He just stayed on the floor between sets
because it took too much effort to be getting up
and down. You could start to see a little
perspiration coming out around his brow. Bro.
Christianson started down the third row. Now the
students were beginning to get a little angry.

Bro. Christianson asked Jenny, “Jenny, do you want a
donut?”

Jenny said, “No.”

Then Bro. Christianson asked Steve, “Steve,would you
do ten pushups so Jenny can have a donut that she
doesn’t want?” Steve did ten, Jenny got a donut.

By now, the students were beginning to say “No” and
there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks.
Steve was also having to really put forth a lot of
effort to get these pushups done for each donut.

There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor
beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get
red because of the physical effort involved.

Bro. Christianson asked Robert to watch Steve to
make sure he did ten pushups in a set because he couldn’t
bear to watch all of Steve’s work for all of those
uneaten donuts. So Robert began to watch Steve
closely. Bro. Christianson started down the fourth
row.

During his class, however, some students had
wandered in and sat along the heaters along the sides of the
room. When Bro. Christianson realized this; he did
a quick count and saw 34 students in the room. He
started to worry if Steve would be able to make it.

Bro. Christianson went on to the next person and the
next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve
was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot
more time to complete each set.

Steve asked Bro. Christianson, “Do I have to make my
nose touch on each one?”

Bro. Christianson thought for a moment, “Well,
they’re your pushups. You can do them any way that you
want.”

And Bro. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason came to the room and was
about to come in when all the students yelled, “NO!
Don’t come in! Stay out!”

Jason didn’t know what was going on. Steve picked
up his head and said, “No, let him come.”

Bro. Christianson said, “You realize that if Jason
comes in you will have to do ten pushups for him.”

Steve said, “Yes, let him come in.”

Bro. Christianson said, “Okay, I’ll let you get
Jason’s out of the way right now. Jason, do you
want a donut?”

“Yes.”

“Steve, will you do ten pushups so that Jason
can have a donut?” Steve did ten pushups very slowly
and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was
handed a donut and sat down.

Bro. Christianson finished the fourth row, then
started on those seated on the heaters. Steve’s
arms were now shaking with each pushup in a struggle to
lift himself against the force of gravity. Sweat
was dropping off of his face and, by this time, there
was not a dry eye in the room.

The very last two girls in the room were
cheerleaders and very popular. Bro. Christianson went to Linda,
the second to last, and asked, “Linda, do you want a
doughnut?

Linda said, very sadly, “No, thank you.”

Bro. Christianson asked Steve, “Steve, would you do
ten pushups so that Linda can have a donut she
doesn’t want?”

Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow
pushups for Linda. Then Bro. Christianson turned to
the last girl, Susan. “Susan, do you want a donut?”

Susan, with tears flowing down her face, asked,
“Bro. Christianson , can I help him?”

Bro. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, “No,
he has to do it alone, Steve, would you do ten
pushups so Susan can have a donut?”

As Steve very slowly finished his last pushup, with
the understanding that he had accomplished all that
was required of him, having done 350 pushups, his
arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Brother Christianson turned to the room and
said. “And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ,
plead to the Father, “Into thy hands I commend my
spirit.” With the understanding that He had done
everything that was required of Him, he collapsed on
the cross and died. And like some of those in this
room, many of us leave the gift on the desk,
uneaten.

source: http://www.classicglastron.com/donuts.html