The Two Stories(三)

The First Story:

    On August 26, 1999, New York City was struck by a terrible rainstorm. The rain caused the streets to flood and the subway system almost came to a stop.

    Unfortunately, this happened during the morning rush hour. Many people who were going to work were forced to go home. Some battled to call a taxi or to get on a bus. Still others faced the storm barvely, walking miles to get to work.

    I happened to be one of the people on the way to work that morning. I went from subway line to subway line only to find that most service had stopped. After making my way through croweds of people, I finally found a subway line that was operating. Unfortunately, there were so many people waiting to board the subway that I could not even get down the stairs to the platform. So I took the train going in the opposite direction, and then switch back to the downwindow train. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the train reached my stop. Then I had to walk several blocks in the increasingly heavy rain. When I finally got to my office, I was wet through, exhausted and discouraged.

    My co-workers and I spent most of the day drying off. When it was 5:00 p.m, I was ready to go home. I was about to turn off my computer when I received an e-mail from Garth, my Director:

    I would like to thak all of you who made the effort and eventually reported to work. It is always reassuring, at times like these, when employees so clearly show their devotion to their jobs. Thank you.

    Garth's e-mail was short, but I learned more from that brief message than I ever did from a textbook. The e-mail taught me that a few words of appreciation can make a big difference. The rainstorm and the traffic troubles had made me tired and upset. But Garth's words immediately refreshed me and put a smile back on my face.

The Second Story:

     I was a single parent of four small children, working at a low-paid job. Money was always tight, but we had a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes on our backes, and if not a lot, always enough. Not knowing we were poor, my kids just thought I was strict. I've always been glad about that.

     It was Christmas time, and altough there wasn't money for a lot of gifts, we planned to celebrate with a family party. But the big excitement for the kids was the fun of Christmas shopping.

     They planned weeks ahead of time, asking each other what they wanted for Christmas. Fortunatly, I had saved $120 for presents to share by all five of us.

     The big day arrived. I gave each kid a twenty-dollar bill and reminded them to look for gifts of about four dollars each. Then everyone scattered. We had two hours to shop; then we would meet back at the "Sanata's Workshop".

     Driving home, everyone was in high Christmas spirits, except my younger daughter, Ginger, who was unusually quiet. She had only small, flat bag with a few candies-fifty-cent candies! I was so angry, but I didn't say anything untill we got home. I called her into my bedroom and closed the door, rady to be angry again. This is what she told me.

     "I was looking around thinking of what to buy, and I stopped to read the little cards on the Giving Trees." One was for a little girl, four years old, and all she wanted for Christmas was a doll. So I took the card off the tree and bought the doll for her. We have so much and she doesn't have anything.

      I never felt so rich as I did that day.