[Nfbk] God Bless

Sun Jun 19 17:39:46 UTC 2011

Thanks, Joey, for sharing this beautiful story.
Steve Meyer
JCPS  TBVI

In a message dated 6/19/2011 10:36:22 A.M. Eastern  Daylight Time, 
joey.couch at gmail.com writes:

Carl was a quiet man.. He didn't talk  much.

He would always  greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake.

Even after living in our neighborhood for  over 50 years,

No one  could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work  each morning.

The lone  sight of him walking down the street often worried  us.

He had a  slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII.

Watching him, we worried that although he  had survived WWII,

He may  not make it through our changing uptown
neighborhood with its  ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and  drug
activity.

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for
volunteers for caring  for the gardens behind the minister's residence,
he responded in his  characteristically unassuming manner. Without
fanfare, he just signed  up.

He was well  into his 87th year when the very thing we had
always feared finally  happened..

He was  just finishing his watering for the day when three
gang members approached  him.

Ignoring their  attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked,

"Would you like a drink from the  hose?"

The  tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah,
sure," with a  malevolent little smile.

As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed
Carl's arm,  throwing him down.

As the  hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing
everything in its way, Carl's  assailants stole his retirement watch
and his wallet, and then  fled.

Carl tried  to get himself up, but he had been thrown down
on his bad  leg.

He lay there trying  to gather himself as the minister came
running to help  him..

Although  the minister had witnessed the attack from his
window, he couldn't get  there fast enough to stop it.

"Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept
asking  as he helped Carl to his feet.

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his  head.

"Just some punk  kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday."

His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent  to
pick up the hose.

He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water..

Confused and a little concerned, the  minister asked,
"Carl, what are you doing?"

"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very  dry
lately," came the calm reply.

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right,  the
minister could only marvel.

Carl was a man from a different time and  place.

A few  weeks later the three returned.. Just as before
their threat was  unchallenged.

Carl again  offered them a drink from his hose.

This time they didn't rob him.

They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched  him head
to foot in the icy water.

When they had finished their humiliation of him,  they
sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses,  falling
over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just  done.

Carl just  watched them.

Then he  turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his
hose, and went on with  his watering.

The  summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing
some tilling when he was  startled by the sudden approach of someone
behind him.

He stumbled and fell into some evergreen  branches.

As he  struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see
the tall leader of his  summer tormentors reaching down for him. He
braced himself for the expected  attack.

"Don't  worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time."

The young man spoke softly, still offering  the tattooed
and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man  pulled a
crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to  Carl.

"What's  this?"

Carl asked. "It's  your stuff," the man explained. "It's
your stuff back.

Even the money in your wallet" "I don't  understand," Carl
said. "Why would you help me  now?"

The man  shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at
ease. "I learned something  from you," he said. "I ran with that gang
and hurt people like you we  picked you because you were old and we
knew we could do it But every time  we came and did something to you,
instead of yelling and fighting back, you  tried to give us a drink.
You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept  showing love against our
hate."

He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we  stole
your stuff, so here it is back."

He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing  what
more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks  for
straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down  the
street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly
opened it. He took  out his retirement watch and put it back on his
wrist. Opening his wallet,  he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed
for a moment at the young bride  that still smiled back at him from all
those years  ago..

He died one  cold day after Christmas that winter. Many
people attended his funeral in  spite of the weather.

In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that
he didn't  know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the  church.

The  minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life.

In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he  said, "Do your
best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will  never
forget Carl and his garden."

The following spring another flyer went up. It  read:
"Person needed to care for Carl's garden."

The flyer went unnoticed by the busy  parishioners until
one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office  door.

Opening the  door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and
tattooed hands holding the  flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll
have me," the young man  said.

The  minister recognized him as the same young man who had
returned the stolen  watch and wallet to Carl.

He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's  life
around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed,  he
said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor  him."

The man  went to work and, over the next several years, he
tended the flowers and  vegetables just as Carl had done.

During that time, he went to college, got married,  and
became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot  his
promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as  he
thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him  that
he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a  shy
and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and  she's
bringing him home on Saturday."

"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he  was
handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the  baby's
name?"

"Carl," he replied.

That's the whole gospel message simply  stated.

So, say a  small prayer for the person who sent you this.

God, bless this person in whatever it is that You know  he
or she may be needing this  day!

--  
Joey Couch
cell phone  606-216-8033
email
joey.couch at gmail.com
or
ki4vjd at arrl.net
twitter  name @ki4vjd
facebook joey.couch at gmail.com
Skype name  joey6584

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