| My Favorite Short Stories |
Welcome
These are some of my Favorite Short Stories that's been shared with me over the years. Check back as I add to these on a regular basis.
Share your favorites with me by filling out the form to the right. [;~)
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Sack Lunches
I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. 'I'm glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap, I thought.
Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation.
'Where are you headed?' I asked the soldier seated nearest to me.
'Petawawa. We'll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we're being deployed to Afghanistan .'
After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time...
As I reached for my wallet, I overheard a soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. 'No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn't be worth five bucks. I'll wait till we get to base.'
His friend agreed.
I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. 'Take a lunch to all those soldiers.' She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. 'My son was a soldier in Iraq ; it's almost like you are doing it for him.'
Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and asked, 'Which do you like best - beef or chicken?'
'Chicken,' I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class.
'This is your thanks..'
After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room.. A man stopped me. 'I saw what you did.. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.' He handed me twenty-five dollars.
Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand and said, 'I want to shake your hand.' Quickly unfastening my seatbelt I stood and took the Captain's hand. With a booming voice he said, 'I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.' I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.
Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.
When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!
Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. 'It will take you some time to reach the base... It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.'
Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers.
As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals. It seemed so little...
A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to 'The United States of America 'for an amount of up to and including my life.'
That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.
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FREE KITTENS
A pretty little girl named Suzy was standing on the sidewalk in front of
her home. Next to her was a basket containing a number of tiny creatures;
in her hand was a sign announcing FREE KITTENS.
Suddenly a line of big black cars pulled up beside her. Out of the lead
car stepped a tall, grinning man.
"Hi there little girl, I'm President Obama. What do you have in the
basket?" he asked.
"Kittens," little Suzy said.
"How old are they?" asked Obama.
Suzy replied, "They're so young, their eyes aren't even open yet."
"And what kind of kittens are they?"
"Democrats," answered Suzy with a smile.
Obama was delighted. As soon as he returned to his car, he called his PR
chief and told him about the little girl and the kittens.
Recognizing the perfect photo op, the two men agreed that the president
should return the next day; and in front of the assembled media, have the
girl talk about her discerning kittens.
So the next day, Suzy was again standing on the sidewalk with her basket
of "FREE KITTENS," when another motorcade pulled up, this time followed by
vans from ABC, NBC, CBS and CNN.
Cameras and audio equipment were quickly set up, then Obama got out of
his limo and walked over to little Suzy.
"Hello, again," he said, "I'd love it if you would tell all my friends out
there what kind of kittens you're giving away."
"Yes sir," Suzy said. "They're Republicans."
Taken by surprise, the president stammered, "But... but... yesterday, you
told me they were DEMOCRATS."
Little Suzy smiled and said, "I know. But today, they have their eyes
open."
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An 80-year-old man goes for a physical. All of his tests come back with
Normal results.
The doctor says, "George, everything looks great. How are you doing
Mentally and emotionally? Are you at peace with God?"
George replies, "God and I are tight.. He knows I have poor eyesight,
So He's fixed it so when I get up in the middle of the night to go to
The bathroom, poof! The light goes on. When I'm done, poof! The light
goes off.."
"Wow, that's incredible," the doctor, says.
A little later in the day, the doctor calls George's wife.
"Ethel," he says,
"George is doing fine! But I had to call you because I'm in awe of his
Relationship with God. Is it true that he gets up during the night, and
Poof! The light goes on in the bathroom, and when he's done, poof! The
light goes off?"
"Oh my God!" exclaims Ethel. "He's peeing in the refrigerator again!"
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God will find you
Subject: God will find you--very good true story
Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago , writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:
"Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped.. I immediately filed Tommy under 'S' for strange.. Very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the 'atheist in residence' in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, 'Do you think I'll ever find God?' I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. 'No!' I said very emphatically. 'Why not,' he responded, 'I thought that was the product you were pushing.' I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, 'Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!' He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.
I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line -- He will find you! At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. 'Tommy, I've thought about you so often; I hear you are sick, blurted out.
'Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks...''Can you talk about it, Tom?' I asked. 'Sure, what would you like to know?' he replied 'What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying? 'Well, it could be worse. 'Like what? 'Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life.. I began to look through my mental file cabinet under 'S' where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
'But what I really came to see you about,' Tom said, 'is something you said to me on the last day of class.' (He remembered!) He continued, 'I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you..' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!) 'But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God.. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven.. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying.. And then you quit.
'Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an afterlife, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.''
'So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him.. 'Dad. 'Yes, what?' he asked without lowering the newspaper. 'Dad, I would like to talk with you.' 'Well, talk. 'I mean . It's really important.' The newspaper came down three slow inches. 'What is it?' 'Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that.' Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.
'The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me..'
'It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years.
'I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.
'Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. c'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.''
'Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him.'
'Tommy,' I practically gasped, 'I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.' Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it would not be half as effective as if you were to tell it.
'Oooh.. I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class.' 'Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call.' In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed.
He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.
Before he died, we talked one last time. 'I'm not going to make it to your class,' he said. 'I know, Tom.' 'Will you tell them for me? Will you . tell the whole world for me?' I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best.'
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- I told them, Tommy, as best I could.
If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two. It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.
With thanks,
Rev. John Powell,
Professor,
Loyola University , Chicago
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THE OUTHOUSE POEM
The service station trade was slow
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick
Piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.
"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.
With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed, just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
She bounded through the door,
And headed quickly for the car
Just like three gals before.
She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout,
As her silk stockings, down at her knees
Caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell - got up, and then
In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.
Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did, and then we found
The whittling owner knew.
A speaking system he'd devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.
He'd wait until the gals got set
And then the devilish tike,
Would stop his whittling long enough,
To speak into the mike.
And as she sat, a voice below
Struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
We're painting under here!"
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START OVER
When you've trusted God and walked his way
When you've felt his hand lead you day by day
But your steps now take you another way ...
Start over.
When you've made your plans and they've gone awry
When you've tried your best and there's no more try
When you've failed yourself and you don't know why ...
Start over.
When you've told your friends what you plan to do
When you've trusted them and they didn't come through
And you're all alone and it's up to you ...
Start over.
When you've failed your kids and they're grown and gone
When you've done your best but it's turned out wrong
And now your grandchildren come along ...
Start over.
When you've prayed to God so you'll know his will
When you've prayed and prayed and you don't know still ...
When you want to stop cause you've had your fill ...
Start over.
When you think you're finished and want to quit
When you've bottomed out in life's deepest pit
When you've tried and tried to get out of it ...
Start over.
When the year has been long and successes few
When December comes and you're feeling blue
God gives a January just for you ...
Start over.
Starting over means "Victories Won"
Starting over means "A Race Well Run"
Starting over means "God's Will Done"
Don't just sit there ............ ..
START OVER
by Woodrow Kroll of "Back to the Bible"
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MOTHERS
Real Mothers don't eat quiche;
They don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils
Are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors,
Filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough
Doesn't come out of carpets.
Real Mothers don't even want to know what
The vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?'
And get their answer when a little
Voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
Real Mothers know that a child's growth
Is not measured by height or years or grade...
It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother...
The Images of Mother
4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!
8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesnt know everything!
14 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother? She wouldn’t have a clue.
16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's so five minutes ago.
18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it!
35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
the figure she carries,
or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she
Shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
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A friend of mine opened his wife's underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package:
'This, - he said - isn't any ordinary package.'
He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
'She got this the first time we went to New York , 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on , was saving it for a special occasion.
Well, I guess this is it.
He got near the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral house, his wife had just died.
He turned to me and said:
'Never save something for a special occasion.
Every day in your life is a special occasion'.
I still think those words changed my life.
Now I read more and clean less.
I sit on the porch without worrying about anything.
I spend more time with my family, and less at work.
I understood that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through.
I no longer keep anything.
I use crystal glasses every day...
I'll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if I feel like it.
I don't save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.
The words 'Someday....' and ' One Day...' are fading away from my dictionary.
If it's worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it now....
I don't know what my friend's wife would have done if she knew she wouldn't be there the next morning, this nobody can tell.
I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends.
She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels.
I'd like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food.
It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come..
Each day, each hour, each minute, is special.
Live for today, for tomorrow is promised to no-one..
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A Box of Kisses by Author Unknown
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it?"
The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said,"Oh, Daddy, it is not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
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Every time you think in "lack" remember you always have a box that may seem empty at first site, but is actually full of unconditional love, happiness, and kisses. Take a little out of the box every single time you need it. Remind yourself, which is not always easy, that there are people who love you.
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The Deaf Bookkeeper
A Mafia Godfather finds out that his bookkeeper has cheated him out of ten million bucks.
His bookkeeper is deaf. That was the reason he got the job in the first place.
It was assumed that a deaf bookkeeper would not hear anything that he might have to testify about in court.
When the Godfather goes to confront the bookkeeper about his missing $10 million, he brings along his attorney, who knows sign language.
The Godfather tells the lawyer, "Ask him where the 10 million bucks he embezzled from me is."
The attorney, using sign language, asks the bookkeeper where the money is.
The bookkeeper signs back: "I don't know what you are talking about."
The attorney tells the Godfather: "He says he doesn't know what you're talking about."
The Godfather pulls out a pistol, puts it to the bookkeeper's temple and says, "Ask him again!"
The attorney signs to the bookkeeper: "He'll kill you if you don't tell him!"
The bookkeeper signs back: "OK! You win! The money is in a brown briefcase, buried behind the shed in my cousin Enzo's backyard in Queens !"
The Godfather asks the attorney: "Well, what'd he say?"
The attorney replies: "He says you don't have the guts to pull the trigger."
Don't you just love lawyers!
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Doggie Welfare
This morning I went to sign my Dogs up for welfare. At first the lady said, "Dogs are not eligible to draw welfare". So I explained to her that my Dogs are mixed in color, unemployed, lazy, can't speak English and have no frigging clue who their Daddies are. They expect me to feed them, provide them with housing and medical care, and feel guilty because they are dogs.
So she looked in her policy book to see what it takes to qualify. My Dogs get their first checks Friday.
Is this a great country or what?
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