A Re-cycled beauty! ... thx T & C!

Subject: FW: Phone On The Wall. just beautifu

  PHONE
ON THE WALL.... HELLO

When I was a young
boy, 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 parlour and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I
unhooked the receiver in the parlour 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, "Wayne , 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 1 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 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 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 Wayne?"

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?

Why not pass this on?
I just did...

Lifting you on eagle's
wings.

May you find the joy
and peace you long for.

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