Your Benevolence, in your Life Living, {helping/assisting "poor" women on/of the streets, as just one single example} IS A LIVING/ACTING TESTAMENT TO YOUR MOTHER's & FATHER's Fine Raising of Their Offspring, Fashioned/Created-In-Love.
I can only Imagine, that they are both with/watching you Each Moment, in Your Life-Committed Endeavors.
Regardless of your Religious beliefs, the little that I know of You, I sense A True Christian Ethos, the type that Transcends formality.
When I was 15 years old, my dad had a short stay in Hackensack Hospital, NJ, as he lay dying of congestive heart failure.
My mom didn't drive, so she took two buses twice daily, then again at evening, to be with him. Sometimes, a kind neighbor would drive her/me for the evening visit.
The first day she went alone & when at the bus stop on the way home, two men snatched her purse, she had the purse's strap secured around her arm, this resulted in preventing easy release, & the accost-ers threw her to the ground, in the street, before the bus, which screeched to a halt. The bus driver exited quickly to assist her & the robbers vanished.
My mom made me vow NOT to tell my dad. He was a Sicilian & deadly Scorpio, WWII Navy Man. Enough said.
He was a quiet man. But again, a Scorpio.
*
When I was around 11 years old, I had a paper route. I also had naturally wavy/curly blond hair. My mother & Aunts use to say "God wasted your hair on a boy."
There was a man on my route who lived on the top floor of a 3 story house. He received The Sunday paper only. All my "customers" were friendly to me. However, he would incessantly tease me in front of gathered people on the building's stoop, & say that I "spent time curling my hair like a girl." I protested to him over & over that he was wrong. I didn't understand his harping on me.
At dinner one night I was complaining to my brother about this guy.
I noticed my father was listening, but didn't say anything.
When dinner was finished, my father nonchalantly asked me "who he was & where did he live?"
About a week later as I was riding my bike home, there stood my dad, at the corner of the block, & I quickly stopped by him. It was a very unusual thing. He was a painter, would take buses to NYC for work, then come home like clockwork. He was dependable & steady Man, to say the least.
This day, I now figure, he must have gotten off the bus a few blocks from our home & walked to that waiting corner.
He pointed in the direction of the man's house, said "Is that the man's house?, son." "Yes," I said (at that time not knowing why but simply answering a question from my dad). Then he said, "Third floor?, right." Again I replied, "Yes."
He then said, "Ok son, you go home now & tell your mother I'll be home shortly."
I rode my bike home & told my mom my dad's message.
*
I was soon alerted by the lady who gave us paperboys our bundles of papers that this man had cancelled his Sunday subscription.
The next time I rode my bike up to his stoop, admittedly bummed out as to expecting his typical remarks, I noticed he got up quickly & entered his building. He never bothered me again.
I never put together what my dad did back then, forgot this event, & only about 15 years ago was I shown my father's un-refusable offer.
Gorgeous tribute. Love this so much.💕Happy Birthday to Daddy Z! 🎉You certainly exhibit their nurturing & protective ways. Good on your folks, good on you! Thank you for sharing this beautiful glimpse of family/connectivity. 💗🌦️🕊
My father was a city cop here in town, and my mother a nurse. We seem to have had parallel upbringing. Makes me think of my late parents when you mention yours. Thanks, as always.
Here's to your father's memory!
Thank you, Jaye! ❤
Mickey of The Zezima Family,
What a Touching & Beautiful True Story.
Your Benevolence, in your Life Living, {helping/assisting "poor" women on/of the streets, as just one single example} IS A LIVING/ACTING TESTAMENT TO YOUR MOTHER's & FATHER's Fine Raising of Their Offspring, Fashioned/Created-In-Love.
I can only Imagine, that they are both with/watching you Each Moment, in Your Life-Committed Endeavors.
Regardless of your Religious beliefs, the little that I know of You, I sense A True Christian Ethos, the type that Transcends formality.
Blessings.
& GodSpeed.
Always.
The Sweet Fruits...
of Great Trees,
Fall Near,
& Extend,
Far & Wide.
Amen.
Paul, you offer such generous words and I'm humbled by them. Thank you for all your support for my efforts. 🙂
Always Friend & Most Fine Worker.
I would like to make a small contribution to your "street" Work(s).
How does one contribute a small offer? I don't need to purchase anything.
"For The Fields Are Full,
But The Workers...few."
"The Worker...
Is Worthy
Of his/her meat & bread."
~ You Know Who...
I'm running out of ways to express y gratitude, Paul, but you can certainly contribute here: https://www.gofundme.com/f/helping-homeless-women-nyc
Thank you in advance!
Beautiful!
Thank you! 🙂
Dear Mickey,
As Inspiration: Dads & Moms.
When I was 15 years old, my dad had a short stay in Hackensack Hospital, NJ, as he lay dying of congestive heart failure.
My mom didn't drive, so she took two buses twice daily, then again at evening, to be with him. Sometimes, a kind neighbor would drive her/me for the evening visit.
The first day she went alone & when at the bus stop on the way home, two men snatched her purse, she had the purse's strap secured around her arm, this resulted in preventing easy release, & the accost-ers threw her to the ground, in the street, before the bus, which screeched to a halt. The bus driver exited quickly to assist her & the robbers vanished.
My mom made me vow NOT to tell my dad. He was a Sicilian & deadly Scorpio, WWII Navy Man. Enough said.
He was a quiet man. But again, a Scorpio.
*
When I was around 11 years old, I had a paper route. I also had naturally wavy/curly blond hair. My mother & Aunts use to say "God wasted your hair on a boy."
There was a man on my route who lived on the top floor of a 3 story house. He received The Sunday paper only. All my "customers" were friendly to me. However, he would incessantly tease me in front of gathered people on the building's stoop, & say that I "spent time curling my hair like a girl." I protested to him over & over that he was wrong. I didn't understand his harping on me.
At dinner one night I was complaining to my brother about this guy.
I noticed my father was listening, but didn't say anything.
When dinner was finished, my father nonchalantly asked me "who he was & where did he live?"
About a week later as I was riding my bike home, there stood my dad, at the corner of the block, & I quickly stopped by him. It was a very unusual thing. He was a painter, would take buses to NYC for work, then come home like clockwork. He was dependable & steady Man, to say the least.
This day, I now figure, he must have gotten off the bus a few blocks from our home & walked to that waiting corner.
He pointed in the direction of the man's house, said "Is that the man's house?, son." "Yes," I said (at that time not knowing why but simply answering a question from my dad). Then he said, "Third floor?, right." Again I replied, "Yes."
He then said, "Ok son, you go home now & tell your mother I'll be home shortly."
I rode my bike home & told my mom my dad's message.
*
I was soon alerted by the lady who gave us paperboys our bundles of papers that this man had cancelled his Sunday subscription.
The next time I rode my bike up to his stoop, admittedly bummed out as to expecting his typical remarks, I noticed he got up quickly & entered his building. He never bothered me again.
I never put together what my dad did back then, forgot this event, & only about 15 years ago was I shown my father's un-refusable offer.
Anywho.
FOR OUR DADS:
https://youtu.be/cSK92HcuMqw
Thank you, Paul. Your stories bring a tear to my eye and remind me how comforting it was to have a father who was ALWAYS there for his family. 😭
YES !
We are both Blessed.
We share & spread The Blessing.
Peace Always To You.
He is looking down from heaven I am sure (((((((((((((((((((Mickey))))))))))))))))))))
❤🙏❤
Love this story, Mickey. You keep your father alive with your memories. My mom would've been 82 today.
Thank you SO much, Kris. Wishing you a day full of sweet memories... ❤🎂❤
God bless your beautiful parents, Mickey. And God bless you for your profound and amazing writing. Your heart always shines through.
Sheila, you sweet and kind words made me emotional and proud. Thank you... ❤
Gorgeous tribute. Love this so much.💕Happy Birthday to Daddy Z! 🎉You certainly exhibit their nurturing & protective ways. Good on your folks, good on you! Thank you for sharing this beautiful glimpse of family/connectivity. 💗🌦️🕊
I will strive to live up to such high praise. Thank you, Malika. 💕
What a great remembrance. I think you do your parents honour with the way you live and the stands you take.
You are too kind, James. Thank you for being so generous.
Another wonderful story.
Thank you.
Thank YOU!
My father was a city cop here in town, and my mother a nurse. We seem to have had parallel upbringing. Makes me think of my late parents when you mention yours. Thanks, as always.
And thank YOU for sharing, George!
That is beautiful.
Thank you for reading and commenting... 💕