Ripped from the Ice                                        Story Editor:
by Effie Fotiadis                                        Clayton Bennett
Pennsylvania, USA

At the young age of six I had a horrible accident that could have taken
my life. It was a "snow day" from school that cold February morning that is, there was so much snow that school was cancelled. My family and I decided to go sledding.
We were having such a blast -- going down the big hills, swooping from left to right, and gaining a lot of speed. I was amazed at the sledding tricks the older kids were doing on the hill. After a while, I finally got the courage to try the "big" hill myself. I convinced my mother I knew what I was doing, and walked all the way up the hill.
I stared down the hill, totally full of excitement, took a running
start, jumped on my saucer sled and took off. But the hill was way too much for me to handle. Halfway down the hill I lost total control not realizing I was getting closer and closer to the pond at the bottom. Closing my eyes as my sled zoomed downward, I felt myself -- and the
sled -- leave the ground. I was airborne. I held on tight as I flew off a huge drainpipe and into the ice-covered pond. The four layers of clothing I had on made it difficult for me to move, and I sank into the icy water.
When I thought the water had taken me under forever, all of a sudden, I felt a pair of hands grab my hood. I was ripped from the ice by an older gentleman who was at the bottom of the hill watching his children. He got me out of the water and began helping me take off my freezing clothes. I had no idea what was going on because I was also frozen with fear. I heard my mom's voice in the distance crying out my name. As a crowd
gathered around me offering their warm clothes, the gentleman who saved me was pushed to the side. At the time, I didn't realize what that stranger did for me -- but if he wasn't there, who knows what else could have happened.
11 years later in my high school English class, a girl my age began to tell a story about how her dad had saved a young girl's life while she was sledding. I was shocked. The story matched mine exactly. I didn't want to interrupt in class but as soon as the bell rang I was asking questions. She could not believe I was that little girl. He had never known my name, and we had never known who he was. I was so happy to be able to meet him 11 years later and give him the thanks I never could before. He gave me the rest of my life, and I am still grateful.

The Lost Wallet

(scroll below for a "What kind of soul are you?" quiz)

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.

It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him anymore because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?"

She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me.

I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with you."

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!"

"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.

"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us."

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television."

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired oldtimer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael."

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."

"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?"

I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet."

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times."

"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.

"He's one of the oldtimers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!"

"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?"

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward."

"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet."

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"

"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."

He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged.

"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, Mister? I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her."

"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?"

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?"

She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be."

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

--Author unknown

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Take a quiz! What kind of soul are you? http://kelly.moranweb.com/quiz/soul/

My results: 

Passionate

You're excited about life and in touch with yourself and nature. Tell me, do I have this straight?

Virtues: You appreciate humor like none other. Puns might even spark laughter in you (TEHY R FUNNI). You seek adventure and connection with your surroundings. You seek friends who will not only share laughs with you but actually form a deep bond of trust and empathy beneath the surface. You look for adventure and courage in people, and variation is necessary to keep you under control. You see yourself as multi-faceted, so you need people who can see you in your many lights. You're constantly trying to figure yourself out while analyzing the people around you. Silly, silly people.

Aspirations: You can't decide what you want to be yet, but you know you want it to be adventures and interesting, with constant changes. You don't know what love will do for you yet, but it's competing with adventure for a place in your heart. An internal conflict has begun: can you be a successful worker, lover, and parent all at once?

Quirks: Noise of any sort is irritating when you're in the mood. Smacking gum, loud chewing, humming- it's about as pleasing as bodily noises. You dislike emaciated people because of jealousy and just plain disgust. You're a procrastinator but a hard worker, too.

Factors: You need constant attention and support. You're high-maintnence, but a great, reliable friend. Nature needs you and you need nature; it's helped thus far, so keep in touch with the outside world.

Future: Who knows! You absolutely need constant change, so vacationing is surely in the cards. Will you settle down or not? Love will find you eventually, as it does to everyone. Will you choose the sweet home life or the rewarding busy-bee life?

Alicia-Special thanks!

"There is a remarkable scene in the book Our Kinship with the Animals.
Gary Kowolski, a Unitarian minister and animal rights advocate,
describes the observations of a zoologist who was caught early one evening by
the splendor of an incredible sunset in an African rain forest. While he
was appreciating the moment, he saw a lone chimpanzee come into the
scene, cradling a papaya close to his body.

The chimp paused at an opening between the trees that provided an
especially impressive view. "For a full fifteen minutes, the animal remained
spellbound by the spectacle of the changing colors of the dusk and
watched them without moving."

Then something wonderful happened, something that could help civilized
humans become more aware of their own primal source and that of other
life forms as well. The chimp, after his motionless observance of the
setting sun, gently placed his papaya on the ground where he stood and
left it there, heading back into the thicket, as silent as the evening
breeze....
Something sacred and mysterious connects us all, human and nonhuman,
corporeal and incorporeal beings alike, and these moments of recognition
occur among a great diversity of life forms in Time and Space, moments
when that sacred union, that sense of ineffable Oneness, is pronounced
and appreciated and realized.

It is natural in these moments to offer something in gratitude."

This article was excerpted from The Book of Ceremonies, by Gabriel
Horn.