Thanks for sharing such a profoundly beautiful and touching story. Helps me not to take anything for granted and puts the little irritations in life into proper perspective.
Hi Karen, I'm humbled by the power of a simple story that took place within an hour to have that effect on people. I'm so glad that it had that effect on you, and I'm grateful that you have shared it with me. Thank you.
Beautiful story, Bob. Thank you for sharing these profound experiences and observations with us. I've always found your writings to be very worthwhile. You have such a kind soul, open and loving. I'm grateful for your words and for you.
I feel your gratitude, Anna. I am blessed to be able to share these experiences in such a way that people can benefit from them in the same way I have by experiencing them. I appreciate that you read my articles and follow up with comments that remind me that what I do is important in some way. There are few gifts in the world greater than fulfillment in one's service to the world, and your comments reflect that back to me. I am grateful for you.
Great story! I remember hearing at some point that hairdressers often times are angels in disguise. They seem to be empaths as well, being so connected with people and relating with them on such a personal level. The story did help to bring me down to earth realizing , as such stories tend to do, that I have all I need and that there is always so much to be grateful for. I would also say that those who suffer while living here on earth appear to be much closer to the spiritual realm . Thanks again.
Hi Tina, there certainly does seem to be a maturity and wisdom in people, even children, who are dealing with much more than life as we know it. As to your other comment, I don't think most people give hairdressers the credit they deserve. They are often both therapists and friends, and they can completely shift our day with their kindness and willingness to listen. Of course, not all are like that, but those who are probably have no idea just how powerful and influential their service is in this world. Thanks Tina!
Great article! A very touching story that helps us to be grateful. Your article definitely takes me back to my childhood. I remember when my father would take me to the barbershop and I loved listening to their stories, discussions, and jokes. My father passed over when I was 12 years old so I found myself riding my bicycle to the barbershop. I really wanted to keep going so I could still have that connection with the men in my community. I would leave home early so that I could take my time riding through my small home town. It would give me a much needed break from the chaos that had become my childhood. Showing up early definitely has its moments. On one of my barbershop journeys I was enjoying the nice warm sunny day, the awesome green trees, and the beautiful flowers. I came around the corner of the next street and slammed on my pedals to a sudden stop. My mind was racing in an attempt to figure out what I was looking at. A car, a big hole in the side of the local bank, and the car was halfway in said hole! Quite a few people standing around obviously talking about what had just happened. I really couldn't hear what was being said making it a point to keep my distance. Realizing it was ok for me to continue on I slowly pedaled past getting a look from every angle and just being blown away from this crazy scene. At the barbershop the men there already knew what had transpired with the exceptional merger of the car and bank. As I sat in an old wooden chair waiting for my turn I intently listened to the barbers and patrons talk. Evidently old blue haired granny Puckett was driving down the street and attempted to apply the brake but caught the gas pedal with the edge of her shoe. This in turn caused the car to accelerate and poor granny Puckett panicked and threw her car right into the brick sidewall of the bank. ( Note: Granny Puckett...made up name...I don't really remember her name. Curious if anyone will get the movie reference) Thankfully no one was hurt but, yah, crazy what you can experience being early to the barbershop.
Your article does touch on what most of us feel when seeing someone with disabilities. I am blessed, I am fortunate, I have no reason to complain! After seeing a beautiful child with a physical disability these thoughts shadowed me throughout my day. When I had a moment to sit in quiet and speak with my "spiritual team" I asked about such a life. I was reminded about our choices before we come into this life. The type of life we choose to live and the lessons it will present to us and others. Now, that really didn't help me to feel better. I tell my team I have no right to complain, to be frustrated with my life and I heard the word "balance." Balance, I asked...what do you mean. It's good to recognize gratefulness and the blessings in your life but never compare yourself, your life, and your moments to others. Regardless if you think their life is worse or, even, better than yours. Have loving compassion for everyone but you have a right to understand your frustrations. Don't let your fears consume you but recognize they are there and grow to understand them and move towards your peace. This insight on balance gave me a sense of understanding of how I can be with such feelings. I would like to part with a poem I discovered many years ago in an old worn book. I hope you enjoy it and I do feel it is fitting to your wonderful article.
Lord Forgive Me When I Whine
Today, upon a bus, I saw a lovely girl with golden hair,
I envied her…She seemed so gay….and wished I were as fair.
When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle;
She had one leg and wore a crutch;
But as she passed….a smile!
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine, I have two legs.
The world is mine!
I stopped to buy some candy. The lad who sold it had such charm.
I talked with him. He seemed so glad. If I were late ‘twould do no harm.
And as I left he said to me, “Thank you. You have been so kind.
It’s nice to talk with folks like you. You see,” he said, “I’m blind”.
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine, I have two eyes.
The world is mine.
Later, while walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes so blue.
He stood and watched the others play. He did not know what to do.
I stopped a moment, then I said, “Why don’t you join the others, dear”?
He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear.
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine. I have two ears.
The world is mine.
With feet to take me where I’d go, With eyes to see the sunset’s glow,
With ears to hear what I would know…Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine.
Okay, Christian, you really need to begin writing more, either on Substack (I don't see any posts yet) or begin your book. Memoirs, as you probably know, are pieces of your life, whereas an autobiography is about your entire life. I love memoirs because they tell mini stories. I was right there with you riding your bike on the beautiful day, then seeing the car and hole in the wall, your brain trying to understand what was before you. I especially loved understanding the meaning that going to the barbershop after your father's passing had for you. You have a precious gift...I should say, another one.
I don't know Granny Puckett, but I'm now intrigued about the Hoodwinked movies. I also appreciate the communication you shared with your spiritual team. Wise words. The poem is a perfect representation of what they told you. Thanks, Christian, for all of it.
Bob! Thank you so much for your incredibly kind and uplifting words. However, I blame you for my writings. Your articles inspire me and I love it! Over the years, of listening to me tell my stories, my wife has told me that I should write down my experiences from both my Psychic readings and my life. Honestly, I have never felt that I am a writer but maybe my vision of what a writer "is" is incorrect.
I did not know the difference between memoirs and autobiographies. I thought they were one in the same and people just used the word "memoir" to sound more bourgeoisie. Of course I have never checked a thesaurus to verify.
I do not know about Substack but promise I will check it out.
I do hope you enjoy the Hoodwinked movies as much as I do.
Bob, my excellent barber is 83 years old. I’ve been using him now for over 15 years I’m 81.
Talk about stories - wow! In summary, he has a few children one is a schizophrenic on medication’s is a diabetic has other health issues. He Is in his late 60s and if he Wasn’t on medication he might really harm somebody. My barbers faith in God has helped him and his wife deal with this for over 60 years. Very long story —- as well as the stories of others like yours - reminds us all how lucky we are! - Rene
Hi Rene! Yes, people like your amazing barber are sprinkled throughout society, and many people miss the example they are setting before us. Thank you for sharing him with us. Humanity at its best! I hope you are having a great week, Rene ~ Bob
This beautiful and heart warming story had me in tears the entire time I was reading it. Thank you so much for ‘that slap on the head’~ I am always grateful everyday but this definitely raised the bar! Again, as always, we are all so blessed with reading your articles each week. . . Always lin
Hi Lin, if the story I told about Marshall and Ed had that effect on you, it's a valuable reminder to me about the profound effect stories can have on us. I agree, fully. This entire story took place in the course of an hour, yet it will stay with me forever. Thank you for sharing with me how it affected you. I'm grateful.
First I want to say I love all your stories, but this one in particular touched my heart.
As I may have mentioned before, I too had a physically disabled son. My son had duchenne muscular dystrophy ( which he was born with, but wasn’t diagnosed until almost age 5) Kids with muscular dystrophy, a progressive disease, lack a protein which weakens all the muscles in the body over time. Most don’t live past their 20’s. Some are born with mental or cognitive disabilities as well as the muscle dysfunction, but my son wasn’t. He was extremely bright, actually an honor student! My son only walked until the age of 6-7, then had to use a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. My husband & I were his full time care- givers until about age 16 when we divorced, & things w/ his disease progressed & we needed more help. There is no cure, although gene therapy has recently become available.
Unfortunately, he passed away at age 23, almost 8 years ago. The heart & lungs have muscles as well, so they too become compromised.
We too, had given him a full, well lived life, amongst many obstacles along the way. We all remained positive & made sure we laughed everyday. Your point about people complaining about stupid things really hit home, because I would always walk away shaking my head when people complained to me over trivial things. Anyway me & him always had good laughs after leaving the barbershop where I took him. Although not as beautiful a place as the one u go to (wish it had been for his sake) nor did he have an “Ed” to cut his hair, we still were able to share some inside type jokes with each other after leaving. I still carry those memories with me & laugh & cry when thinking back on them. I miss him tremendously, & although don’t wish to die anytime soon….. I look forward to the day I do, so I can see him again.
Thank you, Shari, for sharing these memories with us, along with the education about muscular dystrophy. I often think that souls that choose a life with this diseases also choose a parent who is best suited to love and care for them. It would seem that a parent having the financial abundance would be a criteria too, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Your son chose you, and that says a lot to me about who you are.
Based on your other comment, I did verify that Ed, in fact, worked with children with MS vs MD, and that this is Marshall's disease. But there does seem to be many similarities, so I'm not surprised some people are misdiagnosed. Thanks again!
Touching story! It is heartening to know there are compassionate, caring persons like Ed in this world,
you included.
We are leaving Australia for home tomorrow - sad to leave family here but looking forward to see family back home.
Thanks for the heart warming story. Keep them coming…..
Maureen
Thank you, Maureen! It's nice to know you're back on the continent. I'm sure your family is happy to have you back. I appreciate your kindness, Bob
Beautiful story!
Thanks Brenda! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Thanks for sharing such a profoundly beautiful and touching story. Helps me not to take anything for granted and puts the little irritations in life into proper perspective.
Hi Karen, I'm humbled by the power of a simple story that took place within an hour to have that effect on people. I'm so glad that it had that effect on you, and I'm grateful that you have shared it with me. Thank you.
Beautiful story, Bob. Thank you for sharing these profound experiences and observations with us. I've always found your writings to be very worthwhile. You have such a kind soul, open and loving. I'm grateful for your words and for you.
I feel your gratitude, Anna. I am blessed to be able to share these experiences in such a way that people can benefit from them in the same way I have by experiencing them. I appreciate that you read my articles and follow up with comments that remind me that what I do is important in some way. There are few gifts in the world greater than fulfillment in one's service to the world, and your comments reflect that back to me. I am grateful for you.
Great story! I remember hearing at some point that hairdressers often times are angels in disguise. They seem to be empaths as well, being so connected with people and relating with them on such a personal level. The story did help to bring me down to earth realizing , as such stories tend to do, that I have all I need and that there is always so much to be grateful for. I would also say that those who suffer while living here on earth appear to be much closer to the spiritual realm . Thanks again.
Hi Tina, there certainly does seem to be a maturity and wisdom in people, even children, who are dealing with much more than life as we know it. As to your other comment, I don't think most people give hairdressers the credit they deserve. They are often both therapists and friends, and they can completely shift our day with their kindness and willingness to listen. Of course, not all are like that, but those who are probably have no idea just how powerful and influential their service is in this world. Thanks Tina!
Hey Bob,
Great article! A very touching story that helps us to be grateful. Your article definitely takes me back to my childhood. I remember when my father would take me to the barbershop and I loved listening to their stories, discussions, and jokes. My father passed over when I was 12 years old so I found myself riding my bicycle to the barbershop. I really wanted to keep going so I could still have that connection with the men in my community. I would leave home early so that I could take my time riding through my small home town. It would give me a much needed break from the chaos that had become my childhood. Showing up early definitely has its moments. On one of my barbershop journeys I was enjoying the nice warm sunny day, the awesome green trees, and the beautiful flowers. I came around the corner of the next street and slammed on my pedals to a sudden stop. My mind was racing in an attempt to figure out what I was looking at. A car, a big hole in the side of the local bank, and the car was halfway in said hole! Quite a few people standing around obviously talking about what had just happened. I really couldn't hear what was being said making it a point to keep my distance. Realizing it was ok for me to continue on I slowly pedaled past getting a look from every angle and just being blown away from this crazy scene. At the barbershop the men there already knew what had transpired with the exceptional merger of the car and bank. As I sat in an old wooden chair waiting for my turn I intently listened to the barbers and patrons talk. Evidently old blue haired granny Puckett was driving down the street and attempted to apply the brake but caught the gas pedal with the edge of her shoe. This in turn caused the car to accelerate and poor granny Puckett panicked and threw her car right into the brick sidewall of the bank. ( Note: Granny Puckett...made up name...I don't really remember her name. Curious if anyone will get the movie reference) Thankfully no one was hurt but, yah, crazy what you can experience being early to the barbershop.
Your article does touch on what most of us feel when seeing someone with disabilities. I am blessed, I am fortunate, I have no reason to complain! After seeing a beautiful child with a physical disability these thoughts shadowed me throughout my day. When I had a moment to sit in quiet and speak with my "spiritual team" I asked about such a life. I was reminded about our choices before we come into this life. The type of life we choose to live and the lessons it will present to us and others. Now, that really didn't help me to feel better. I tell my team I have no right to complain, to be frustrated with my life and I heard the word "balance." Balance, I asked...what do you mean. It's good to recognize gratefulness and the blessings in your life but never compare yourself, your life, and your moments to others. Regardless if you think their life is worse or, even, better than yours. Have loving compassion for everyone but you have a right to understand your frustrations. Don't let your fears consume you but recognize they are there and grow to understand them and move towards your peace. This insight on balance gave me a sense of understanding of how I can be with such feelings. I would like to part with a poem I discovered many years ago in an old worn book. I hope you enjoy it and I do feel it is fitting to your wonderful article.
Lord Forgive Me When I Whine
Today, upon a bus, I saw a lovely girl with golden hair,
I envied her…She seemed so gay….and wished I were as fair.
When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle;
She had one leg and wore a crutch;
But as she passed….a smile!
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine, I have two legs.
The world is mine!
I stopped to buy some candy. The lad who sold it had such charm.
I talked with him. He seemed so glad. If I were late ‘twould do no harm.
And as I left he said to me, “Thank you. You have been so kind.
It’s nice to talk with folks like you. You see,” he said, “I’m blind”.
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine, I have two eyes.
The world is mine.
Later, while walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes so blue.
He stood and watched the others play. He did not know what to do.
I stopped a moment, then I said, “Why don’t you join the others, dear”?
He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear.
Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine. I have two ears.
The world is mine.
With feet to take me where I’d go, With eyes to see the sunset’s glow,
With ears to hear what I would know…Oh, GOD forgive me when I whine.
I’m blessed indeed. The world is mine.
Author Unknown
Okay, Christian, you really need to begin writing more, either on Substack (I don't see any posts yet) or begin your book. Memoirs, as you probably know, are pieces of your life, whereas an autobiography is about your entire life. I love memoirs because they tell mini stories. I was right there with you riding your bike on the beautiful day, then seeing the car and hole in the wall, your brain trying to understand what was before you. I especially loved understanding the meaning that going to the barbershop after your father's passing had for you. You have a precious gift...I should say, another one.
I don't know Granny Puckett, but I'm now intrigued about the Hoodwinked movies. I also appreciate the communication you shared with your spiritual team. Wise words. The poem is a perfect representation of what they told you. Thanks, Christian, for all of it.
Bob! Thank you so much for your incredibly kind and uplifting words. However, I blame you for my writings. Your articles inspire me and I love it! Over the years, of listening to me tell my stories, my wife has told me that I should write down my experiences from both my Psychic readings and my life. Honestly, I have never felt that I am a writer but maybe my vision of what a writer "is" is incorrect.
I did not know the difference between memoirs and autobiographies. I thought they were one in the same and people just used the word "memoir" to sound more bourgeoisie. Of course I have never checked a thesaurus to verify.
I do not know about Substack but promise I will check it out.
I do hope you enjoy the Hoodwinked movies as much as I do.
Bob, my excellent barber is 83 years old. I’ve been using him now for over 15 years I’m 81.
Talk about stories - wow! In summary, he has a few children one is a schizophrenic on medication’s is a diabetic has other health issues. He Is in his late 60s and if he Wasn’t on medication he might really harm somebody. My barbers faith in God has helped him and his wife deal with this for over 60 years. Very long story —- as well as the stories of others like yours - reminds us all how lucky we are! - Rene
Hi Rene! Yes, people like your amazing barber are sprinkled throughout society, and many people miss the example they are setting before us. Thank you for sharing him with us. Humanity at its best! I hope you are having a great week, Rene ~ Bob
This beautiful and heart warming story had me in tears the entire time I was reading it. Thank you so much for ‘that slap on the head’~ I am always grateful everyday but this definitely raised the bar! Again, as always, we are all so blessed with reading your articles each week. . . Always lin
Hi Lin, if the story I told about Marshall and Ed had that effect on you, it's a valuable reminder to me about the profound effect stories can have on us. I agree, fully. This entire story took place in the course of an hour, yet it will stay with me forever. Thank you for sharing with me how it affected you. I'm grateful.
Hi Bob-
First I want to say I love all your stories, but this one in particular touched my heart.
As I may have mentioned before, I too had a physically disabled son. My son had duchenne muscular dystrophy ( which he was born with, but wasn’t diagnosed until almost age 5) Kids with muscular dystrophy, a progressive disease, lack a protein which weakens all the muscles in the body over time. Most don’t live past their 20’s. Some are born with mental or cognitive disabilities as well as the muscle dysfunction, but my son wasn’t. He was extremely bright, actually an honor student! My son only walked until the age of 6-7, then had to use a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. My husband & I were his full time care- givers until about age 16 when we divorced, & things w/ his disease progressed & we needed more help. There is no cure, although gene therapy has recently become available.
Unfortunately, he passed away at age 23, almost 8 years ago. The heart & lungs have muscles as well, so they too become compromised.
We too, had given him a full, well lived life, amongst many obstacles along the way. We all remained positive & made sure we laughed everyday. Your point about people complaining about stupid things really hit home, because I would always walk away shaking my head when people complained to me over trivial things. Anyway me & him always had good laughs after leaving the barbershop where I took him. Although not as beautiful a place as the one u go to (wish it had been for his sake) nor did he have an “Ed” to cut his hair, we still were able to share some inside type jokes with each other after leaving. I still carry those memories with me & laugh & cry when thinking back on them. I miss him tremendously, & although don’t wish to die anytime soon….. I look forward to the day I do, so I can see him again.
Thank you, Shari, for sharing these memories with us, along with the education about muscular dystrophy. I often think that souls that choose a life with this diseases also choose a parent who is best suited to love and care for them. It would seem that a parent having the financial abundance would be a criteria too, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Your son chose you, and that says a lot to me about who you are.
Based on your other comment, I did verify that Ed, in fact, worked with children with MS vs MD, and that this is Marshall's disease. But there does seem to be many similarities, so I'm not surprised some people are misdiagnosed. Thanks again!