I Love You

He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road. Work, in this small
Midwestern community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit
looking. Ever since the factory closed, he’d been unemployed, and with winter raging
on, the chill had finally hit home.

It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they
were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and
dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother
and father. He was born here and knew the country. He could go down this road blind,
and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, that came
in handy.

It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He’d better
get a move on. You know, he almost didn’t see the old lady, stranded on the side of
the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he
pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering
when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had
stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn’t look
safe, he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how
she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said, “I’m here to
help you ma’am. Why don’t you wait in the car where it’s warm? By the way, my name
is Bryan.”

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan
crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a
time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his
hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and
began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just
passing through. She couldn’t thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just
smiled as he closed her trunk.

She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her.
She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not
stopped. Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This
was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a
hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him
to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the
next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance
that they needed, and Bryan added “…and think of me.”

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing
day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight. A few
miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat,
and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy
looking restaurant.

Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash
register was like the telephone of an out of work actor. It didn’t ring much. Her
waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet
smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn’t erase. The lady
noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the
strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so
little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.

After the lady finished her meal and the waitress went to get change for her hundred
dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the
waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, and then she noticed
something written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the
lady wrote. It said:

“You don’t owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped ME out, the
way I’m helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not
let this chain of love end with you.”

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the
waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and
climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written.
How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby
due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and
as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low,
“Everything’s going to be all right, I love you, Bryan.”

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary’s School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be- alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving. “Thank you for correcting me, Sister!” I didn’t know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher’s mistake. I looked at him and said, “If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!”

It wasn’t ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, “Mark is talking again.” I hadn’t asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark’s desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark’s desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, “Thank you for correcting me, Sister.”

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the “new math,” he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn’t feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves – and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, “Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend.”

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. “Really?” I heard whispered. “I never knew that meant anything to anyone!” “I didn’t know others liked me so much!”

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn’t matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip, the weather, and my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, “Dad?” My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. “The Eklunds called last night,” he began. “Really?” I said. “I haven’t heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is.”

Dad responded quietly. “Mark was killed in Vietnam,” he said. “The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend.”

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.

The church was packed with Mark’s friends. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. “Were you Mark’s math teacher?” he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. “Mark talked about you a lot,” he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark’s former classmates headed to Chucks farmhouse for lunch. Mark’s mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. “We want to show you something,” his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. “They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.”

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark’s classmates had said about him. “Thank you so much for doing that.” Mark’s mother said. “As you can see, Mark treasured it.”

Mark’s classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, “I still have my list. It’s in the top drawer of my desk at home.” Chuck’s wife said, “Chuck asked me to put this in our wedding album.” “I have mine too,” Marilyn said. “It’s in my diary.” Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. “I carry this with me at all times,” Vicki said without batting an eyelash. “I think we all saved our lists.”

That’s when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The purpose of this story is to encourage everyone to compliment the people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things, could mean the most to another. Please spread this story around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The density of people in society is so thick, that we forget that life will end one day and we don’t know when that one day will be. Tell them, before it is too late.

There was this guy who believed very much in true love and decided to take his time to wait for his right girl to appear. He believed that there would definitely be someone special out there for him, but none came.

Every year at Christmas, his ex-girlfriend would return from Vancouver to look him up. He was aware that she still held some hope of re-kindling the past romance with him. He did not wish to mislead her in any way. So he would always get one of his girl friends to pose as his steady whenever she came back. That went on for several years and each year, the guy would get a different girl to pose as his romantic interest. So whenever the ex-girlfriend came to visit him, she would be led into believing that it was all over between her and the guy. The girl took all those rather well, often trying to casually tease him about his different girlfriends, or so, as it seemed! In fact, the girl often wept in secret whenever she saw him with another girl, but she was too proud to admit it. Still, every Christmas, she returned, hoping to re-kindle some form of romance. But each time, she returned to Vancouver feeling disappointed.

Finally she decided that she could not play that game any longer. Therefore, she confronted him and professed that after all those years, he was still the only man that she had ever loved. Although the guy knew of her feelings for him, he was still taken back and have never expected her to react that way. He always thought that she would slowly forget about him over time and come to terms that it was all over between them. Although he was touched by her undying love for him and wanted so much to accept her again, he remembered why he rejected her in the first place-she was not the one he wanted. So he hardened his heart and turned her down cruelly. Since then, three years have passed and the girl never return anymore. They never even wrote to each other. The guy went on with his life….. still searching for the one but somehow deep inside him, he missed the girl.

On the Christmas of 1995, he went to his friend’s party alone. “Hey, how come all alone this year? Where are all your girlfriends? What happened to that Vancouver babe who joins you every Christmas?”, asked one of his friend. He felt warm and comforted by his friend’s queries about her, still he just surged on.
Then, he came upon one of his many girlfriends whom he once requested to pose as his steady. He wanted so much to ignore her ….. not that he was impolite, but because at that moment, he just didn’t feel comfortable with those girlfriends anymore. It was almost like he was being judged by them. The girl saw him and shouted across the floor for him. Unable to avoid her, he went up to acknowledge her.

“Hi……how are you? Enjoying the party?” the girl asked.

“Sure…..yeah!”, he replied.
She was slightly tipsy….. must be from the whiskey on her hand. She continued,
“Why…? Don’t you need someone to pose as your girlfriend this year?” Then he answered, “No, there is no need for that anymore….. .”
Before he can continue, he was interrupted, “Oh yes! Must have found a girlfriend! You haven’t been searching for one for the past years, right?” The man looked up, as if he has struck gold, his face beamed and looked directly at the drunken girl. He replied, “Yes……you are right! I haven’t been looking for anyone for the past years.”
With that, the man darted across the floor and out the door, leaving the lady in much bewilderment. He finally realized that he has already found his dream girl, and she was…..the Vancouver girl all along! The drunken lady has said something that awoken him.

All along he has found his girl. That was why he did not bother to look further when he realized she was not coming back. It was not any specific girl he was seeking! It was perfection that he wanted, and yes…..perfection! !
Relationship is something both parties should work on. Realizing that he had let away someone so important in his life, he decided to call her immediately. His whole mind was flooded with fear. He was afraid that she might have found someone new or no longer had the same feelings anymore….. For once, he felt the fear of losing someone.

As it was Christmas eve, the line was quite hard to get through, especially an overseas call. He tried again and again, never giving up. Finally, he got through….. .precisely at 1200 midnight. He confessed his love for her and the girl was moved to tears. It seemed that she never got over him! Even after so long, she was still waiting for him, never giving up.

He was so excited to meet her and to begin his new chapter of their lives. He decided to fly to Vancouver to join her. It was the happiest time of their lives! But their happy time was short-lived. Two days before he was supposed to fly to Vancouver, he received a call from her father. She had a head-on car collision with a drunken driver. She passed away after 6 hours in a coma.
The guy was devastated, as it was a complete loss. Why did fate played such cruel games with him? He cursed the heaven for taking her away from him, denying even one last look at her! How cruel he cursed! How he damned the Gods…!! How he hated himself….for taking so long to realize his mistake!! That was in 1996.

The moral of this story is :
Treasure what you have…
Time is too slow for those who wait;
Too swift for those who fear;
Too long for those who grief;
Too short for those who rejoice;
But for those who love…
Time is Eternity.

For all you out there with someone special in your heart, cherish that person, cherish every moment that you spend together that special someone, for in life, anything can happen anytime. You may painfully regret, only to realise that it is too late.