Only Love Lasts Forever

Karen was a single mom with two kids. One night, she was at the bath while her two sons were playing around, bopping each other with pillows. Then one pillow slipped from the younger brother’s grasp and smashed the glass dome on the table, shattering it into pieces.

When Karen came out and saw the broken glasses, she knelt by the pieces, sighed and began to cry. This made the kids feel awful. She explained to them that under the shattered glass dome was a white porcelain rose. Their father had given it to her on their first wedding anniversary. He had said that if he ever forgot to bring flowers for an anniversary in the future, she was to look at that one. It was like their love – it would last a lifetime. Now it lay chipped on the floor, one petal gone.

Karen slowly began to pick up the mess. Knowing that their mother was upset, the kids decided to do something to cheer her up.

The next morning when Karen was preparing the breakfast, she saw the white porcelain rose placed on the table with its petal glued back. Beside it was a note:

Mom,
Sorry about the rose. But all things can be broken, everything breaks sometime. The only thing that isn’t like that is love. It’s the only thing that can never be broken.

Karen looked at the rose. The tiny petal now had a thin, almost invisible line of glue. She later referred it as a “limited edition”. Its tiny flaw reminded her of something more important: the realization that only love lasts forever. The kids actually understood something that even much older people didn’t.

Another Purpose

John brought his new colleague, Peter, home for dinner. As they arrived at the door his wife rushed up, threw her arms around John and kissed him passionately.

“My goodness,” said Peter, “and how long have you been married?”

“22 years,” replied John.

“You must have a fantastic marriage if your wife greets you like that after all those years.”

“Don’t be fooled! She only does it to make the dog jealous.”

Bobby

Daphne walked home with her little brother every day the same way, passed an oil refinery. Her mom always told them to walk together and never talk to strangers. One day, as they passed the oil refinery, she heard an old man’s voice.

“Hey there, children.”

Daphne turned and saw a very old man standing there with a sweet smile on his face.

“Hi,” she answered, still keeping the distance.

“Would you like a soda pop? I know you walk by here every day. I don’t mean you any harm.”

“No thanks. My mom said I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,” she replied.

“Oh, I understand. And your mom’s right. My name is Bobby. Now run along,” he said as he disappeared behind the gate of the refinery.

What a strange man, Daphne thought. But she also felt bad, thinking she might have insulted him by calling him a stranger.

She went home and reported to her mom what had happened. Her mom told her that she was right not to talk to strangers. However, every time they passed the refinery, a familiar voice would say, “Hello there, children.”

Then one day, her family was taking a walk around the neighborhood. They passed the refinery and Bobby just appeared at the gate. He smiled as he approached her parents, “Well, you must be Little Pretty’s mom! And you must be her dad! It’s so nice to meet you.” They spoke for a few minutes and then, walking home, her parents said it would be safe for them to visit Bobby after school.

Daphne and her brother would stop to visit Bobby after school every day after that. Bobby would invite them into his tiny office to talk about their schoolwork, their friends and sports.

It wasn’t long before Daphne started getting a few friends to walk home together just to meet Bobby. Before long, a group of about fifteen kids went daily to visit Bobby and received their sodas and gum.

They visited Bobby every day after school for about three years! Daphne’s mom finally decided it was time to do something nice for Bobby. So, with some thought and a lot of effort, she arranged for a plaque-giving ceremony to be held at the refinery on Father’s day. All of the children who visited Bobby, and even some of their parents, were invited. And most of them came. On the plaque, “To the Neighborhood Grandfather,” was engraved with names of all the kids below it. Bobby cried when he received it. Daphne thought he’d never been surrounded with so much adoration in his life.

The following holiday, Daphne’s mom gave Bobby an enlarged photograph of the “Neighborhood Grandfather Ceremony” with all the kids standing around him.

Bobby died in the following year. Daphne’s mom went with two other mothers to the funeral service. There, right on the coffin, were three items: the country flag folded into a triangle shade (as is customary for war veterans), the plaque they gave him and the photograph of that memorable Father’s Day ceremony with all the kids standing around him. Bobby had no children, the kids were his children. A lonely old man with no responsibilities to family, taking in a group of little kids who ended up meaning so much to him. Bobby was able to leave knowing that somebody loved him.