Thursday, 13 June 2013


Third and the last part of the series is HOPE. Yes the flame which lightens our lives endlessly. Hope is the thing that perches in the soul and sings the tunes without the words and never stops at-all.
Today I will share with u a story shared by my friend which has also given me hope to do what i do and be what I am. Enjoy reading....

Just yesterday, I was sitting on that old tattered park bench by the swings, when an old man with a mongoose hanging off his chin (at least I'm sure his beard was related to one) plopped down beside me and started humming a tune. Hmm-dum-dum-bah-hmm-dum-dum. It was a joyful tune and a beautiful hum I will admit. Unlike his clothes which were worn down a point past needing news ones. The shaggy holes only gave away his second layer of overused hand-me-downs. At least he was smart enough to wear layers.
It was a chilly fall afternoon. Dreary with rain clouds hovering, ready to explode, exposing themselves in a very brave way. The knit cap that he wore looked like it jumped right out of the 1800's and needed more than a patch to help its look of pity. Despite his ragged appearance, he was soft. As he hummed in his low baritone voice, the wind blew a few more half turned leaves off a tree near by. I couldn't help but sit back and enjoy the odd moment.
I folded my arms and crossed one leg over the other, avoiding all hints of invitation. This tattered old bench is usually a quiet, peaceful, thinking sanctuary for me, and I wanted it to remain so. He continued to hum the sweet tune over and over relaxing my arms. I began to slink into a more comfortable position. It wasn't quiet, but it was peaceful. I could think just fine to his melody. So I shut my eyes soaking in the deep, silky sound, letting it carry me into a daydream.
Seconds later, a giant pile of leaves appeared. It looked like someone had spent hours collecting them, piling them as neatly as leaves can pile. Still dreaming, I licked my chapped lips and rubbed my palms together trying to fire up warm friction. I gazed at the orange-yellow, green-yellow, and red laced leaves. A smile awakened across my icy cheeks and the sweet urge to be a child again raced through my body. Thoughts tore at my brain. Oh, how nice it would be to have that childhood energy again, to never need time just to relax. I took a deep breath allowing the brisk breeze zoom up my nostrils turning everything inside into miniature icicles. I stretched my arms back like a track star and threw my body into a lunging run. The wind rattled my face and picked me up into a soar and when it quit I found myself emerged in orange, yellow, and red. The neatly assemble pile was now flying into the air like a million down feathers released from a blimp. I lay back with my arms outstretched and began to swing my arms and legs making an angel.
Then the humming stopped. I glanced over at the old man hoping he wouldn't notice my abrupt reaction. He looked back with a gentle smile lined with creases. Cautiously, he reached inside his disintegrating shirt and pulled out a book. It was an old Bible that looked like it had been on a journey right back into the Old Testament. I sat still, while he kindly excused himself setting the Bible next to me. I quietly followed his steps as he walked out of the park, toes hanging out of his boots.
Confused, half wondering if I was still daydreaming, I looked down at the beat up Bible. When he clearly had disappeared around the corner, I picked it up and opened it. On the inside of its soft leather cover was an envelope. Written in the most beautiful script read, "Everything has a season, it's time to change." What I found inside was more astonishing that the angel-like penmanship. A single maple leaf, yellow-brown around its edges, two hundred dollar bills, and a note.
"It is better to have a little and give a lot, then to have a lot and give a little. I trust you will know what to do with this and I hope life's changes are a blessing for you."
I placed the envelope back in the Bible and walked home. I won't tell you what I did with the money, but I will tell you that the experience changed my life, opened my eyes, my mind, and my heart. It is inaccurate to judge someone by the clothes they wear or the tune they hum because neither will give you true character. The old man, tattered and soft, showed me compassion and gave me hope. Two of the best gifts I could ever ask for and will ever receive.

Every night we go to bed,
We have no assurance to get up alive in the morning,
But you still have plans for the coming day that too with an alarm to wake up on time,
That's hope....!!!!!!

Here is the end of my series of 3 stories to inspire your living. Enjoy reading, and I think I have helped a bit... Never deprive someone of help, it might be all they have...

Have CONFIDENCE, TRUST yourself and never lose HOPE

P.S:: I don't know the original source of this story but i have shared it just the way it was shared to me with a friend. I thought it would help u so sharing it. HOPE you enjoy it and work on it.


  1. Lovely story.. and yes theres no specific age to start something new...

    1. Thanx Jija...Desire to do something is important not age...

  2. Hope keeps a man alive to live his life.... Beautiful..
    Loved the series, looking forward to ur new post.

    1. Thanx aabheer, readers like u make the blogs successful....

  3. Lovely and touching, really effective....

  4. Thanx aliya..... Hope its working for u....


Thanx a lot for dropping in..... Your words strengthen me......