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Well, as we put a close on 2011, I
would like to share with you this Christmas update.
2011 marks the end of my 20th year in publishing the McCarty Metro. It has grown from a printed mailed version in 1991 to the online experience we have today. I would be remiss not to thank everyone for reading and submitting, especially Jerry, Mike and Margaret. Without you and them, there would be no Metro. I look forward to
being your editor in 2012. (Hopefully John Cusack is wrong)
Unfortunately, MS took many punches at me this year, and frankly, I'm getting tired of bobbing and weaving. I have been in a lot more pain lately, and I apologize to all that have to deal with this Bitter Old
Man on a daily basis. Even though I don't think the MS will get any better, I hope to work on my attitude
and outlook in the coming year.
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And, although my health has deteriorated
throughout the year, I do consider myself truly blessed. In
addition to my wonderful wife Margaret and family, Austin, Brad,
Chris and Amanda, we added another addition in Alexa Lily, who was
born to Chris and Amanda on March 29th. I wish they lived closer, but Margaret and I were able to make 2 trips out to Oregon, and of course they were able to come in over Labor Day for the big Meet The Baby party.
She is a precious little girl, and Margaret and I hope to spend
more time with her (she needs some spoiling).
My mom is doing
well at Villa Bella. I am able to stop by about every other day
and spend an hour or two with her, just to talk or sit with her
and take in an old movie or a Red Wing game. As I write this, they
just put the big Christmas tree up in the lobby, and the place is
taking on the "holiday" feel. I'm sure everyone gets tied
down during the holiday season, but if you get a chance, stop by
to visit her, or pick up the phone and call. I know she would
appreciate some good conversation and a chance to catch up on
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Before I get to my final
thought for 2011, let me also share these lines from poet Edgar Guest...
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A
happy New Year! Grant that I may bring no tear to any eye. When
this new year in time shall end, let it be said I've played the
friend, have lived and loved and labored here, and made of it a
happy year. |
My final thought this month
takes place around Christmas time. It is a little story about a man named Joe who is down on his luck,
but hasn't given up. He is
still able to spread the joy of giving and evoke the true spirit of
Christmas...
He was driving home one evening, on
a two-lane country road. Work, in this small Midwestern community, was
almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac, but he never quit looking. Ever
since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on,
the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not many people had
a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had
already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill, but he
stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He
was born here and knew the country. He could go
down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his
headlights not working, that came in handy. It was starting to get dark
and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on.
You know, he almost didn't see the
old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of
day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her
Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached
her. Even with the smile on his face, she was
worried. No one had stopped to help her for the last hour or so. Was he
going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He
could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew
how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He said,
"I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where
it's warm? By the way, my name is Joe."
Well, all she had was a flat tire,
but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Joe crawled under the car
looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two.
Soon he was able to change the tire, but he had to get dirty and his hands
hurt. As he was tightening the lug nuts, she rolled down her window and
began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was
only passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.
Joe just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed
him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already
imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.
Joe never thought twice about the
money. This was not a job to him. There was someone in need, and God knows
there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his
whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He
told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw
someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that
they needed, and Joe added "...think of me."
He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and
depressing day, but he felt good as he headed home, disappearing into the
twilight. A few miles down the road the lady saw a cafe. She went in to
grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of
her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas
pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like
the telephone of an out of work actor - it didn't ring much.
Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She
had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day
couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months
pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The
old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a
stranger. Then she remembered Joe.
After the lady had finished her meal, and the waitress went to get her
change from a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door.
She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the
lady could be, then she noticed something written on a napkin. There were
tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said:
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to
serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she
got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money
and what the lady had written. How could she have known how much she and
her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be
hard.
She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her,
she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's
gonna be all right; I love you, Joe.".
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Merry Christmas to
all, and don't let the love end with you.
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Look forward to receiving our
monthly mailer, plus advance notice of all the latest news, podcasts, and special events.
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