Posts Tagged ‘Charles Dickens’

As I’ve already admitted, I talk to people on buses (and planes and trains and elsewhere.)   There are a variety of people on buses…people deep in newspapers or books, people with earbuds, people talking to themselves, people staring out the window.  Recently in Philadelphia, I sat next to a woman who was knitting.  We fell into conversation.  She uses the bus regularly and redeems the time creating things like the little purse you see below.  Then she gives them away to children.  She gave me one as I stood to get off the bus, to give to someone of my choosing.  I was touched.  It made me consider how I redeem time that would otherwise be spend just sitting.  I tend to read, write, take photos.  Sometimes I use that time to think or to pray.

“It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.”
~Mother Teresa

photo 2(109)

One Sunday, I’ll take this purse to church.  I have the perfect little girl in mind.

“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”
~Charles Dickens

How do you redeem time in your life?

I love Friday Fictioneers, but sometimes it seems that it was just Friday (or Wednesday) only a few days ago.   Or is it just me?  If that’s the worst problem I ever have, I’ll be very fortunate!!  Rochelle, merci beaucoup for hosting and thanks to Rich for the picture.  Happy birthday to Ted, Kent, Mary, my mom (born on Pearl Harbor day), and any other December birthday folks!  (Rochelle, if you’re amassing birthdays, Bill’s and mine are both in March.)  🙂

My first thought was someone at the end of life thinking of all the choices made, one inside each door.  However, something ran amok inside my head and what emerged was a riff on that idea.  Or maybe just riff-raff.  Who can say?

100_7262-1 copyright Rich Voza

The Big Cheese
Or
The Gjetost of Christmas Past

His mind wandered.  So many choices throughout his life.  Not all perfect, but he was satisfied.  Head of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe, Attorneys-at-Law, (plural intentional but deceptive—no other power here), people averted their gazes when he passed, feared him.  Life was good!

A knock.

“Enter.”

“A Mr. Gjetost to see you.”  Fat Tim, AKA“Tiny”, handed him a card, departing silently but for his limp.

What the dickens?  This guy’s a Norwegian cheese?  Ebenezeer scrutinized the card.  Mr. G. H. Ost.  Tim and names!  Wonder what this guy wants?

“Mr. Ost, how may I help you?”

“Au contraire, Mr. Skruge…”