I WISH YOU ENOUGH
THE GOLDEN BOX

Wanda's Pine Tree Crosses

KIDS SAY THE NICEST THINGS
A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to
8-year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader
and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think. . .

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint
her
toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even
when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca - age 8

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You
know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne
and they go out and smell each other." Karl - age 5

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French
fries without making them give you any of theirs." Chrissy - age 6

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip
before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." Danny -
age 7

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening
presents and listen." Bobby - age 5

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend
who
you hate." Nikka - age 6

"There are two kinds of love. Our love and God's love. But God makes
both of them." Jenny - age 4

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every
day." Noelle - age 7

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still
friends even after they know each other so well." Tommy - age 6

"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing
me to sleep at night." Clare - age 5

"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken." Elaine -
age 5

"Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is
handsomer than Robert Redford." Chris - age 8

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone
all day." Mary Ann - age 4

"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old
clothes
and has to go out and buy new ones." Lauren - age 4

"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only picks on
me
because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her."
Bethany - age 4

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars
come out of you." Karen - age 7

"Love is when mommy sees daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's
gross." Mark - age 6

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you
mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." Jessica - age 8

I WISH YOU ENOUGH
Recently, I overheard a Mother and daughter in their last moments 
together at a regional airport. They had announced her departure and 
standing near the security gate, they hugged and she said, "I love you. 
I wish you enough."

She in turn said, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. 
Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They 
kissed and she left.

She walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there, I 
could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her 
privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye 
to someone knowing it would be forever?"

"Yes, I have," I replied.

"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?" I asked.

"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and 
the reality is, the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.

"When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, "I wish you enough." 
May I ask what that means?" She began to smile. "That's a wish that 
has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it 
to everyone."

She paused for a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in
detail, she smiled even more.

"When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to 
have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them," she 
continued. Then, turning toward me, she shared the following as if she 
were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much
bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."

She then began to sob and walked away.

THE GOLDEN BOX (Author Unknwon)
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. 
College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In 
fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of 
his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had 
little time to think about the past and often no time to 
spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, 
and nothing could stop him. 

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died 
last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed 
through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly 
remembering his childhood days. 

"Jack, did you hear me?" 

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long 
since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought 
he died years ago," Jack said. 

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd 
ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent 
over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him. 

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said. 

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser 
stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she 
said. 

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I 
wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot 
of 
time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be 
there 
for the funeral," Jack said. 

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the 
next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was 
small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and 
most of his relatives had passed away. 

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom 
stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. 

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It 
was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap 
through space and time. The house was exactly as he 
remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every 
piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly. 

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked. 

"The box is gone," he said. 

"What box? " Mom asked. 

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top 
of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what 
was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value 
most,'" Jack said. 

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how 
Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone 
from the Belser family had taken it. 

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack 
said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight 
home, Mom." 

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. 
Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in 
his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at 
home. Please stop by the main post office within the next 
three days," the note read. 

Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small 
box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred 
years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the 
return address caught his attention. 

"Mr. Harold Belser" it read. 

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the 
package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. 
Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside. 

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents 
to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." 
A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as 
tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. 
There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. 
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, 
he unlatched the cover. 

Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for 
your time! Harold Belser." 

"The thing he valued most...was...my time." 

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his 
office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. 
"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. 

"I need some time to spend with my son," he said. 

"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!" 

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take 
but by the moments that take our breath away,"