Music To The Ears…And A Kind Act From The Heart!

When violin virtuoso Philippe Quint left a 1723 Antonio Stradivari in a taxi two weeks ago, he was distraught. The $4 million instrument was not only irreplaceable, it was on loan. But the cab driver returned the violin the next morning, and in gratitude, the Grammy-nominated musician will performed a private concert at the Newark airport cab stand.

Article 1 – BBC
Article 2 – Newser
Philippe Quint homepage
Philippe Quint – Myspace Music page

39 Years Ago – This Is Touching

Take the time to check out this one. It needs to be played in every school and building in this country! So many have seem to forgotten the meaning of which Red explains so well.

This is so unbelievable. In 1969, how did he know?

Some of you may remember him but he passed away before many of you were born. Red Skelton was a good and funny man. He also ended every show by saying, “Good Night and God Bless”. Listen to the end of this. It is something he said 39 years ago. Very important that you listen to the very end! Eerie! Take a moment and listen to it (from 1969). How would he have known that this is what is happening?

Click here and turn your sound on.

For the Few Who Don’t Know:

Red Skelton was a movie star and comedian on television back in the 1950s. He created a number of characters, and his show was watched by millions.

Kind Acts In Action : The Loneliest Road

Below is an email sent to HappyNews by one of its readers.

Hello Happy News, I love your site.

I wanted to let you know about a special little girl named Taylor and her dad, who’s biking across the country to help save her life. It would mean a lot if you could help spread the word about Taylor, her Dad, and their cause. Taylor’s story is below, and you can learn more about Taylor, her dad, and the other childeren and dads at www.loneliestroad.org.

Taylor is a vibrant, blue-eyed, funny two-year old girl who loves to dance, loves princesses, and loves playing with her older brothers. Taylor has a devastating pediatric cancer called Neuroblastoma. She is stage 4-High Risk. She has been incredibly strong in her fight against this disease, enduring 7 rounds of chemo before age two. She is now being treated at Sloan Kettering in NYC because the local doctors have done all they can with their resources.

In New York, there is a new treatment against the disease that could be manufactured, but the funding is currently unavailable. The survival rate for high-risk neuroblastoma is a grim 30% with a 50% relapse rate. This new treatment gives much hope to the families being treated there, but they needed to come up with a way to fund it. Taylor’s dad, along with other dads have taken it upon themselves to raise the funds. On Monday, September 10th they began the long trek across our country on their bicycles in a campaign they are calling “The Loneliest Road.” They will travel mostly along US Rte. 50, against the elements, and fatigue. It is an echo of what their children are going through each and every day. They hope to raise much needed awareness for this devastating and often “silent” cancer, as well as raise the funds for the new treatment.

Thanks for your time, I appreciate any help you can provided.

Sincerely,
Michael Waisley
Ashburn, VA

Visit The Loneliest Road.

Related Articles:
http://www.deseretnews.com
http://www.thekansascitychannel.com
http://www.mmdnewswire.com

Kind Acts In Action : DINET

When I was 27, my life as I knew it was stripped away from me. I went from being a totally healthy, active, vivacious young woman to being completely bedridden all in one day. Doctor after doctor were puzzled by my strange symptoms, which were numerous and debilitating.

It took eight months for me to be diagnosed with Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. It took a year for me to be able to work again, and then it was only a part time, sit-down job. A ridiculously high heart rate and bottoming out blood pressure left me out of breath and seeing-stars-dizzy whenever I stood up for any length of time. I was lucky though; some people with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome are wheel chair bound and can’t stand up at all.

It has now been eight years since I was originally diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, an often unheard of disorder characterized by dysfunction of the autonomic nervous system, the part of the body that is involved in the control of automatic functions such as breathing, temperature, heart rate and blood pressure. I have healed greatly in the last eight years, and I know that I am blessed to be able to go for walks or just stand up to hug my husband and son when they come in the door. I feel as if I’ve been given a second lease on life, and I’ve spent the last four years running a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping others who have been diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome.

Because the disorder is not well known, funding is in short supply. If there is anyone out there who can help me, I’d greatly appreciate it. [See donation information below]

Thank you,
Michelle Sawicki

Donations are tax deductible and can be made:
Online at www.dinet.org
Mailed to:
DINET
PO Box 55
Brooklyn, MI 49230

Her Only Calming Source – Master Sgt. John Gebhardt

Air Force Chief Master Sgt. John Gebhardt, of the 332md Expeditionary Medical Group at Balad, Iraq, cradles a young girl as they both sleep in the hospital. The girl’s entire family was executed by insurgents: the killers shot her in the head as well. The girl received treatment at the U.S. military hospital in Balad, but cried and moans often. According to nurses at the facility, Gebhardt is the only one who can calm down the girl, so he has spent the last several nights holding her while they both sleep in a chair.

Lord, Keep our Troops forever in your care. Give them victory over the enemy…Grant them a safe and swift return…Bless those who mourn the lost. – Anonymous

Related articles:

http://www.af.mil/news/story.asp?id=123031670

Kind Acts In Action : Ann Arbor Shelter

The Dexter Senior Center in Dexter, MI was kind enough to offer to collect “Wish List Items” for the Homeless Shelter in Ann Arbor. There are plenty of items that are needed. We want to thank all of those involved at the Senior Center for their generous contributions to the shelter!!!

We applaud your kindness Valerie, Director Senior Center. Thank You!

At an inner city soup kitchen, a young woman was serving meals to guests. It was her very first day and she was nervous and unsure of how to behave around the poor, the indigent, the homeless people she had never seen before. As one man was moving past her, she noticed that he had missed his bread portion. She reached out and touched his arm. When he turned, the young woman saw that he was crying. Concerned, she asked if she had hurt him. The man replied, “No, you are the first person who has touched me in more than two years.” – Valerie

“Every time I deliver a meal to her, I give her a hug. I know sometimes it’s the only human touch she’ll get that day.” – Meals on Wheels Volunteer, Dexter MI

View the Wish List
Download the Wish List Word Document.

Please send all donations to:
Robert J. Delonis Center
312 W. Huron St.
Ann Arbor, MI
48103

Links:
Ann Arbor Shelter.

Never Lose Your Beauty

“Some people, No matter how old they get, Never lose their beauty. They merely move it from their faces, into their hearts.”

Martin Buxbaum

See full size image.

The Cab Ride

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, and then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. “Just a minute”, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing”, I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated”. “Oh, you’re such a good boy”, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, “Could you drive through downtown”? “It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice”. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. “I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.” I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now”. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. “How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse. “Nothing,” I said. “You have to make a living,” she answered. “There are other passengers,” I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. “You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.” I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

“People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.”

Anonymous