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Welcome to Stories of Heart! ~
If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to [email protected] with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct! Tour our website: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001 ________________________________________________________
We would like to extend
our wishes to my sister: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOMI! Hope you
had a good'un!
Speaking of sisters, below
is a glimpse into a special relationship between my husband,
Stephen, and his sister, Karen.
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SECOND CHANCE
He was really upset. So upset that he decided the best course of action was to take all her precious dolls and snip off their bangs. And that he did.
That's
what little brothers are for, you know.
His
sister liked to tuck away simple treasures in a little velvet-lined
box. That box was
her world, her life.
Once
again, for whatever reason that has been long forgotten, she made him
mad.
So
the logical thing for him was to snatch her most sacred possession and
bury it in the back yard. After
he was done, he stored the shovel in the garden shed, scampered off,
and forgot about the entire incident until--
"STEPHEN!" she shrieked. "Where is it? I know you did something with my treasure box!" After
a good whupping with the thickest switch he could scrounge up, Stephen
was forced to resurrect his sister's treasure box from its grave.
Many holes later with the garden resembling the surface of
Mars, Stephen gave up. To
this day, the treasure box is buried somewhere behind their parents'
home.
Oh,
how Karen resented her little brother.
Being the only girl in the family, she thought she was going to
have a room to herself where she could escape and dream in solitude.
She was a princess, and this was her palace.
Then
one day her mother brought home a baby brother and stuck him in her
domain, where his cries and full diapers pierced her sanctity.
With
five years' difference between them, she eventually became a second
mother to him. It was
tenuous at times, but they were a team nonetheless.
When
Stephen ran away from home as a teenager, he hitched his way to
Lubbock, where he slept on park benches and in rain gutters for
several days. After
finding a job at a fish market and settling into a tiny apartment for
$50 a month, he decided to finish high school there.
His parents refused to sign paperwork that would allow him this
opportunity.
"Come
home," they pleaded.
"I'll
come back," he replied. "But
I will never live with you again."
His
newly married sister generously offered her home to him while he
completed his education. For
two years, she provided an environment that granted him freedoms
he’d never known growing up. To
show his appreciation, he mowed the lawn and cooked meals.
Shortly
after graduation, Stephen found that the town was simply too small.
His heart led him to major cities throughout Texas.
An assortment of construction jobs kept him afloat from one
paycheck to the next. He
learned new skills, and although the income was not steady, he
breathed in freedom everyday.
Then
one warm evening, Stephen was shot as he stumbled out of his car.
With his life teetering on the edge, Karen grabbed the late flight out and was the first one by his side, not knowing if this would be her last moment with her little brother.
At the police impound, she scrubbed the car of his skin and other matter. She sobbed, feeling her brother's blood on her hands. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to draw it out of the upholstery.
It
would be the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life.
A skilled surgeon pulled Stephen through to face a second chance at life. Anguished, he thought, why me? Why this second chance? And with such an ugly scar? What's the whole point?
After
he was discharged from the hospital, he was on his own again.
The welfare office turned him away.
The social security folks did, too.
And so slowly he rebuilt his strength, leaning on a financial
crutch provided unconditionally by the people from whom he had run
away in the first place – his parents.
He started his own sub-contracting company, used the small
settlement to pay back his parents in full, and eventually fell in
love with a woman who looked beyond his scars and into his heart.
Ten years passed.
The
light had gone out of Karen as she underwent a painful separation from
her husband. She no
longer had the energy to pick up her paintbrush.
A mere shell, she trudged through daily routines, her pulse
down to a whisper. Poetry
stopped flowing from her pen. Songs
died in her throat.
It
was a few days before Christmas when Stephen noticed his
sister's house. No
decorations. No tree.
No music. The
refrigerator yielded enough food to feed a bird.
The rooms were stale and cold.
As if someone had aired the house of all the beauty and mystery
of the season.
There
was only one choice.
He
cranked up the stereo to a holiday-music station.
He dragged out the vacuum cleaner and feverishly gave the rooms
a once-over. He dusted
and mopped and filled the refrigerator with holiday fixings.
The small fake tree from the attic was erected on a child's
sled and festooned with red bows.
Stockings hung from a mantle bedecked with large pinecones.
A crackling fire in the fireplace chased away the chills.
The glow of candles cheered the darkest corners.
The
light that flickered in his sister's tired eyes was all the thanks he
needed.
That's
what little brothers are for, you know.
That's
why, Stephen.
You
may not have known it at the time.
But the look in your sister's eyes was just one of many reasons
why you were granted a second chance at life.
Jennifer Oliver
[email protected] Copyright © 2001 by Jennifer Oliver. All rights reserved. ******* Stephen has four other little reasons, ages 1 to 6 years, for being granted a second chance at life. _________________________________________________________ Four-year-old Ethan stuck french fries in his Happy Meal cheeseburger. He presented it to five-year-old Cody, sang "Happy Birthday," and finished by saying, "Okay, now make a wish, Cody!"
- Jennifer Oliver
_________________________________________________________
POWER OF PRAYER Jenny Lewis-Hamblin is undergoing brain surgery on December 14th. On behalf of her Mommy, whom we all know and love as Heartwarmers Gem, Jaye Lewis, I would like to invite all of you in keeping Jenny and her entire family in our thoughts and prayers. _________________________________________________________ FROM OUR FRIENDLY E-MAIL CARRIER In regards to "We Are Not Alone" (http://geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/120401.htm)
Dear Jennifer, I'm a
newcomer to this newsletter and I just wanted to say
"thanks" for passing the love to me direct! You have a
lovely family, by the way! - Deb
Jenny, you just get better and better! - Karen
Hi Jennifer, I don't know
how you crank these puppies out. Loved the message in this one.
It felt relaxed and rambling. - Beth
_________________________________________________________
LOVE, JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY [email protected] When you are born, you cry and everyone is happy. So live your life in such a way that when you die, everyone cries and you are happy. - Unknown _________________________________________________________ This E-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for doing the decent thing! Ü ________________________________________________________ SUBMIT STORY, QUOTE, OR FAMILY LOVE MOMENT: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/submission.htm FEEDBACK: [email protected] _________________________________________________________ |
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