Animal Stories

Animal Stories Animal Stories The Baja Animal Sanctuary is located in Rosarito, Mexico, just 22 miles south of the San Ysidro border. She knew she had to do something.
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The sanctuary was founded by Sunny Benedict a native New Yorker, who was working in Real Estate in Rosarito. From her office window, Sunny would see the local animals, mangy and starving roaming the streets in search of anyone who might toss them a morsel of food, or give them a kind pat on the head. With a mere $180.00 she gathered from friends, she turned her dream into reality and started the B

aja Animal Sanctuary. BAS, the only no-kill shelter in northern Mexico, provides a safe haven for dogs, cats, and presently, one beautiful horse. Rescued from the streets of Mexico, they now receive food, medical care, and love for the rest of their lives. Once the puppies are old enough, or the sick ones are well enough they are spayed/neutered. Our ultimate goal is to find each and every one of them a forever home. When this can’t be accomplished, since we are a no-kill shelter, the animals that are “un-adoptable” will make BAS their permanent home. In some extreme cases, untreatable dogs and cats are euthanized to put an end to their pain and/or suffering. The Baja Animal Sanctuary was officially incorporated in the year 2000. BAS is recognized by the IRS as a 501(c)(3), not-for profit corporation, qualified to receive tax-deductible donations. The sanctuary receives NO assistance from theMexican government. Our survival depends entirely upon contributions from concerned animal lovers.

So a lot of people like this picture. So I wanted to take a minute to tell the story. Milton West was my childhood next ...
07/04/2025

So a lot of people like this picture. So I wanted to take a minute to tell the story. Milton West was my childhood next door neighbor. I knew him as Mr. Chip. He retired from DOW chemical as an operator. He has always been there for me since I was two years old.
Growing up without a father was always difficult for me. But the good lord surrounded me with great men, Mr.Chip was one of them. He constantly preached the value of an education, taught me how to take care of a yard, he taught me to see people for who they are not what they look like, he taught me how to treat my mother like a saint and many other life lessons. His contributions to me becoming a good son, man and father were huge.
I am forever grateful for God putting him in my life.
So this past May my wife and I had a little boy named Bob Wayne Shugart. When Mr. Chip and his wife Shirley saw him they fell in love with him. They babysit him sometimes and we go and visit when we can. The last time we were over there Mr. Chip said he wants to be called “POP”. He says that’s his grandson. So we had to come up with a name for his wife. We decided on Lolli!!!!
So we tell Bob Wayne we are going to see Lolli Pop!!! I’m grateful that Lolli and Pop will be apart of my sons life. If he learns half the things from Mr . Chip as I did he will become a great son, man and father.
Everyday I read something negative and how race relations are worse than ever. I disagree and I hope this is a positive loving message to many people. This is just one story in little ol Victoria, Texas. I m sure there are millions of similar stories across the United States.
Credit: Cody Shugart

Just a twist-Davy Crockett's older sister, Effie Crockett was invited to help some mothers in the Muskogee Tribe. Once s...
07/04/2025

Just a twist-
Davy Crockett's older sister, Effie Crockett was invited to help some mothers in the Muskogee Tribe. Once she arrived in camp, Effie laughed at what she saw. The Muskogee Tribe had a custom of cradlng their pappooses among the swaying branches of birch trees. This protected their babies from ground insects, the sun, and wild animals.
After first finding it funny, she soon learned all the great reasons for this practice and marveled at the beauty of it.
Effie watched the swaying and soothing motion of the topmost branches of the trees. She loved how each baby enjoyed nature, how they listened to the songbirds, observed every ladybug, and smiled at the colors of a butterfly, every little breeze was felt and enjoyed by these young ones; each babe seemd perfectly content.
One of the Tribal mothers began to sing a song to the children in her native tongue. As the Muskogee mother sang, Miss Effie observed a small tear running down the mother’s cheek.
Lulu se pepe i le pito i luga o le laau,
A agi le matagi e luluina le moega pepe,
A gau le lala e paʻu ai le moega pepe,
Ma o le a sau i lalo pepe, moega pepe ma mea uma.
Effie translated the words and kept the tune. She shared it with everyone and it soon became a wildly popular nursery rhyme among the Colonies.
The English translation:
Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
Why did the Muskogee mother cry?
A “bough” is simply a tree branch, and its breaking was used by the Muskogee mothers as an analogy of their little baby growing up.
Their little baby would soon outgrow his cradle. With each gently rocking wind, time was passing. One day, little baby would no longer need the protection of his mother. One day, the “branch” would break because her little baby had become too heavy. The “cradle” would fall to the earth – the child, no longer a baby, would dust himself off and grow into a man.
The now famous lullaby was first printed in Mother Goose’s Melody in London in 1765.
The actual origin and meaning of the rhyme has been subjects of various theories and folklore, but none of them have been conclusively provn.

I love this"Today was a Difficult Day," said Pooh.There was a pause."Do you want to talk about it?" asked Piglet."No," s...
07/04/2025

I love this
"Today was a Difficult Day," said Pooh.
There was a pause.
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Piglet.
"No," said Pooh after a bit. "No, I don't think I do."
"That's okay," said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend.
"What are you doing?" asked Pooh.
"Nothing, really," said Piglet. "Only, I know what Difficult Days are like. I quite often don't feel like talking about it on my Difficult Days either.
"But goodness," continued Piglet, "Difficult Days are so much easier when you know you've got someone there for you. And I'lI always be here for you, Pooh."
And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his Difficult Day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his little legs. He thought that his best friend had never been more right.
Text Credit Goes Owner🫡

“This is Patrick. He is 86 and he stopped me in Leeds yesterday to ask me how my day was. He then asked if by any chance...
07/04/2025

“This is Patrick. He is 86 and he stopped me in Leeds yesterday to ask me how my day was. He then asked if by any chance I had time for a coffee. Meetings cancelled – I spent 2 hours with the most wonderful man. He opened doors for me, told me about his marriage to his late wife and shared pictures of his family. He said that when he married his wife, he told her “the best is yet to come”…and that he still lives by that now. Patrick was the perfect reminder that amongst the hustle and bustle of everyday life and work, time really is the greatest gift to give someone. It was the best gift I’ve received in years.”
Credit: Emily Kellett🥰🥰

This random guy walked up to me while I was at the mall with my grand baby sitting at the table.He said excuse me ma’am ...
07/04/2025

This random guy walked up to me while I was at the mall with my grand baby sitting at the table.He said excuse me ma’am I replied yes sir. He said my grand baby is in Houston hospital fighting for her life. He said he was always told, if you see a need plant a seed. He handed me a 100 dollars and stated he wanted to plant a seed with me for his grand baby. He said ma’am please go get that baby something for Christmas for me from my grand baby, Merry Christmas 😭😭😭. Please keep him and his grand baby lifted in prayer. Just thought I would share.I know I have some real prayer warriors down my timeline.

He bought a dead island for 13 thousand dollars, equipped the island with endangered animals, birds and trees. They offe...
07/04/2025

He bought a dead island for 13 thousand dollars, equipped the island with endangered animals, birds and trees. They offered 50 million dollars, he did not sell it and donated it.
In 1962, newspaper editor Brendon Grimshaw bought the uninhabited island of Moyenne in the Seychelles, where no human had set foot for 50 years, for 13 thousand dollars.
He began to live on the island like a real Robinson, taking with him companions from the locals.
His name was "Rene Lafortin".
Brendon and Rene started to equip the island.
Over 39 years, Brendon and Rene planted 16 thousand trees with their own hands and built approximately 5 km of road.
In 1996 he wrote a book about himself and the island called Grain of Sand.
A documentary of the same name was made about Grimshaw and the island in 2009.
In 2007, Rene Lafortin died and Brendon was left alone on the island.
He was 81 years old. During his lifetime, he attracted 2000 new bird species to the island and introduced more than a hundred giant tortoises to the world, which were about to become extinct, including the Seychelles.
Thanks to Brendon's efforts, the once deserted island is now home to two-thirds of the Seychelles fauna. An abandoned piece of land turned into a real paradise.
A few years ago, the prince of Saudi Arabia offered Brendon Grimshaw $50 million for the island, which Brendon politely declined.
“I don't want the island to become a favorite vacation spot for the rich.
"Let it be a national park where everyone and animals can live and have fun freely."
He finally achieved his wish.
In 2008, the island was indeed declared a "National Park".
Grimshaw was the sole resident of the island until his death in July 2012.
"Wanting" is not just about saying "I want".
You can achieve results by doing what you can afford, step by step, sometimes for years.
Never expect such a thing from children who have been accustomed to being ready since childhood, or do not accustom your children to being so ready so that they can learn to make the world a better place.

FORGIVE ME, MOMMY 😞🐾️I was there where you left me for two whole days. Sleeping right on the side of the road. I was ter...
07/03/2025

FORGIVE ME, MOMMY 😞🐾️
I was there where you left me for two whole days. Sleeping right on the side of the road. I was terrified of the noise from the cars but I did not move.
Last night one of those cars stopped and she got out. She invited me to lunch but I said no. She invited me to come sleep at her house and I also said no. I tried to explain to her that I was waiting for you but she wouldn’t listen. She pulled out a leash and said I couldn’t stay there any longer. I bit her several times and ended up peeing on myself as I growled and cried! She didn’t understand that she was separating me from you! She took me against my will and we drove off! I was so sad because I knew you were going to be worried. We ended up at her house.
I kept screaming hoping you would hear me but you never came. I vomited because of my nerves, feeling so sick. I kept telling her I had to go back because you were going to think I abandoned you when you saw I wasn’t there! I, who love you with all my heart and soul have not stopped crying since we separated a few days ago. I want you to know, I would never do that to you.
I don’t know where you are now or why you stopped the car and left me there. Surely you had something very important to do. Can you come find me now, mommy?
Today I ate because my tummy was hurting. I also slept on a very soft bed. And by accident I also wiggled my tail a bit. I’m so sorry, please forgive me. She’s just being really nice to me. She said I could stay forever. She’s calling me Milo but I already have a name. When you pick me up you can tell it to her. You’ll see how surprised she’ll be when you explain to her that this was a big mistake.
Because mommy, you’re coming back for me, right.? 😢🐾
Author unknown ✍️
"Pets are not disposable when we don’t want/need them anymore. They are a lifetime commitment. They are family! Thank you so much to everyone who adopts and rescues them until their last loving breath. Because of you this world is a better place."
Credit goes to respective owner

In the spring of 1964, 22-year-old Gail Wise was a third-grade teacher in Berkeley, Illinois, but little did she know, s...
07/03/2025

In the spring of 1964, 22-year-old Gail Wise was a third-grade teacher in Berkeley, Illinois, but little did she know, she was about to make history.
On April 15, 1964, Gail and her father walked into Johnson Ford on Cicero Avenue in Chicago, searching for the perfect convertible.
The family had always driven Fords—her father owned a ’57 Fairlane and a ’63 Thunderbird, so Gail knew exactly what she wanted. There was just one problem: there were no convertibles on the showroom floor.
Seeing her disappointment, the salesman took a chance and showed her something hidden in the back, under a tarp. What he revealed was none other than a "Skylight Blue" Ford Mustang convertible—the first of its kind.
The catch? It wasn’t supposed to be sold for two more days until after the official unveiling at the New York World’s Fair. No test drives allowed either. But Gail didn’t need one. The moment she saw it, she knew it was hers.
The price tag? $3,447.50. Her salary at the time? Just $5,000 a year. But with a loan from her father, Gail became the very first person in the United States to buy a Ford Mustang—two days before anyone else even saw one.
As she drove out of the showroom, heads turned, and people waved. It was as if she had become a celebrity overnight. The next day, she drove her Mustang to school, where the seventh and eighth graders swarmed the car, amazed at what they were seeing.
For the next 15 years, that Mustang was Gail’s pride and joy. She married Tom Wise in 1966, and they had four kids together.
The car became part of their family’s daily life, from McDonald’s runs with the kids to joyrides around town. Back in those days, seatbelts were only in the front seats, and the passenger seat didn’t even adjust.
Despite its quirks, the Mustang was an icon on the road, but after years of Chicago winters, the car began to show its age. Rust took over, and the engine started having problems.
By the late '70s, the Mustang’s glory days seemed over. Tom pushed it into the garage, planning to fix it the next week, but that week turned into 27 years. Gail, ready to move on, suggested scrapping the car, but Tom refused, calling it his retirement project.
In 2005, after retiring at 60, he finally began the long process of restoring the car. He stripped it down to almost nothing, leaving just the four wheels and the steering wheel before handing it off to specialists for bodywork and engine repair.
It took about a year and $35,000, but Tom brought the Mustang back to life, adding a custom horn that sounds like a whinnying horse for good measure.
When the restoration was complete, Tom started researching the car’s history. That’s when they realized Gail’s Mustang was the very first one ever sold in the U.S. It wasn’t long before Ford took notice.
The couple was invited to Mustang events, including the 10 millionth Mustang celebration in Dearborn, and even got the chance to drive the car at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
Though they don’t drive it much now, the Mustang remains a family treasure. Gail and Tom’s four kids haven’t expressed much interest in keeping it, so it will likely be sold when the time comes.
But for now, the first Mustang ever sold in the U.S. sits proudly in their garage, a testament to one couple’s journey through life and the car that’s been with them every step of the way.
Text Credit Goes Owner

Alas they've come for Dr. SEUSS, they wish to hang him with a noose. They claim his tales were racist bent, they judged ...
07/03/2025

Alas they've come for Dr. SEUSS, they wish to hang him with a noose. They claim his tales were racist bent, they judged him fast, missed what he meant.
But if we look inside his tales, you'll find the balance of the scales. Remember when Horton heard a Who, and we heard the wisdom of the Lorax too. The lesson behind Green Eggs and Ham, that changed the mind of Sam I am. Remember too the rotten Grinch, who once would never give an inch. He taught us lessons, one and all, boys and girls, big and small.
So if you've judged his works as poor, you should re- read them, I implore. The man we know as Dr. SEUSS, turned our imaginations loose. His impact was beyond compare, he taught us it was good to care. To accept the red, the blue, the green, and on each other we can lean.
So if you still won't give an inch, your heart has hardened like the Grinch. Release the grudge, the hate, the rue, and embrace the hope of Cindy Lou.
We support the Seuss!!! 💥🤓

At a bustling Hollywood party in the mid-1940s, Peter Lorre lingered near the bar, clutching his drink, his demeanor mar...
07/03/2025

At a bustling Hollywood party in the mid-1940s, Peter Lorre lingered near the bar, clutching his drink, his demeanor marked by nervousness and detachment. Observing his friend’s quiet unease, Humphrey Bogart approached and softly remarked, “You might be small in stature, but your heart is the largest in this room.” This simple line, later remembered in Charlotte Chandler’s Nobody’s Perfect, wasn’t meant to be theatrical—it was just Bogart being true to himself: tough outwardly, yet deeply loyal inside.

Their friendship had its roots years before, likely forged during the filming of The Maltese Falcon in 1941. While their characters on screen were often suspicious and tense, off-camera they shared camaraderie, laughter, and a mutual understanding. Lorre, frequently cast as the odd or sinister figure, was emotionally vulnerable beneath his roles, whereas Bogart, known for his sharp wit and rebellious image, instinctively shielded those he cared about.

Hollywood’s harshness was unforgiving to someone like Lorre. His distinctive accent, striking appearance, and unwillingness to conform relegated him to character roles in the studio system. Beyond the camera, he struggled with depression and addiction, slipping into moods that made others uneasy. Yet Bogart never abandoned him. Friends recall that when Lorre withdrew at social gatherings, Bogart would stay by his side, lighting a cigarette and saying, “No need to talk. Let’s just be together.”

Their connection was more than friendship—it was profound. During the tense production of Casablanca (1942), Bogart was under pressure transitioning into a romantic lead, while Lorre battled personal demons despite his small part. They often met late at night, whether in Bogart’s dressing room or home, sharing quiet drinks and conversations.

Lauren Bacall once remarked that Bogart was selective about his close circle, and Lorre remained one of the few constants. Bacall remembered evenings when Lorre would sit cross-legged on their living room floor, nursing a drink he seldom finished, while Bogart playfully coaxed him, “Say something dark, Peter. But make it funny.”

As Lorre’s addiction worsened in the late 1940s, studio offers dwindled. His once energetic frame weakened, and his performances became unpredictable. Still, Bogart continued inviting him to dinner, even if Lorre canceled last minute or arrived exhausted. Bogart’s home, a refuge for fellow outsiders like John Huston and Frank Sinatra, was always open to Lorre without question.

Their friendship was never publicly proclaimed. Bogart didn’t seek interviews to highlight his support for Lorre, but his actions spoke volumes. In 1953, during one of Lorre’s lowest points, Bogart reportedly called him multiple times just to check in. When asked why, Bogart simply said, “He’s my friend. That’s all that matters.”

Lorre survived Bogart by only a few years. At Bogart’s funeral in 1957, Lorre stood quietly apart, hands in pockets, eyes downcast. A journalist noted his silence and discreet departure, but those who knew them understood—Lorre had already said his farewells in countless quiet moments long before. Peter Lorre passed away in 1964 at the age of 59.

Bogart’s friendship was understated, built on small acts, silent companionship, and unwavering loyalty. For a man like Peter Lorre, that kind of steadfast friendship was nothing less than a lifeline.

In 1979, Lucille Ball quietly entered the home of Vivian Vance in Belvedere, California, fully aware that this visit wou...
07/03/2025

In 1979, Lucille Ball quietly entered the home of Vivian Vance in Belvedere, California, fully aware that this visit would mark their final meeting. Vivian was gravely ill, battling bone cancer, and when Lucille saw her friend weakened and bedridden, her heart shattered. The two women, who had once brought joy and laughter to countless Americans, simply embraced and wept together. No words were exchanged; after years filled with both joy and pain, their silence spoke volumes. It was a farewell steeped in sorrow, affection, and a profound, unspoken understanding.

Their friendship had its roots back in 1951 when they were cast as co-stars on the groundbreaking show I Love Lucy. Lucille, already a veteran in the entertainment world and co-producer of the show alongside her husband Desi Arnaz, held the reins of casting decisions. She recognized that the chemistry between Lucy and Ethel would be pivotal to the show’s success. When Vivian arrived for her audition, Lucille had never heard of her before. Yet, as they read lines together, an undeniable spark ignited. Their comedic timing and natural rapport blended seamlessly, prompting Desi to lean over and quietly say, “That’s Ethel.”

Vivian’s elegance and poise, nearly matching Lucille’s own age, initially worried the producers. They feared she was too glamorous to convincingly portray the dowdy neighbor. But Lucille stood firm, insisting, “I don’t want a mere sidekick. I want a partner who can stand toe-to-toe.” Vivian rose to that challenge, becoming not just a comedic partner but a lifelong confidante.

Off-camera, their friendship grew stronger through the long hours of filming. Vivian had faced a difficult marriage and struggled with mental health, while Lucille grappled with the pain caused by Desi’s infidelities. They shared their vulnerabilities, traveled together, and found solace in laughter despite exhaustion. Though rumors of friction between them occasionally surfaced in the press, those close to them knew the truth: their relationship was grounded in brutal honesty, even when it was painful. They argued, reconciled, and stood steadfastly by one another through both joyous and trying times.

One afternoon in the 1950s, Vivian was overcome with anxiety in her dressing room. Lucille stayed by her side, holding her hand for hours without leaving. On another occasion, after a difficult taping, Lucille removed her wig backstage and confessed, “Viv, if you weren’t here, I don’t know if I could keep doing this.” Vivian responded with a silent embrace, offering comfort without words.

Even after I Love Lucy ended in 1957 and The Lucy Show began in 1962—with Vivian returning as Vivian Bagley—their special connection endured. Vivian eventually stepped away in 1965, seeking a different path after years of relentless work. Yet, their friendship remained alive through phone calls, letters, and unexpected visits.

When Vivian’s cancer diagnosis came in the late 1970s, Lucille was heartbroken. She visited her friend several times, but their final meeting in 1979 was especially poignant. Though Vivian’s condition had worsened, her face brightened upon seeing Lucille. They sat quietly, hands clasped, sharing a moment beyond words. Vivian’s sister Dorothy later recalled, “They just gazed at each other, cried, and held on tight. They both knew it was the end. That silence conveyed more than any words ever could.”

Vivian Vance passed away on August 17, 1979. Upon hearing the news, Lucille reportedly sat in her living room in stunned silence before softly saying, “My Viv is gone.” She chose not to attend the funeral, fearing she would break down in public, but sent flowers and a heartfelt note that read, “I’ll never forget you. I never could.”

Years later, when asked about their friendship during a rare interview, Lucille paused thoughtfully before saying, “People talk about scripts and call it television magic. But what I shared with Viv—that was real. That was the true magic.”

In their final embrace, two women who had brought laughter to millions shared a private, tearful farewell. It was the quiet closing scene of a lifelong performance, meant only for the hearts that truly understood.

PLEASE READ ❤️The Black TelephoneThose of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the...
07/03/2025

PLEASE READ ❤️
The Black Telephone
Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.
When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked
"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.
She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice.
"How do I spell fix?" I asked
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.
"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.
"Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle .
A different voice answered, "Information."
I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "
"Yes." I answered.
Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?
~Borrowe

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