She was just a slightly built woman. Couldn’t have been more than five foot one and maybe 105 pounds soaking wet. She had ice cold light blue eyes that peered out over the wire rimmed glasses that sat on her slightly hooked nose. I sometimes perceived it as a beak. She was just built that way.
She had been in the waitress business all her life. From my perspective, that seemed at least sixty years. In truth it was probably more like fifty. Youth can be so unforgiving of older folks. She had a shell that was built from all the years of dealing with the nastiness that this job can dish up. That is what made her special. I knew the outside was hard, impenetrable, and invincible but I also knew that inside there was a marshmallow heart. Don’t ask me how I knew this, I just did. I respected her for it. I was my secret. I knew she was really a softy, but had to have the shell for protection, for existence itself.
I kept my distance, just in case I was wrong.
We worked together for some time. She put up with most of my youthful blunders and misplaced priorities. Sure I needed the money but I had no intention of making this my career, so I had different feelings about the job. She knew this was all she would ever do as far as a working career was concerned and she did it well. No, she did it better than anyone I had ever seen. It was pure poetry in motion to see her handle a busy breakfast.
What’ll be Sam? The usual? Yeah, Terry, three eggs sunny side up, rye toast, no butter and lots of home fries and a cup of coffee. The coffee was in front of him before he finished his order and she waltzed into the kitchen singing his order: Nick give me three on one looking at you, whiskey dry, all the way. She loved it and it showed.
I loved it too, the show. She was great. Sometimes she would talk of her daughter and how she missed having her around. She passed away several years earlier leaving only memories for Terry. She would not talk about it much, but it was clear that the memory of her relationship with her daughter was a guiding force in her life. That’s how I knew she had a marshmallow heart filling up the hard exterior shell.
Once while admiring her ability I thought I would try a little conversation. I knew that you could make more money if you worked the dinner shift instead of breakfast. It was all percentages; the tab is bigger at night. Why don’t you work the dinner shift, I asked. She said she would never work the dinner shift again. There is a certain danger for a single woman to be coming and going at those odd hours. Her daughter begged her before she passed away to promise that she would never work the night shift, that she would never take that risk. She made that promise and was honoring it.
I enjoyed watching her deal with the cranky customers too. She could handle anything, or so it seemed. It was amazing this little skinny woman was ready to take on anyone at any time. The day she dealt with the grumpiest biggest nastiest looking guy I think I have
ever seen she won me over. I’ll never forget it. This guy was just looking for trouble and was the type who would really take advantage of someone who was smaller and weaker. It was clear he was going to be dishing out grief for Terry the entire time he was here, because he could. He was a steady customer but was much grumpier than usual; she took it in the beginning. But it seemed to get harder and harder for her to ignore his insulting comments. I was curious how she was going to handle the situation, it was clear that something had to give.
Then in the way that only she could do, she walked up to him and tilted her head up so she could look him right in the eye. She pointed her right index finger at his nose and shook it in a choppy up and down motion causing the loose skin on the back of her upper arm to shake back and forth and said…Joe you need to go and take a good poop for yourself, then you’ll feel better.
It was amazing. She tamed this giant of a man and by the time he was ready to leave they were laughing and joking like old friends. He left a tip larger than anyone in the place could recall him leaving and said something about seeing her tomorrow. When he left I had to tell her how impressed I was with what she had done. She replied that sometimes she had to play rough, but usually people just want to be noticed. I guess this one needed a two by four. It worked.
E Rossopoulos 2003
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
The Hands of God
Back in March of 1987 I was working for an accounting firm. It was the middle of “tax season” and my work life was about as demanding as it could possibly be. Every year at this time the same thoughts would creep into my mind: I have to get out of here, this is crazy, no one should have to work this hard, there must be a better way and others. My imagination must have really taken over because I had a dream that was so vivid, moving and inspiring, I still relive it after all these years.
It was short but powerful. Everything was black; there was no background. Then two hands appeared. The hands were very similar to the insurance company that uses the prop “you’re in good hands…” I looked at them as they first appeared before me; they grew very large and then I was sitting in the middle, being held. My mind heard the phrase “You are in the hands of God” and an enormous peace that flooded over me was indescribable. I looked and saw only hands. The wrists melted into the black background. I could not detect any arms or body attached to the hands. Three days later, (through all the tax returns) I still felt the peace. The pressure that I had been going through, seemed to become meaningless. Work was something I did, it no longer ruled my life. I was enveloped in a protective cocoon and the usual angst couldn’t touch me. Still, I had questions.
The one that kept repeating itself was “Why did I have such an awe-inspiring dream when things were not really that bad right now?” My logical mind just could not fathom it. I had been through much more demanding stuff in my life, why this dream? Why now? I had no answer. I accepted it with graciousness, but I had no answer. Years passed. I still had no answer. Finally, after mountains of rationalizing, I began to understand the dreams meaning. It started with the unraveling of the limits that I was placing on the dream: timing, current circumstances, pressure of day-to-day life and detachment.
Every book that I had read on interpreting dreams and their meaning had to do with where one was in life; it is a reflection of all that is going on around you. That was the smoke screen. This dream had nothing to do with what was going at that time; it was much grander in scope. I needed to become an historian and I needed to live a little more. Meditation on how events unfolded, how things always seem to work out and how bitterness did not poison my mind played a large part in revealing the true meaning. Two years after my husband passed away and I went through the metamorphosis of becoming me all over again, it dawned on me. I still have my sanity, my sense of humor and a kind of special appreciation of life...even after this. Yes, I must be in the hands of God. How else could I have come so far?
So, I look back on the dream now with a very special appreciation. I did not grasp the depth of its meaning when it happened. Although for a week I felt as though I was a changed person. It was a “lifetime” dream. Now, suddenly everything falls into place. All the suffering through my childhood melted away. This was something that had to be, and the Hands were there. The fears and anxiety of struggling with college and subsequent professional life dissolved. Everything that was my life had been stripped away and yet I felt peace. This is omnipotent power. Knowing a power greater than what one’s own efforts can produce defies description. I have felt it and I know it is all around me and it gives me peace. As I detach from the events of life and enjoy the essence of being, everything is as it should be without much input from me. Where will all this take me is anyone’s guess. I am confident that this is the right road; the direction will be apparent at the right time. Every need will be met as the dreams meaning materializes. My burden becomes much lighter now. I need only look for direction and to point my efforts, the rest requires only patience and allowing the Hands to smooth out the wrinkles. I realize too that I am not the only one. We all are in the Hands of God. It is so much easier when we believe that.
E Rossopoulos
July 23, 2003
It was short but powerful. Everything was black; there was no background. Then two hands appeared. The hands were very similar to the insurance company that uses the prop “you’re in good hands…” I looked at them as they first appeared before me; they grew very large and then I was sitting in the middle, being held. My mind heard the phrase “You are in the hands of God” and an enormous peace that flooded over me was indescribable. I looked and saw only hands. The wrists melted into the black background. I could not detect any arms or body attached to the hands. Three days later, (through all the tax returns) I still felt the peace. The pressure that I had been going through, seemed to become meaningless. Work was something I did, it no longer ruled my life. I was enveloped in a protective cocoon and the usual angst couldn’t touch me. Still, I had questions.
The one that kept repeating itself was “Why did I have such an awe-inspiring dream when things were not really that bad right now?” My logical mind just could not fathom it. I had been through much more demanding stuff in my life, why this dream? Why now? I had no answer. I accepted it with graciousness, but I had no answer. Years passed. I still had no answer. Finally, after mountains of rationalizing, I began to understand the dreams meaning. It started with the unraveling of the limits that I was placing on the dream: timing, current circumstances, pressure of day-to-day life and detachment.
Every book that I had read on interpreting dreams and their meaning had to do with where one was in life; it is a reflection of all that is going on around you. That was the smoke screen. This dream had nothing to do with what was going at that time; it was much grander in scope. I needed to become an historian and I needed to live a little more. Meditation on how events unfolded, how things always seem to work out and how bitterness did not poison my mind played a large part in revealing the true meaning. Two years after my husband passed away and I went through the metamorphosis of becoming me all over again, it dawned on me. I still have my sanity, my sense of humor and a kind of special appreciation of life...even after this. Yes, I must be in the hands of God. How else could I have come so far?
So, I look back on the dream now with a very special appreciation. I did not grasp the depth of its meaning when it happened. Although for a week I felt as though I was a changed person. It was a “lifetime” dream. Now, suddenly everything falls into place. All the suffering through my childhood melted away. This was something that had to be, and the Hands were there. The fears and anxiety of struggling with college and subsequent professional life dissolved. Everything that was my life had been stripped away and yet I felt peace. This is omnipotent power. Knowing a power greater than what one’s own efforts can produce defies description. I have felt it and I know it is all around me and it gives me peace. As I detach from the events of life and enjoy the essence of being, everything is as it should be without much input from me. Where will all this take me is anyone’s guess. I am confident that this is the right road; the direction will be apparent at the right time. Every need will be met as the dreams meaning materializes. My burden becomes much lighter now. I need only look for direction and to point my efforts, the rest requires only patience and allowing the Hands to smooth out the wrinkles. I realize too that I am not the only one. We all are in the Hands of God. It is so much easier when we believe that.
E Rossopoulos
July 23, 2003
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Alternate plans
Dwarf Oklahoma Redbud
Italian Golden Fig
Lake Wedington was hosting the annual solar boat races this weekend, so no way was I hiking it.
My ear problem grounded me by Saturday afternoon, gave in, took a pain pill and slept the day away.
I am better today(everything is relative) and looked at my plants that almost died this April from the freeze, they have survived nicely. I think I will too!
Friday, June 15, 2007
Interesting facts...then there's that pig thing
If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
(Hardly seems worth it.)
If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it!)
The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(O.M.G.!)
A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(In my next life, I want to be a pig.)
A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death. (Creepy.)
(I'm still not over the pig.)
Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour
(Don't try this at home, maybe at work)
The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.
(Honey, I'm home. What the...?!)
The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field. (30 minutes... Lucky pig! Can you imagine?)
The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)
Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)
Butterflies taste with their feet.
(Something I always wanted to know.)
The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.
(Hmmmmmm......)
Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)
Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(Okay, so that would be a good thing)
A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder who was paid to figure that out?)
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
( I know some people like that.)
Starfish have no brains
(I know some people like that too.)
Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer)
Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig??)
(Hardly seems worth it.)
If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it!)
The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(O.M.G.!)
A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(In my next life, I want to be a pig.)
A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death. (Creepy.)
(I'm still not over the pig.)
Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories a hour
(Don't try this at home, maybe at work)
The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.
(Honey, I'm home. What the...?!)
The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field. (30 minutes... Lucky pig! Can you imagine?)
The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)
Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)
Butterflies taste with their feet.
(Something I always wanted to know.)
The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.
(Hmmmmmm......)
Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)
Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(Okay, so that would be a good thing)
A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder who was paid to figure that out?)
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
( I know some people like that.)
Starfish have no brains
(I know some people like that too.)
Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer)
Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig??)
40 things southerners will never say
40. Oh I just couldn't. Hell, she's only sixteen.
39. I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.
38. Duct tape won't fix that.
37. Lisa Marie was lucky to catch Michael.
36. Come to think of it, I'll have a Heineken.
35. We don't keep firearms in this house.
34. Has anybody seen the sideburns trimmer?
33. You can't feed that to the dog.
32. I thought Graceland was tacky.
31. No kids in the back of the pickup, it's just not safe.
30. Wrasslin's fake.
29. Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
28. We're vegetarians.
27. Do you think my gut is too big?
26. I'll have grapefruit and grapes instead of
biscuits and gravy.
25. Honey, we don't need another dog.
24. Who's Richard Petty?
23. Give me the small bag of pork rinds.
22. Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
21. Spittin is such a nasty habit.
20. I just couldn't find a thing at Walmart today.
19. Trim the fat off that steak.
18. Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
17. The tires on that truck are too big.
16. I'll have the arugula and radicchio salad.
15. I've got it all on the C drive.
14. Unsweetened tea tastes better.
13. Would you like your salmon poached or broiled?
12. My fiance, Bobbie Jo, is registered at Tiffany's.
11. I've got two cases of Zima for the Super Bowl.
10. Little Debbie snack cakes have too many fat grams.
09. Checkmate.
08. She's too young to be wearing a bikini.
07. Does the salad bar have bean sprouts?
06. Hey, here's an episode of "Hee Haw" that we
haven't seen.
05. I don't have a favorite college team.
04. Be sure to bring my salad dressing on the side.
03. I believe you cooked those green beans too long.
02. Those shorts ought to be a little longer, Darla.
01. Nope, no more for me. I'm drivin tonight.
39. I'll take Shakespeare for 1000, Alex.
38. Duct tape won't fix that.
37. Lisa Marie was lucky to catch Michael.
36. Come to think of it, I'll have a Heineken.
35. We don't keep firearms in this house.
34. Has anybody seen the sideburns trimmer?
33. You can't feed that to the dog.
32. I thought Graceland was tacky.
31. No kids in the back of the pickup, it's just not safe.
30. Wrasslin's fake.
29. Honey, did you mail that donation to Greenpeace?
28. We're vegetarians.
27. Do you think my gut is too big?
26. I'll have grapefruit and grapes instead of
biscuits and gravy.
25. Honey, we don't need another dog.
24. Who's Richard Petty?
23. Give me the small bag of pork rinds.
22. Too many deer heads detract from the decor.
21. Spittin is such a nasty habit.
20. I just couldn't find a thing at Walmart today.
19. Trim the fat off that steak.
18. Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.
17. The tires on that truck are too big.
16. I'll have the arugula and radicchio salad.
15. I've got it all on the C drive.
14. Unsweetened tea tastes better.
13. Would you like your salmon poached or broiled?
12. My fiance, Bobbie Jo, is registered at Tiffany's.
11. I've got two cases of Zima for the Super Bowl.
10. Little Debbie snack cakes have too many fat grams.
09. Checkmate.
08. She's too young to be wearing a bikini.
07. Does the salad bar have bean sprouts?
06. Hey, here's an episode of "Hee Haw" that we
haven't seen.
05. I don't have a favorite college team.
04. Be sure to bring my salad dressing on the side.
03. I believe you cooked those green beans too long.
02. Those shorts ought to be a little longer, Darla.
01. Nope, no more for me. I'm drivin tonight.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
LIVING, AGING AND DYING
I signed up for a trip to Soquel, California; it is just below San Francisco and near enough to the coast to get the cool but foggy morning weather and spectacular afternoon sunshine. The sponsor, Elderhostel, is an organization whose purpose is to provide interesting yet educational travel programs to varied destinations, for seniors. It was late August; the transition from summer to fall. Appropriate enough for the program I was attending: “Living, Aging and Dying,” which was being presented at a Buddhist Center located in a mountainous area populated with redwoods.
Everyone attends this kind of program for a particular reason. The question was asked by one of the early presenters, in order to get an idea of what prompted a group of oldsters to spend precious time on this presumably morbid topic. The answers from the audience ran the gamut of those who were seeking meaning at the end of life, those who were still seeking the meaning of life, husbands who were pleasing their wives by acquiescing to this week long program, those who simply wanted to get away to this particular location and the rest seemed to be a kind of blend of them all. I was in the latter group.
The program offered several different yet related activities which included: early morning meditation and chanting in the temple area of the private retreat, daily Qi Gong lessons, stress reduction through self massage, nature walks through the 170 acres of redwood forest, acupressure, discussion of meditation techniques, key Buddhist principals as they relate to living, aging and dying and all the vegetarian meals one could hope for. This was not a program for the faint of heart. There was only one public phone on the property; cell phones would not work because access to a tower was not available, no television or radio and evening activities ended by 8:30 most nights. Clearly, one must be rather devoted to the cause to find comfort or a growth experience under these circumstances. Most were.
It was the afternoon of day two of the five day program. A nature hike was scheduled for the group; we would walk up the mountain around a loop in the redwood forest, to a future shrine site and then finally to a memorial shrine which contained a Buddha statue easily 25 feet tall and was a place, for those who chose, to store the ashes of loved ones. Most of the group went, some opted for a pre-planned golf outing (not part of the program) others idled by the pool or signed up for a massage. We learned about the plant life in the area and how far straight up a steep hill we could walk before a stop was in order. It took three stops to reach the top. It always amazes me how much seemingly old people can do. Once we got to more or less level ground, there were several built-in resting/meditation stops along the loop, complete with bench and a sign with philosophical phrases. I took a picture of each one, mostly for future reference and to avoid switching from sunglasses to bifocals be able to read each one. This is just another one of the annoyances of getting older.
The hike had taken about an hour as we approached the last stop: The Memorial Shrine. This was clearly a special place, surrounded by Tibetan Prayer flags, a parking lot off to the left and flower gardens at each corner of the temple, which was surrounded by a raised wooden deck, which served as an entry to the building. I got off the walkway and snapped a few pictures of the garden, got to the deck and realized I needed to remove my sneakers if I wanted entry into the Shrine. No problem. Then I saw the Giant Buddha. It was awesome. I had to get a picture, but it was too large so I lay on the floor and pointed upward; I got most of it. What a moving experience; a truly a holy and mystical place. That is when I realized it. I had lost my reading glasses.
They were no longer hanging from the collar of my sweatshirt. I performed a panic pat down, hoping they were in a pocket, on a belt loop or anywhere, but they were definitely gone. I frantically looked around the room, by all the shoes just outside the door and they were no where to be seen. We needed to get back to the retreat center for the next scheduled program.
I mentally reviewed all my actions before the hike. Maybe I never took them. We were walking in bright sun after all. Maybe I had left them in the room…I thought to myself doubtfully. It was consolation enough to get me back to the center, but a scan of my room confirmed they were most definitely lost. It would be impossible to write anything now and difficult to see well in the remaining classes. I was trying to decide what the next step should be when a fellow retreat member, Joan offered to repeat the hike we had just made at the end of this next program. It would still be light enough. The plan gave me some comfort, as I tried to pay attention to the presentation on massage for stress reduction. I could use a little stress reduction right now.
We scurried back up the steep hill and retraced our steps in reverse order. We decided not to go to the Shrine, since that is where I realized I had lost them and the area was pretty well scoured already. We reasoned that it wasn’t likely that they would be there. Rest stop by rest stop, we walked and looked and prodded and poked but we were not successful. We returned to the retreat center in time for dinner and the next session. I was starting to think about a plan B solution.
During the next session, I thought if it were possible to find a place that makes prescription glasses in an hour, I could get an exam and have a new pair made in the next afternoon, since we were going to have some free time then anyway. At the break I asked if there was a listing in the local phone book of such a place. There was, and I had a workable solution in mind. Joan suggested we meet at 7 AM and do the entire hike again when it was lighter. I was willing and happy for the company. I reasoned to myself everything would be covered with dew and things might be easier to see then. For now I had to get through this session without taking notes.
We started at different times but still met at the top of the hill at just after 7. I brought the six foot walking stick with me for protection. You never know when a gopher or a rabbit might pop out of the woods. We did the hike in the same order that it was originally presented. We took our time at each rest stop, thinking they may have gotten worked into the mulch that was around each bench. Still nothing. Just because, I suggested that we go back to the Shrine. Maybe they were in a corner or someplace that I hadn’t looked yesterday, Joan was ok with that. So we looked again. I went off the path in the same place I had yesterday, took pretend pictures to repeat the same actions. Went to the deck looked all around. Still nothing. Well, it was at this point that I realized they were lost yesterday, and so I was ready to accept it. I admitted it out loud as we started walking the path that led to the road that would take us back to the retreat center: “OK, I accept it, they are gone.” We consoled ourselves by saying we did the best we could and moved on. I was walking in front of Joan and she had stopped to read the prayer flags that hung over the walkway.
They were a bit different than any of the others I had seen at the center. These had stenciled figures of animals and plants and little handwritten prayers on them. Each one was unique and seemingly written by a child. These must be for the ashes enshrined in the Memorial Shrine behind us, I thought to myself. They were so heartfelt that I had to step back a read a few myself. They were positioned a couple of feet above our heads and so were hard to see. One said: I wish that all animals would not die. Another said I wish happiness for everyone. I had moved to the right of Joan and the path and read one for myself. It said: I wish for my mommy.
I paused and then said, “me too.”
I looked down on the ground to the right and there were my dew covered glasses.
By: E Rossopoulos
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
One Man's Trash...
Today is garbage day and I couldn't help but remember this incident of a few years ago:
Driving home recently I noticed a mattress and box-spring set placed beside the road presumably for the trash men to take it away. It reminded me of a similar circumstance a friend of mine had years ago. She had called and asked if we could help her. She had been renting out a spare room for several years and the lady moved out leaving an old mattress and box-spring set behind. It was definitely past its prime and too much for one person to carry.
We were happy to help bring it out for pick up. It was one of the most used mattresses I had ever seen. The middle was totally mashed down and only about three inches thick. It spread close to the perimeter, which still maintained some semblance of the original nine-inch depth. The original color of the cover was no longer discernable. It was now superimposed stain upon stain. While I didn’t say anything, I thought it would be a good idea to really wash up after this task was finished.
We visited for a bit afterward. Two hours had passed and as we were saying our goodbyes I looked at the spot where the mattress was and some people had actually slowed down to assess it. It actually looked as though they might take it. I thought to myself that the old axiom must be true: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Still, we had difficulty believing that anyone could possibly find any mileage left in it, it was really used up. What did we know? There are apparently very needy people in the world. They drove on slowly.
Shortly after we got home the telephone rang. It was my friend. She was very excited. The people that slowed down to look at the mattress had actually come back with a pickup truck to tote the thing away. Unbelievable.
Several hours later the telephone rang. It was my friend. She was laughing, I actually had to wait for her to calm down before I could understand what she was trying to say. She said, “They brought it back.”
Sometimes one man’s trash is just that…trash.
E. Rossopoulos
Driving home recently I noticed a mattress and box-spring set placed beside the road presumably for the trash men to take it away. It reminded me of a similar circumstance a friend of mine had years ago. She had called and asked if we could help her. She had been renting out a spare room for several years and the lady moved out leaving an old mattress and box-spring set behind. It was definitely past its prime and too much for one person to carry.
We were happy to help bring it out for pick up. It was one of the most used mattresses I had ever seen. The middle was totally mashed down and only about three inches thick. It spread close to the perimeter, which still maintained some semblance of the original nine-inch depth. The original color of the cover was no longer discernable. It was now superimposed stain upon stain. While I didn’t say anything, I thought it would be a good idea to really wash up after this task was finished.
We visited for a bit afterward. Two hours had passed and as we were saying our goodbyes I looked at the spot where the mattress was and some people had actually slowed down to assess it. It actually looked as though they might take it. I thought to myself that the old axiom must be true: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Still, we had difficulty believing that anyone could possibly find any mileage left in it, it was really used up. What did we know? There are apparently very needy people in the world. They drove on slowly.
Shortly after we got home the telephone rang. It was my friend. She was very excited. The people that slowed down to look at the mattress had actually come back with a pickup truck to tote the thing away. Unbelievable.
Several hours later the telephone rang. It was my friend. She was laughing, I actually had to wait for her to calm down before I could understand what she was trying to say. She said, “They brought it back.”
Sometimes one man’s trash is just that…trash.
E. Rossopoulos
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