Metropolis Reality Forums

Sponsored by: The Fans!

Welcome, Guest. Please Login or Register.
Nov 25^th, 2024, 8:48pm

Upcoming Premiere Dates:
Survivor 23, Season premiere
Thursday, September 14 (8:00-9:30 PM, ET/PT) on CBS

Metropolis Reality Forums Ť The Old Phone ť

   Metropolis Reality Forums
   Community
   The Grapevine (Moderators: Heather, Bumper, Isle_be_back)
   The Old Phone

Previous topic | New Topic | Next topic »

Pages: 1

Add Poll

Notify of replies

Send Topic

Author

Topic: The Old Phone (Read 163 times)

lakelady
Moderator
ForumsNet Member

Posts: 11251

The Old Phone
« on: May 26^th, 2004, 6:06pm »

Quote

Modify

A poignant story I wanted to share. From an email. I don't have time to format it, so just read.

Subject: The Old Phone

The Old Phone
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones
in
our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to
the
wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too
little
to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when
my
mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived
an
amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was
nothing
she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number
and
the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day
while my
mother was visiting a neighbor Amusing myself at the tool bench in
the
basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was
terrible, but
there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to
give
sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally
arriving
at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool
in the
parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the
receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information,
please" I
said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a
small
clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came
readily
enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,"
said
the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked
her
for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia
was. She
helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had
caught
in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,
Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and
then
said things grown-ups say to soothe a child But I was not
consoled. I
asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and
bring
joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the
bottom
of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul
always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please"
"Information,"
said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When
I
was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I
missed my
friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old
wooden box
back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new
phone
that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the
memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
Often,
in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene
sense of
security I had then. I appreciated now how patient,
understanding, and
kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in
Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15
minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.
Then
without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator
and
said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard the small,
clear
voice I knew so well. "Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you
please
tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer,
"I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any
idea
how much you meant to me during that time?"

I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me.
I
never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I
asked if
I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister

"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice
answered,
"Information." I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been
working
part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five
weeks
ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your
name
was Paul?"

"Yes." I answered.

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you
called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there
are
other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today?

Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you
long
for.

Life is a journey ... NOT a guided tour.

I loved this story and just had to pass it on. I hope you enjoy it
and
get a blessing from it just as I did.

IP Logged

rcs_mum
ForumsNet Member

Proud Mom!

Gender:

Posts: 1744

Re: The Old Phone
« Reply #1 on: May 26^th, 2004, 7:35pm »

Quote

Modify

Thank you LL. What a beautiful story.

IP Logged

kabi958
Guest

Re: The Old Phone
« Reply #2 on: May 26^th, 2004, 10:51pm »

Quote

Modify

Remove

sniff sniff Cry

what a tear jerker Cry

What a nice story. I thought it was going to lead up to how everything is so automated now you never even get a human 1/2 the time. My mother always told me be nice to children they will always remember you . Seems this was true in this story. thanks for sharing that one. kabi sniff sniff

IP Logged