Subject: The Right Place...{Insp}
From: Unicorn (unicorn@indenial.com)
Date: Sun May 28 2000 - 02:32:22 EDT
<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Copyright Notice <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>
The inspirational piece "How Mothers Are Made," which
was sent out on May 21, is written by Erma Bombeck
and is printed in FOREVER ERMA.
If you ever see copyrighted info on Joke du Jour, PLEASE
let me know so I can credit the writer or publisher.
Please do not submit copyrighted material. Thank you!
<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Copyright Notice <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>
"The Right Place..."
G-d has a way of allowing us to be in the right place
at the right time. I was walking down a dimly lit street
late one evening when I heard muffled screams
coming from behind a clump of bushes. Alarmed,
I slowed down to listen and panicked when I realized
that what I was hearing were the unmistakable sounds
of a struggle: heavy grunting, frantic scuffling and
tearing of fabric. Only yards from where i stood, a
woman was being attacked. Should I get involved?
I was frightened for my own safety and cursed
myself for having suddenly decided to take a new
route home that night.
What if I became another statistic? Shouldn't I just
run to the nearest phone and call the police?
Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations
in my head had taken only seconds, but already
the cries were growing weaker. I knew I had to
act fast. How could I walk away from this? No,
I finally resolved, I could not turn my back on the
fate of this unknown woman, even if it meant risking
my own life.
I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don't
know where I found the moral courage and
physical strength--but once I had finally resolved
to help the girl, I became strangely transformed.
I ran behind the bushes and pulled the assailant
off the woman. Grappling, we fell to the round,
where we wrestled for a few minutes until the
attacker jumped up and escaped. Panting hard,
I scrambled upright and approached the girl, who
was crouched behind a tree, sobbing. In the
darkness, I could barely see her outline, but I
could certainly sense her trembling shock. Not
wanting to frighten her further, I at first spoke
to her from a distance.
"It's OK," I said soothingly. "The man ran away.
You're safe now."
There was a long pause and then I heard the
words, uttered in wonder, in amazement.
"Dad, is that you?"
And then, from behind the tree, stepped my
youngest daughter, Katherine.
Do all the good you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as you ever can.
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b28 : Thu Jun 01 2000 - 00:00:03 EDT