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The Phone Call by Don Fraser I was watching television in my living room when the telephone rang. When I said "Hello!", an elderly ladies voice asked. "Is Blanch available?" I answered that Blanch was my mother and she had died three years ago. "Oh dear!" The voice said. I so wanted to tell her 'this is her son'. The was a click and all I could hear was a dial tone. I dialed star 69 and they gave me the number of who-ever had phoned, I dialled and I was connected. "Maason Almagamated. How may I direct your call?" I explained the circumstances to the lady that answered, and she told me that all long distance calls went through her: none had been placed that morning. I thanked her and hung up, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I thought about it for about an hour, then I remembered I had some things of my mothers in the attic. I went up the dark stairs. "Damn!" I cussed, as I tripped in the dark. "Some day I'm going to put a light on these damn stairs." I reached the attic and straight in front of me were my mother's things. I don't know what possessed me, but I started rummaging through her keepsakes. I saw an old box that looked like it had some letters in it, and sitting on top was a letter addressed to me! My mother fancied herself as a fortune-teller and, for as long as I can remember, she had told people's fortunes with playing cards. She never told me mine, and when I would ask her why, she would always say " you don't want to know the future" and I'd let it go at that. With trembling fingers, I opened the letter that was addressed to me. It read:
Dear Son, I am writing this letter to you with tears in my eyes as, within three years from this date, you are going to have a devastating stroke. You won't have the life that you live now. You won't die, but you will be paralysed for the rest of your life. I knew this terrible thing would happen to you and it saddened me too much to read your cards. Love Mom.
With tears in my eyes I started for the stairs but I fell to the floor, and coudn't get up. I crawled to the top of the stairs and slithered down. My wife found me at the bottom and called an ambulance. The doctor said that I had had a stroke, and I would be paralysed for the rest of my life. Thank you Mom, for not telling me during your life and thank you for trying to warn me. I can only thank God for allowing me to raise my children before this dreadful thing happened to me. The End. ****************************************** My Park by Don Fraser I just got back from seeing a wonder of my Maker. It is the beautiful Forest Park in my neighborhood. I ride along on my electric cart, gazing at the wonders that suround me. The trees reach so high they seem to be reaching for the Hand of God. All about me, as I ride down a planned path, are wonderful shrubs, hiding the cottontails from view. Look! There is a red squirrel, he must be gathering his nuts and food for winter. There is a rose garden in the park. Oh! What a fragrance it produces. People are playing their games on the well-kept grass and lovers are on the benches, kissing. What a joy it is to go for a summer's evening ride in my park. The winters are cold here in the northwest. It rains a lot, but I can wait for spring and summer to arrive. I look out my window, and, when it looks all right, I will ride in my park once more. It may be my last ride. You never know what God has in store for you! I would like to say goodbye to the trees and shrubbery, and the green grass. Also the birds on the wing, the cottontails, and the squirrels that cross my path before I leave this beautiful park. Thank you, the men and women that made it possible. But mostly, thank you God! The End.
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