Childhood Doesn't Wait

I was sitting on a bench
while in a nearby mall,
When I noticed a young mother
with two children who were small.

The youngest one was whining,
"Pick me up," I heard him beg
but the mother's face grew angry
as the child clung to her leg.

"Don't hang on to me," she shouted
as she pushed his hands away,
I wish I'd had the courage
to go up to her and say...

"The time will come too quickly
when those little arms that tug,
Won't ask for you to hold them
or won't freely give a hug.

"The day will sneak up subtly
just as it did with me,
When you can't recall the last time
that your child sat on your knee.

"Like those sacred, pre-dawn feedings
when we cherished time alone
Our babies grow and leave behind
those special times we've known.

"So when your child comes to you
with a book that you can share,
Or asks that you would tuck him in
and help him say his prayer...

"When he comes to sit and chat
or would like to take a walk,
Before you answer that you can't
`cause there's no time to talk.

"Remember what all parents learn
so many times too late,
That years go by too quickly
and that childhood doesn't wait.

"Take every opportunity,
if one should slip away
Reach hard to get it back again,
don't wait another day."

I watched that mother walk away
her children followed near,
I hope she'll pick them up
before her chances disappear..

A Change of Heart

It's the world we live in that made me feel that way. Otherwise I wouldn't have thought for a moment about sitting next to that beautiful young girl.

My recent trip to Kentucky ran smoothly except for a near two hour delay in Pittsburgh. I must admit I have never had a major problem while flying across this great country. In fact, I believe this was the first time I have ever experienced a delay that long.

But I always tell my travel agent that if ever I need to be delayed let it be in Pittsburgh. They have the greatest shops and restaurants to keep me busy for hours.

They finally announced boarding. Now I don't believe for a moment that I'm the only person who goes through this. From the moment I enter the plane I start scanning ahead to see my seat. "Who's sitting next to me on this flight?" I wonder. "Is there anyone in my seat already?" That's happened a few times. "Are there any screaming babies nearby?"

Flight time is precious time for me. I sleep, write or read. So screaming babies and frequent bathroom people become a problem.

Today I get to sit next to a beautiful young girl who appears to be about 12 years old. As I approach my seat she seems nervous, perhaps a little apprehensive and I must say very disappointed. You see walking in front of me was this handsome young male teenager. I could see that sparkle in her eye dim as he walked by and I sat down. I'll admit I was nervous and concerned. She was traveling alone and I was one of those strangers her parents told her not to talk to.

"Hi! My name is Bob," I said.

"Hello!" she replied without giving her name.

Then we spent the next one hour and fifteen minutes not saying a word.

She was a typical kid. She never sat still for longer than five minutes. Often times she reached into her carry on and pulled out what appeared to be six brushes, four packs of gum and all the empty wrappers, a bag filled with jaw breakers, a tube of rainbow colored sugar crystals and three foot long licorice. Oh, yes she also ate two bags of airplane peanuts. I gave her mine.

It wasn't until the last 15 minutes of the flight that I heard it. That sweet sounding Voice that said "Give her one of your books!"

"She's only 12," I argued. "She won't find my book interesting. Do they even know how to read at 12?" I thought sarcastically.

But again and again I heard it repeat, "Give her one of your books!" And so I opened one up, signed it and said, "I am a professional speaker and author. I'd like to give you one of my books if you would permit me."

She giggled a bit and said yes followed by "Oh, thanks!"

I then began to explain the story.

"It's a fictional story based on actual events. I changed the names but basically much of this is true. My oldest son, Keith had cancer and that's part of this book."

"Oh, I'm sorry", she said. "No need to be. He's doing just fine, thank you. Where are you from?" I asked.

Then for the next ten minutes this young lady never stopped talking. In fact, as we were leaving the plane she talked and walked backwards down the aisle.

Much of what she said was all a blur for me after she said these words: "Wow, I just saw the Hershey Medical Center mentioned in there. Is that where your son went for his cancer treatments?" she asked.

I nodded "Yes."

"That's where I had my heart transplant," she said with a big smile.

Heart transplant. This child had a heart transplant. Then I took notice. Right at the top of her pink t-shirt, just below her collar bone, the beginnings of a scar peeked over her collar. This vibrant young, beautiful girl had the heart of a donor. Obviously a young donor who lived in a family who cared enough to save another child's life.

She continued to share the details of her stay at Hershey. I continued to listen in amazement. For the story she told was a familiar one. She was the girl down the hall we all prayed for. I never knew how things turned out for her until today.

They say some lives cross because they were meant to. This was more than a chance meeting. I discovered that this child leaving Pittsburgh to go home to Kentucky was a patient in the same hospital, on the same miraculous floor, at the same time my son was there. That little Voice inside of me kept telling me to give her a copy of my book. I argued. The Voice won...as always.

The last words she said to me was..."My Mom always told me that God was going to call me home but then He had a "Change of Heart!" Do you get it?" Then she giggled and laughed as she walked through the last door into the arms of her loving family.

I got it. I heard the Voice say, "Now you know why!"

"I believe in you!"