what a day!
Tuesday, February 28th, 2006Tuesday!
Staying at home in the morning, helped mum to water plant, sweep & mop the floor. And I cooked the dinner! luckily I help mum for all this, if not she’s going to say I did nothing for the hse on my holiday. Sat going to start my training so from sat onwards don’t have time to do all those things. I see myself when I work, morning go out with my bro n sis while they go to sch, reach home abt 8pm rest awhile…sleep….then another day! that’s the working life….. *sigh*
Afternoon went to Income tax department with mum at Shah Alam, we took a sit, there’s 4 person before us. I took abt 20min to reach our turn!!! just 4 person also took 20min….??!!I think maybe is tea time and 4 counter only 1 available for service…the rest of them was sitting there talking. That’s their attitude… *sigh*
Here’s a mail i received just now and i think it’s a wonderful story….
> >The Importance of Time
> >
> >A young man learns what’s most important in life from the guy next
> >door. It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College,
> >girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved
> >clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush
> >of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and
> >often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his
> >future, and nothing could stop him.
> >
> >
> >
> >Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The
> >funeral is Wednesday."
> >
> >
> >
> >Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat
> >quietly remembering his childhood days.
> >
> >
> >
> >"Jack, did you hear me?"
> >
> >
> >
> >"Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long since I thought of
>
> >him. I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
> >
> >
> >
> >"Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him he’d ask how you
> >were doing. He’d reminisce about the many days you spent over ‘ his
> >side of the fence’ as he put it," Mom told him.
> >
> >
> >
> >"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
> >
> >
> >
> >"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make
> >sure you had a man’s influence in your life," she said.
> >
> >
> >
> >"He’s the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn’t be in this
>
> >business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me
> >things he thought were important…Mom, I’ll be there for the
> >funeral," Jack said.
> >
> >
> >
> >As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
>
> >hometown. Mr. Belser’s funeral was small and uneventful. He had no
> >children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
> >
> >
> >
> >The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to
> >see the old house next door one more time.
> >
> >
> >
> >Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing
>
> >over into another dimension, a leap through space and time.
> >
> >
> >
> >The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every
>
> >picture, every piece of furniture….Jack stopped suddenly.
> >
> >
> >
> >"What’s wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
> >
> >
> >
> >"The box is gone," he said.
> >
> >
> >
> >"What box?" Mom asked.
> >
> >
> >
> >"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I
> >must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d ever
> >tell me was the thing I value most, ‘" Jack said.
> >
> >
> >
> >It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack
> >remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser
> >family had taken it.
> >
> >
> >
> >"Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better
>
> >get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
> >
> >
> >
> >It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from
> >work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required
>
> >on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office
> >within the next three days," the note read.
> >
> >
> >
> >Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old
> >and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The
> >handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his
> >attention.
> >
> >
> >
> >Mr. Harold Belser" it read.
> >
> >
> >
> >Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package there
> >inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack’s hands shook as he read
> >the note inside.
> >
> >
> >
> >"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack
> >Bennett. It’s the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was
> >taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack
> >carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold
> >pocket watch.
> >
> >
> >
> >Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched
> >the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
> >
> >
> >
> >"Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser."
> >
> >
> >
> >"The thing he valued most…was…my time."
> >
> >
> >
> >Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and
> >cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his
> >assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
> >"Oh, by the way, Janet…thanks for your time!"
> >
> >
> >
> >"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the
> >moments that take our breath away,"
> >
-alicia-
