I got this in email today........I dunno how true it is, but I'm imagining it to be a sign of love and generousity in people we'd least expect. I had to share this.........I love inspirational stories. Just call me a sap! I hope you don't mind the long read......it's worth the sigh at the end!




If this doesn't light your fire -- your wood is wet!! A Truckers Story

> I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my Customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome.

> I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ"; the pairs of white shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

> I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

> Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated! surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their Social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.

> He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.

> He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.

> "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."

> "I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"

> Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK" she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is."

> Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.

> After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face.

> " What's up?" I asked.

> "I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie."

> "Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving! Me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply "truckers."

> That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back. Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.

> "Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.

> "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother.

> "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happy Thanksgiving,"

> Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. Best worker I ever hired. Plant a seed and watch it grow.

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Minds are like parachutes. They only work when they are open.

~Thomas Dewar~

Lovely story........

It is true that kids with DS suffer heart abnormalities/conditions at a high rate. There are lots of families with a "Stevie" who aren't so lucky to have such friends!

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The practice of putting women on pedestals began to die out when it was discovered that they could give orders better from there.~ Betty Grable

If I wanted your opinion, I'd remove the duct tape and ask you for it.~ Me
<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>
One man's dream is another man's nightmare~~~~> §¤ Lilith ¤§
~>My Scribbles<~
==>Gone Shopping<== ~Just a Quickie~ *~A Celebration Vacation~* ~Surprises~ Sleeping With the Window Open
What Did You Do Today? Self Defense Class ~Short Sweet Snippets~ § Summer Spin § Story Challenge Submission Pajamas

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wrap our arms around each and every one who needed us!

TY Lil......I knew you'd know!

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Minds are like parachutes. They only work when they are open.

~Thomas Dewar~

Suprises come from the least expected places. TY for the story.

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Dammit Lix..that one got me. I was fine till they started talking about heart surgery. My younger brother(only sibling) has Marfands Syndrome. Most people haven't heard of it. It's basically a degenerative disaease that attacks connective tissues. At 14 months..the tissue that holds your lens in place in your eyes broke...he also has a mile case of glaucoma. At 18 he had surgery at Johns Hopkins to repair an aortic anneurysim (sp) he had 2 inches of the Aorta and the valve replaced. Dad's insurace took care of all but a tiny bit of it.. so we weren't that bad off. But the scare of having someone you love under the knife, and technically dead for a few seconds is enough to make anyone scared to death. Thankfully he came through with flying colors..is married and just turned 25.

My 58-year-old uncle has Down's. My 92-year-old grandma and him live together and she cooks for him. My parents live next door and help out, too.

She was told he wasn't going to live to be 7, then the doctors told her 14 . . . and on until now! He recently developed diabetes but no heart problems. Forty or 50 years ago things weren't as they were now - this heartwarming story (which brought more than a few tears to my eyes) wouldn't have happened when he was younger. My grandma insists he's not to live in a "home" and said he's what keeps her going. Thank you, Lixy!

And believe it or not, Eros, I actually worked with someone who had Marfands . . . she's since become a really good friend. She had surgery but everything's cool now - she's worried about carrying children, though. The doctors have said she'd have difficulty.

Wow, what an amazing thread.

This is the third day in a row I've started with tears in my eyes from something I read. It was a beautiful story Lixy. I'm glad you shared it. Thanks

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As to marriage or celibacy, let a man take which course he will. He will be sure to repent - Socrates

Love is not looking in each other's eyes, but looking together in the same direction - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

That was a very lovely story, Lixy. Thank you for sharing it.

This ol' world sure needs more love in it, doesn't it? If any of you need a little extra ... CYH ... consider yourselves hugged!

Great story.

Now wouldn't it be wonderful if our tax dollars made efforts like

this un-necessary, rather than paying millions to bloated politicians?

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Calm, quiet, smooth, devastating

Fantastic story Lixie. Thanks for sharing it.

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thank you ma'am, may i have another?

My Daddy was a trucker all his life... and I am here to tell you that altho this particular story may or may not be true.. it catches the personality of the trucker in general. Oh yeah, as with every large population of people, there is bound to be a bad seed or two, but for the most part there is no profession that holds as many big hearted, soft souled, teddy bears. I was able to meet many growing up, and even tho they tend to have a "twisted" sense of humor (that must be were I got mine from) they do indeed have the biggest hearts..

Thank you for posting this..

That is a VERY touching and wonderful story. Yep, I had tissues handy and needed them.

Jennaflower, you're right about the majority of truckers (that I've ever met at least) are really good people.

A few years ago one of our daughters was heading back from Illinois to Ohio when her car went off the road and crashed about an hour from home. A semi driver saw the accident and pulled his rig off the road and contacted the police. Then, setting his flashers, he went down to her car, helped her out and let her sit in his rig while he got all of her personal thrings taken from the car and stacked nicely by his truck. He let her use his cell phone to call her husband so he could come get her and waited with her until the police and her husband arrived. I don't know his name or the name of the company he drove for but he's been in my prayers ever since. He was truly a great example of what all people should be like!

Ahhhhhhh...............having trouble seeing...............That got me Lixy. A truly fine story Little Lady.

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just proves quisath that you are a softie