Salty Coffee

He met her at a party. She was outstanding; many guys were after her, but nobody paid any attention to him. After the party, he invited her for coffee. She was surprised. So as not to appear rude, she went along.

As they sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything and she felt uncomfortable. Suddenly, he asked the waiter, "Could you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee."

They stared at him. He turned red, but when the salt came, he put it in his coffee and drank. Curious, she asked, "Why put salt in the coffee?" He explained, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea. I liked playing on the seaside ... I could feel its taste salty, like salty coffee. Now every time I drink it, I think of my childhood and my hometown. I miss it and my parents, who are still there."

She was deeply touched. A man who can admit that he's homesick must love his home and care for his family. He must be responsible.

She talked too, about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was the start of their love story.

They continued to date. She found that he met all her requirements. He was tolerant, kind, warm and careful. And to think she would have missed the catch if not for the salty coffee!

So they married and lived happily together. And every time she made coffee for him, she put in some salt, the way he liked it.

After 40 years, he passed away and left her a letter which said:

My dearest, please forgive my life-long lie. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous I asked for salt instead of sugar.

It was hard for me to ask for a change, so I just went ahead. I never thought that we would hit it off. Many times, I tried to tell you the truth, but I was afraid that it would ruin everything.

Sweetheart, I don't exactly like salty coffee. But as it mattered so much to you, I've learned to enjoy it. Having you with me was my greatest happiness. If I could live a second time, I hope we can be together again, even if it means that I have to drink salty coffee for the rest of my life.

A fib

I was six years old, my sister, Sally Kay, was a submissive three-year-old girl. For some reasons, I thought we needed to earn some money. I decided we should "hire out" as maids. We visited the neighbors,  offering to clean houses for them for a quarter cents. Reasonable as our offer was, there were no takers. But one neighbor telephoned my mother to let her know what Mary Alice and Sally Kay were doing.
Mother had just hung up the phone when we came first into the back door into the kitchen of our apartment. "Girls," the mother asked, "why were you two going around the neighborhood telling people you would clean their houses?"  Mother wasn't angry with us. In fact, we learned afterward she was amused that we had come up with such an idea.


But, for some reason, we both denied having done any such thing. Shocked and terribly hurt that her dear little girls could be such "boldfaced liars". The mother then told us that Mrs. Jones had just called and told her we had been to her house and said we would clean it for a quarters cents.


Faced with the truth, we admitted what we had done. The mother said we have filed, we have not told the truth.  She was sure that we knew better. She tried to explain why a fib hurt, but she didn't feel that we really understood.


Years later, she told us that the lesson she came up with for trying to teach us to be truthful would probably have been found upon by child psychologists. The idea came to her in a flash, and a tender-hearted mother told us it was the most difficult lesson she ever taught us. It was a lesson we never forgot. After admonishing us, mother cheerfully begins preparing for lunch. As we munch on sandwiches, she asked:" Would you two like to go to see the movies this afternoon?"


"Wow, would we ever?" We wondered what movie would be playing. The mother said:"The Matinee".

"Oh, fatastic！ We would be going to see The Matinee, would we lucky?" We got bathed and all dressed up. It was like getting ready for a birthday party. We hurried outside the apartment, not wanting to miss the bus that would take us downtown. On the landing, Mom stunned us by saying, "Girls, we are not going to the movies today." We didn't hear her right.

"What?" we objected. "What do you mean? Aren't we going to The Matinee? Mommy, you said that we are going to the Matinee. " Mother stooped and gathered us in her arms. I couldn't understand why there were tears in her eyes. We still had the time to get the bus, but hugging us, she gently explained this is a fib felt like. "It is important that what we say is true, Mom said. "I fibbed to you just now and it felt awful to me. I don't ever want to fib again and I'm sure you don't want to fib again either. People must be able to believe each others. Do you understand? "



We assured her that we understood. We would never forget. And since we had learned a lesson, why not go to the movie to see The Matinee. There were still time. Not today. Mother told us. We would go another time. That is how over fifty years ago, my sister and I learned to be truthful. We have never forgotten how much a fib can be hurt.

Run through the rain

She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful brown haired, freckle-faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the Earth, it has no time to flow down the spout.

We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Wal-Mart. We all waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I get lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.

Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in, “Mom, let's run through the rain." she said.
。

"What?" Mom asked.

"Let's run through the rain!" She repeated.

"No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit." Mom replied.

This young child waited about another minute and repeated: "Mom, let's run through the rain."

”

"We'll get soaked if we do." Mom said.

"No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm."

"This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?"

"Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!"

”

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say.

Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith. "Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If get wet, well maybe we just needed washing." Mom said. Then off they ran.

We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories. So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories every day!

To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. I hope you still take the time to run through the rain.