Memories In Life

His name was Lawrence William Jackson. He was four years older than me in years but in knowledge of life he was much older. He was born with a disability. At the time they called it Muscular Dystrophy. Being younger, I don't think I ever really knew what it was. I just knew I had a brother who was different. He could never walk and his arms and legs couldn't extend all the way out. He could not sit up straight. He spent his life bent over and crawled around on the floor with his legs tucked under him. He had to be helped in going to the bathroom, getting into a chair or getting in bed. Somebody had to be with him all the time in case he needed something. When I was in elementary school, I had to come right home if mother wasn't going to be home to make sure somebody was there when Larry got off the bus. At the time, they tried all kinds of therapy to help him but the only thing I can remember is him crying in pain as they tried to stretch his legs and arms out. As he got older, his condition got worst and he had to be home schooled. Growing up with him I did not see his disability as other people did, he was just my brother. We played together, had our fights and jealousies - just like all brothers do. I never really thought about having to help him because I grew up with him. I'm not saying there were times when I didn't want to do it but I knew it had to be done. I can't say I always treated him kindly but like I said, we were brothers and we acted like it. My parents had two boys and he was the one that had the special talents with his hands and his mind. At a young age he could do things that seemed way beyond his years. He could draw, paint and figure anything out, if he thought about it awhile. When he was 16, my father was building a house and Larry sat done and drew a whole set of house plans. My mother still has pictures that he painted hanging in her house. When he was in high school he took tests that showed he was at a 2nd year college level. He would tell me things about space travel in the 50's and I would think he was just making them up but later on they turned out to be true. As he grew older, I'm sure life was harder because he saw other teenagers doing things and having girl friends. To my regret, I probably didn't even see the torment he was probably going through. I was just becoming a teenager and I was so use to him that I worried about my own life. I was playing football and running track. Because of his condition, a lot of what Larry dreamed of doing, he would never be able to do. He got weaker and weaker. When he got sick, his body wasn't strong enough to fight it. When he was 17 years old, my brother passed away of what was called pneumonia. I was only 13 at the time. I can remember the night we took him to the hospital. He was unconscious but I thought he would be fine. When we got him to the hospital, I couldn't even comprehend what the doctor was talking about when he came out and said there was nothing they could do for him. When I did realize he was gone, I started to cry and I don't think my parents even realized the impact it had on me. The next week I had the last track meet of the year and the coach said, "Win this one for your brother". I loved track but I just looked at the coach and said, "I wouldn't run at all because my brother was more important than any high school track meet." I know the coach didn't mean anything bad, telling me to win it for my brother, but I just couldn't see how he could relate losing my brother to winning a race. I didn't know it at the time but I had lost the person that had the most affect on my life. He taught me more about how to accept life and how to treat people than anyone I had met or will ever meet in my life. My father was a stern man and a hard worker and taught me how to be a man. But my brother taught me the important things in life. Larry's life was harder than I can even imagine but he never complained. He took life as it came and always tried to have a good attitude when he had every reason not to. He never gave up trying to be the best person he could be, against all odds, and accepted life as it was for him knowing that it was not going to get much better. After Larry died, I went on to become the Captain of my high school football and track teams, All the time I was participating, I always felt his presence - like he was there helping me and wanting me to succeed. During my life I have been a police officer, a firefighter /paramedic and have always tried to help people. I do not judge people for their faults. I try to be good man and kind to everyone I meet. I try to understand that all of us are trying to find the same thing in life; that's happiness. In 2001 I was assaulted and left for dead. I had a brain injury and was in a coma for 4 weeks. When I finally woke up, I had some disabilities from the head injury and people could not figure out why I wasn't more depressed or bitter about my situation. Growing up with a brother who had so many disadvantages, but took life as it came without complaint, my problems seemed to be small in comparison to 17 years of living with a disability that was never going to improve and accepting it. Every day of my life, I thank my brother for showing me the kind of person I should be. If people would just appreciate all the gifts they have in life and not try to harm or cheat other people for greedy reasons, thinking that this will bring them happiness. If we would try to help are people without looking for something in return, this would be a much better world. We must find happiness in our journey through life and not always be searching for it. Always strive to achieve and be the best that you can be but be happy with the things you have while you're doing it. I moved to Florida after graduation and I hadn't gone to my brother's grave in 35 years. When I went back to Michigan last year, I decided I would go to his grave. I didn't realize how emotional I would become when I saw his grave marker. I began to cry knowing that he had always been a big part of my life. Thanks Larry, for making me a better person and accepting life as it is. Written by Jon Jackson (Florida)

Latiff - The Story of a Begger

Latiff was the poorest beggar of the village. Every night he slept in the hall of a different house, in front of the town square.

Every day he had a short rest under a different tree, with a widespread hand and a far away look in his thoughts. Every evening he would eat the alms or the crusts that some charitable person brought over to him.

Without embargo, in spite of his aspect and the way his days happened, Latiff was considered by all to be the wisest man of town, perhaps not so much because of his intelligence, but by what he had lived.

One sunny morning the king appeared in the square, surrounded by his guards, walking between the fruits and trinkets looking for nothing.

Laughing at the merchants and at the buyers, the king and his entourage almost stumbled over Latiff, who was dozing in the shade of a holm oak. Someone told the king that he was in front of the poorest of his subdits, but also in front of one of the most respected men because of his knowledge.

The king, entertained, approached the beggar and said to him, "If you answer my question, I will give you this golden coin."

Latiff looked at it, almost contemptuously, and said to him, "You can keep your coin, what will I do with it anyway? What is your question?"

The king felt defied by the response and instead of a banal question, he asked a question that was bothering him for days and that he could not solve; a problem of goods and resources that analysts had not solved for him.

Latiff's response was wise and creative. The king was surprised; he left the coin at the feet of the beggar and continued on his way to the market, pondering the events.

The next day he came back directly to where Latiff was resting; this time under an olive grove. Again the king posed a question and again Latiff answered it rapidly and wisely. The king was surprised again at so much intelligence. In a humble act, he took off his sandals and sat in front of Latiff.

"Latiff, I need you", the king said to him. "I am overwhelmed by the decisions that as king I must make. I do not want to harm my people and neither do I want to be an evil king. I ask you to come to the palace to be my adviser. I promise you that you should not fear at all, that you will be respected and that you will be able to leave whenever you want... Please."

Whether it was out of compassion, for service or for surprise, Latiff, after thinking a few minutes, accepted the proposal of the king.

That same evening Latiff came into the palace, where immediately a luxurious room was assigned to him. The room was close to the king's room and had a tub filled with essences and lukewarm water waiting for him.

During the following weeks the consultations with the king became habitual. Every day, in the morning, and in the evening, the monarch ordered his new adviser to consult him on the problems of the kingdom, on his own life or on his spiritual doubts.

Latiff always answered with clarity and precision and became the favourite speaker of the king. Three months after his arrival, there wasn't any decision made by the monarch without consulting his valued adviser first.

Obviously this unleashed the jealousy of all the other advisers. They saw in the beggar a threat against their own influences.

One day all of the advisers asked for a private hearing with the king. Very circumspect and with gravity they said to him, "Your friend Latif, as you call him, is conspiring to demolish you."

The king said, "I cannot believe it."

"You can confirm it with your own eyes", they said. "Every evening, at about five o'clock, Latiff slinks away from the palace up to the south wing and he enters a dark room. He meets with someone undercover, we do not know with whom. We have asked him where he was going all these evenings. He gave us evasive answers. His attitude alerted us to his conspiracy."

The king felt defrauded and hurt. He had to confirm these versions.

That evening, at five o'clock, he was waiting for Latiff under the stairs. He saw Latiff come to the door and look all around, with the key hanging from his neck. He opened the wooden door and slinked secretly into the room.

"Did you see him?" The other advisers shouted. "You saw him?"

Followed by his personal guard, the monarch struck the door.

"Who is it?" Latiff asked from the inside.

"I am the King" he said, "Open the door to me."

Latiff opened the door. There was nobody inside, except Latiff. No other doors or windows, no secret doors or any furniture where someone could hide.

Inside the room, there was only a worn out wooden plate; in a corner, a walking stick and in the center of the room a shabby tunic hanging by a hook in the roof.

"Are you conspiring against me Latiff?" the King asked.

"How could I, your Majesty?" Latiff answered. "No way. Why would I do that? Only six months ago, when I first came here, the only thing that I had was this tunic, this plate and this walking stick. Now I feel so comfortable in the clothes that I wear, I feel so comfortable with the bed that I sleep in, I am so flattered by the respect that you give me and so fascinated by the power you allow me... to be close you ... that I come here every day to touch this old tunic to make sure that I do Remember...

WHO I AM AND WHERE I CAME FROM.

True:

We must never forget who we are and where we come from; life turns and we can always return to the same place. 

Written by Jorge Bucay --- Argentinean Writer
Translated by Gustavo Velez --- Columbia 

Conversation

In a brief conversation, a man asked a woman he was pursuing the question: "What kind of man are you looking for?"

She sat quietly for a moment before looking him in the eye & asking,"Do you really want to know?"

Reluctantly, he said, "Yes." 

She began to expound: 

"As a woman in this day & age, I am in a position to ask a man what can you do for me that I can't do for myself? 

I pay my own bills. I take care of my household without the help of any man.... or woman for that matter. 

I am in the position to ask, "What can you bring to the table?"

The man looked at her. Clearly he thought that she was referring to money. 

She quickly corrected his thought & stated, "I am not referring to money. I need something more." 

"I need a man who is striving for excellence in every aspect of life." 

He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, & asked her to explain. 

She said:

"I need someone who is striving for excellence mentally because I need conversation & mental stimulation. I don't need a simple-minded man. 

I need someone who is striving for excellence spiritually because I don't need to be unequally yoked...believers mixed with unbelievers is a recipe for disaster. 

I need a man who is striving for excellence financially because I don't need a financial burden. 

I need someone who is sensitive enough to understand what I go through as a woman, but strong enough to keep me grounded. 

I need someone who has integrity in dealing with relationships. Lies and game playing are not my idea of a strong man. 

I need a man who is family-oriented. One who can be the leader, priest and provider to the lives entrusted to him by God. 

I need someone whom I can respect. In order to be submissive, I must respect him. 

I cannot be submissive to a man who isn't taking care of his business. 

I have no problem being submissive...he just has to be worthy. 

And by the way, I am not looking for him...He will find me. He will recognize himself in me. He may not be able to explain the connection, but he will always be drawn to me. God made woman to be a helpmate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself." 

When she finished her spill, she looked at him. 

He sat there with a puzzled look on his face.

He said, "You are asking a lot." 

She replied, "I'm worth a lot."