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My culture: My style @ July 28, 2008

July 28, 2008

Hello!

Today an estimated 5 million Americans are living with Alzheimer’s. And with 78 million baby boomers approaching the age of greatest risk for this fatal disease, the need to find a cure is more urgent than ever.

This year, to support individuals and families living with the disease, as well as those who may be affected in the future, I am participating in the Alzheimer’s Association Memory Walk. to raise funds and awareness for Alzheimer’s disease.

The Alzheimer’s Association is the leading voluntary health organization in Alzheimer care, support and research, and funds I raise will go directly toward supporting their efforts.

I know I can make a difference with your support. Will you consider making a donation, or better yet joining our team and participating in this year’s walk? It’s easy to give online by following the link below.

Thank you in advance for your time and generosity, together, we can help to end Alzheimer’s!

Memory Walk is nationally presented by Genworth Financial.

Follow this link to visit our team web page and help me in my efforts to support Alzheimer’s Association Greater Maryland
https://www.kintera.org/faf/search/searchTeamPart.asp?ievent=264405&lis=1&kntae264405=3553DC3FE4A54C8D93DA8A2FDD00381F&supId=0&team=2793677&cj=Y

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From: Joseph Franks

To: Undisclosed-Recipient:;
Sent: Sun, 27 Jul 2008 8:56 am
Subject: A Truckers’ Story

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn’t sure I wanted one. I wasn’t sure how my customers would react to Stevie.
He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn’t worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don’t generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.


The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded “truck stop germ” the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks..


I shouldn’t have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.


After that, I really didn’t care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag..



If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.



Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That’s why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.



He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome often have heart problems at an early age so this wasn’t unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.


A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine.



Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news.


Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table.



Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.



He grinned. “OK, Frannie, what was that all about?” he asked.


“We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay.”


“I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him.. What was the surgery about?”


Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie’s surgery, then sighed: “Yeah, I’m glad he is going to be OK,” she said. “But I don’t know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they’re barely getting by as it is.” Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn’t had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn’t want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.


After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.



“What’s up?” I asked.



“I didn’t get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off,” she said. “This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup.”



She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed “Something for Stevie”.



“Pony Pete asked me what that was all about,” she said, “so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this.” She handed me another paper napkin that had “Something For Stevie” scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: “truckers..”



That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work.


His placement worker said he’s been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn’t matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.


Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn’t stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.



“Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast,” I said.. I took him and his mother by their arms. “Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!” I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room.



I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. “First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess,” I said. I tried to sound stern.


Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had “Something for Stevie” printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.


Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother. “There’s more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. “Happy Thanksgiving,”


Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.


But you know what’s funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table.


Best worker I ever hired.


Plant a seed and watch it grow.


At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it fulfilling the need!


If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.


Well… Don’t just sit there! Send this story on!


Keep it going, this is a good one!


AMEN!!!

To: Undisclosed-Recipient:;
Sent: Sun, 27 Jul 2008 8:43 am
Subject: New Treatment for Sunburn

#AOLMsgPart_2_4f12f508-d569-4a85-b51e-e7aba0c60b58 .hmmessage P { PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px}#AOLMsgPart_2_4f12f508-d569-4a85-b51e-e7aba0c60b58 BODY.hmmessage { FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Tahoma}

A guy fell asleep on the beach for several hours and got horrible
sunburn, specifically to his upper legs.
He went to the hospital, and was promptly admitted after being
diagnosed with second-degree burns .

With his skin already starting to blister, and the severe pain he was
in,the doctor prescribed continuous intravenous feeding with saline,
electrolytes, a sedative, and a Viagra pill every four hours.

The nurse, who was rather astounded, asked, ‘What good will Viagra do
for him, Doctor’?

The doctor replied, ‘It won’t do anything for his condition, but it’ll
keep the sheets off his legs.’

Today’s Scripture *July 28, 2008*

Posted by: “April Hunt” pastor_april@yahoo.com pastor_april

Sun Jul 27, 2008 10:28 pm (PDT)

Today’s Scripture *July 28, 2008*

Deuteronomy 6:4
Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD:

Monotheism–belief in only one God–was a distinctive feature of Hebrew religion. Many ancient religions believed in many gods. But the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is the God of the whole earth, the only true God. This was an important insight for the nation of Israel because they were about to enter a land filled with people who believed in many god’s. Both then and today, there are people who prefer to place their trust in many different values, belief systems, and “gods”. But the day is coming when God will be recognized as the only One. He will be the King over all the earth!
Zechariah 14:9 9And the LORD shall be king over all the earth: in that day shall there be one LORD, and his name one.

Heavenly Father, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords! We worship You! May You always have first place in our lives! Being the One and Only true God! In Jesus’ Name, Amen..

God bless you as you seek more of Him this coming week!
April

Please do not remove when forwarding
Thank you & God Bless
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Bible Scripture from the Authorized King James Version & Some information & ideas from KJV Life Application Bible ;
all other accompanying thoughts & prayers ©April Hunt 2008

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