I grew up in the 40s/50s with practical parents. A
mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after
she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle
queen, before they had a Name for it... A father who was happier
getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their
best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them
now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress,
lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time
for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door,
the oven door, the hem in a dress Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy.
All that re-fixing, eating, renewing, I wanted just
once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing
things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's
night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was
struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there
isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up
and goes away...never to return. So... while we have
it... it's best we love it.... and care for it... and
fix it when it's broken...... and heal it when it's
sick.

This is true for relationships..... and old cars..... and children with bad report cards..... and dogs with bad hips.... and aging
parents..... and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth
it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep. Like a best friend
that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important,
like people we know who are special..... and so, we
keep them close!

Good friends are like stars.... You don't always see them,
but you know they are always there.

Keep them close!

THINGS YOUR HIGHER POWER WON'T ASK ON THAT DAY.

Won't ask what kind of car you drove. He'll
ask how many people you drove who didn't have transportation.

Won't ask the square footage of your house,
He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

Won't ask about the clothes you had in your closet, He'll
ask how many you helped to clothe.

Won't ask what your highest salary was. He'll
ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.

Won't ask what your job title was. He'll ask
if you performed your job to the best of our ability.

Won't ask how many friends you had. He'll ask
how many people to whom you were a friend.

Won't ask in what neighborhood you lived,
He'll ask how you treated your neighbors.

Won't ask about the color of your skin, He'll
ask about the content of your character.