Recently, I feel that I was very busy that I couldn't find TIME for everything. I feel that I'm always rushing and would maximize my time to the fullest each day. Having a stressful, full time job and maintaining some blogs and online tasks is not really easy. It might be well for others who work on only one shift and can find time to check on their personal emails and peep on their blogs during break times while on the office. But not for me, as I can only check on my personal stuff off work. There is Internet connection in the office but I just used it to check on company emails. I take care of everything about myself, cooking my own foods, doing the laundry and ironing by myself, going to market, cleaning my own room, etc. Well, I think it's quite a challenging task.
Reading this story below somehow made me realized the value of time. Sometimes, we are too much focused about work and ourselves that we often neglect on giving time to important people in our lives, whether it be family, friends, colleagues and every people that surrounds us. Inter action with other people is very important. We wouldn't know but perhaps a minute of your time each day that you're giving to these people means so much to them. We have to spend quality time with people who matters most to us. I still believe that quality still prevails over quantity. We have to spend every minute with people in a way that we would leave a "mark" in their hearts, somehow....
The story below is just one of the many stories that I loved most. You might be familiar with it as it is widespread on the internet but the author is unknown. I think this is still worth sharing, as most of us might be guilty on this.
Please read and enjoy.......
Thanks For Your Time
Unknown Author
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!"
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