Messages from the Masters
Mr. Jim Rohn once shared the idea of learning how to live life in unique ways. I think the following story may help illustrate the point he was trying to make.
When his schedule allowed, my brother Dave would stop by and visit our Grandmother on his way home from work. It is hard to make a commitment like this but Dave managed to do it. I know my Grandmother appreciated the visits and I'm sure my brother got some good from them as well. Both shared similar interests; one of them was growing vegetables and herbs in their gardens.
One day, Dave went to visit her but found the house empty. Out of business cards, he looked around for something to leave that would let her know he had come by. In her garden he found a chunk of dirt and carefully placed it on her porch.
Later that day, Grandmother came home with a couple of her friends. "Who would leave a chunk of dirt on the porch like that?" one of them asked. Grandmother knew right away who had done it. The chunk of dirt became my brother's "calling card." Whenever he would come to visit and find her gone, he would leave his unique calling card and Grandmother always knew he had been by.
Dave's idea was simple, free and yet said so much. Our Grandmother told everyone about that chunk of dirt. She was really touched by his simple gesture. But, as Paul Harvey would say, "Here is...the rest of the story."
Although my Grandmother had lived a long, healthy and active life, she died at the age of 94. We were all saddened by her death but my brother Dave was heart broken. His life long friend was gone. At her funeral my two brothers, cousins and I were pallbearers for our Grandmother.
At the burial site, the funeral director instructed us to place our white gloves and lapel flower on our Grandmother's casket before she was to be lowered to her final resting place. One by one each of us paid our final respects. Dave went before me and as he approached her I saw him bend down and pick up something. As I went to place my gloves and flower, my eyes filled with tears when I saw the chunk of dirt carefully placed on my Grandmothers casket. Dave had left her his calling card for the final time.Is it worth the effort to live a unique life? I can hear my Grandmother's resounding "Yes!" This article was submitted by Steve Kendall.