Every McDonald’s has them:

A GROUP OF MEN

They drink their Senior Savers Coffee and read paper, do crosswords and The Jumble and

THEY TALK–A lot!

I don’t know how I got “OUTTED” but THEY knew I was “A Minister”

I think Erin spilled it. Then again, many times on Saturday mornings, we started our day there before I was off to do a funeral or two.

It was ONE of those Saturday’s.

He had on a STEELER’S ball cap on and Erin complimented him on it and said, “GO STEELERS” as we sat down beside their table.

“Steeler fans?”

…and the conversation began.

We told him I lived just South of Pittsburgh in a small town called Washington and Erin lived North of Pittsburgh in Natrona Heights. He said he and his family lived in a small coal mining town before they moved to Cleveland for good back in 1936

. . .and then the McFESSIONAL began.

He talked about how his grandfather was a hard working coal miner just like everyone else in that small town. He never missed work for any reason, he proudly told us.

He reminisced about how every Summer the Circus would come to town from the next coal mining town before moving to the next one just down the road. He told us every year his grandfather would promise, “Next year, I promise I’ll take you kids to the Circus,” and “NEXT YEAR” he never did until Grandma put her foot down and told Grandfather he was going to take off work and ‘take those kids to the Circus you’ve promised to take to them every year.’

Grandfather might have been the bread winner and the hard-working-never-take-a-day-off-kind of guy, but Grandma not only made the Law, but enforced it.

A little pause, in between sips of his coffee. . .

He continued on a little slower and a little more reflective by telling us how his grandfather did take off work to take them to the Circus and they were having a great time. He told us how the Circus almost came to a standstill when they heard the Mining Whistle Blow.

There had been an explosion

All of the men his grandfather worked with, called his friends were killed THAT day but not
Grandfather. . .NO, he had taken his grandchildren to the Circus.

“You know, people. . .people can just be down right cruel. They made fun of us kids at school, picked fights, and they blamed my grandfather for taking the day off, for not being there, FOR LIVING! We had to move, to leave town and that’s how we got to Cleveland. . . .”

“The Story” will hardly make an edition of “WHO’S WHO,” or “RIPLEY’S BELIEVE IT OR NOT” It won’t really not much make a Hallmark Special or a LIFETIME SPECIAL FEATURE. . .but it’s a story that needed to be Told and HEARD.

Why. . .WHY ME?

He told us four or five other stories in quick succession after that with the preface of, “I know you don’t have much time, but let me tell you about. . .” one about his son and him getting caught in a severe storm canoeing, one about the death of his father-in-law and his son NOT missing the funeral because of a freak cancelation of school, one about he and his wife, one about him being in the
service…each one with a Confessional flavor attached.

Why. . .why me?

Why you?

Why anyone?

Because everyone has a Story that needs to be told and more, desperately needs HEARD.

Maybe the bigger question:

WHY NOT ME?

The very next story you listen to…GET TOLD…might just be the very one that sincerely needed Shared.

T H A T it was entrusted to YOU. . .

Now that’s Bonus!

Cherish it…nothing more sacred could ever be given…or received. . . .

More than words on paper. . .

We are all a Story in The Book.

Do you know this one?

A grandson of slaves, a boy was born in a poor neighborhood of New Orleans

His dad abandoned the family when he was an infant. His mother became a prostitute and the kid and his sister had to live with their grandmother. Early in life, he proved to be gifted for music and, with three other kids, he sang in the streets and became a professional of sorts by having coins thrown at him.

A Jewish family, Karnosvsky, who had immigrated from Lithuania to the USA, had pity for the 7-yr-old boy and brought him into their home. Initially given ‘work’ in the House, to feed this hungry child. Then he remained and slept in this Jewish family home where, for the first time in his life, he was treated with kindness. When he went to bed, Mrs. Karnovsky sang him a Russian lullaby that he would sing with her.

Later, he learned to sing and play several Russian and Jewish songs. Over time, this boy became the adopted son of this family. The Karnovsky’s gave him money to buy his very first trumpet; they sincerely admired his musical talent. When he became a more established professional musician, he used these Jewish melodies in compositions, such as St. James Infirmary and Go Down, Moses.

The little boy grew up and wrote a book about this Jewish family who had adopted him in 1907. In memory of this family and until the end of this life, he wore a Star of David and he said that it is in this family that he had learned “how to live real life and determination.”

The little boy?

Louis Armstrong. . .

More than feathery pages. . .

More than words on paper. . .

We are all a Story in the Book.

Hmmmmm. . .

What a Wonderful World, huh?

Pssssssst: You’re Story–it’s still be written. . . .

Make it E X T R A

Ordinary!

It’s quite the Symphony not only waiting to be fully composed, but

played. . .sung. . .heard!

You OWE it to the World. . .

and the World awaits.