A number of years ago (1983-1987), I had the opportunity to play the character of Ronald McDonald for the McDonald’s Corporation. My marketplace covered most of Arizona and a portion of Southern California. One of our standard events was “Ronald Day.” One day each month, we visited as many of the community hospitals as possible, bringing a little happiness into a place where no one ever looks forward to going. I was very proud to be able to make a difference for children and adults who are experiencing some “down time.” The warmth and gratification I would receive stayed with me for weeks. I loved the project, McDonald’s loved the project, the kids and adults loved it and so did the nursing and hospital staffs....

There were two restrictions placed on me during a visit. First, I could not go anywhere in the hospital without McDonald’s personnel (my handlers) as well as hospital personnel. That way, if I were to walk into a room and frighten a child, there was someone there to address the issue immediately. And second, I could not physically touch anyone within the hospital. They did not want me transferring germs from one patient to another. I understood why they had this “don’t touch” rule, but I didn’t like it. I believe that touching is the most honest form of communication we will ever know. Printed and spoken words can lie; it is impossible to lie with a warm hug. Breaking either of these rules, I was told, meant I could lose my job. 

Toward the end of my fourth year of “Ronald Days,” as I was heading down a hallway after a long day in grease paint and on my way home, I heard a little voice. “Ronald, Ronald.” I stopped. The soft little voice was coming through a half-opened door. I pushed the door open and saw a young boy, about five years old, lying in his dad’s arms, hooked up to more medical equipment than I had ever seen. Mom was on the other side, along with Grandma, Grandpa and a nurse tending to the equipment. I knew by the feeling in the room that the situation was grave.

I asked the little boy his name---he told me it was Billy---and I did a few simple magic tricks for him. As I stepped back to say good-bye, I asked Billy if there was anything else I could do for him. “Ronald, would you hold me?”... Such a simple request. But what ran through my mind was that if I touched him, I could lose my job. So I told Billy I could not do that right now, but I suggested that he and I color a picture. Upon completing a wonderful piece of art that we were both very proud of, Billy again asked me to hold him. By this time my heart was screaming “yes!” But my mind was screaming louder. “No! You are going to lose your job!” This second time that Billy asked me, I had to ponder why I could not grant the simple request of a little boy who probably would not be going home. I asked myself why was I being logically and emotionally torn apart by someone I had never seen before and probably would never see again. ”Hold me.” 

It was such a simple request, and yet... I searched for any reasonable response that would allow me to leave. I could not come up with a single one. It took me a moment to realize that in this situation, losing my job may not be the disaster I feared. Was losing my job the worst thing in the world? Did I have enough self-belief that if I did lose my job, I would be able to pick up and start again? The answer was a loud, bold affirming “yes!” I could pick up and start again. So what was the risk? Just that if I lost my job, it probably would not be long before I would lose first my car, then my home...and to be honest with you, I really liked those things. But I realized that at the end of my life, the car would have no value and neither would the house. The only things that had steadfast value were experiences. Once I reminded myself that the real reason I was there was to bring a little happiness to an unhappy environment, I realized that I really faced no risk at all...

I sent Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa out of the room, and my two McDonald’s escorts out to the van. The nurse tending the medical equipment stayed, but Billy asked her to stand and face the corner. Then I picked up this little wonder of a human being. He was so frail and so scared. We laughed and cried for 45 minutes, and talked about the things that worried him. 

Billy was afraid that his little brother might get lost coming home from kindergarten next year, without Billy to show him the way. He worried that his dog wouldn’t get another bone because Billy had hidden the bones in the house before going back to the hospital, and now he couldn’t remember where he put them. These are problems to a little boy who knows he is not going home. 

On my way of the room, with tear-streaked makeup running down my neck, I gave Mom and Dad my real name and phone number (another automatic dismissal for Ronald McDonald, but I figured that I was gone and had nothing to lose), and said if there was anything the McDonald’s Corporation or I could do, to give me a call and consider it done... 

Less than 48 hours later, I received a phone call from Billy’s mom. She informed me that Billy had passed away. She and her husband simply wanted to thank me for making a difference in their little boy’s life. Billy’s mom told me that shortly after I left the room, Billy looked at her and said, “Momma, I don’t care anymore if I see Santa this year. 

Sometimes we must do what is right for the moment, regardless of the perceived risk. Only experiences have value, and the one biggest reason people limit their experiences is because of the risk involved. 

For the record, McDonald’s did find out about Billy and me, but given the circumstances, permitted me to retain my job. I continued as Ronald for another year before leaving the corporation to share the story of Billy and how important it is to take risks. 

Today could be the day; you find what you are searching for. Find it with a smile on your face! 
 

Wishing to encourage her young son's progress on the piano, a mother took her boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted a friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked "NO ADMITTANCE."

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing. Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing." Then leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in the bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child and he added a running obligatio. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed a potentially frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was absolutely mesmerized.

Whatever our situation in life and histories, however outrageous, however desperate, whatever dry spell of the spirit, whatever dark night of the soul, God is whispering deep within our beings, "Don't quit. Keep playing. You're not alone; together We will transform the broken patterns into a masterwork of Our creative art. Together, We will mesmerize the world with Our song of peace."

ANOTHER CUSTOMER SERVICE CALL.

Service Rep: Hello, you have reached the Heart Systems Software Company help desk. How may I help you? 

Customer: I just received your latest program, LOVEv4.0...you know....the freeware. I don't understand it. Can tell me how to install it? 

Service Rep: Sure thing ma'am. Do you have the installation disk and instructions with you? 

Customer: Yes I do, but first can you tell me what the program does?

Service Rep: Sure thing ma'am. LOVE is a unique program, there is no other like it in the world. LOVE attaches to your operating system and runs silently in the background, you will never see LOVE on your monitor or your toolbar, but you will notice its affect on every application you may have. It makes the good programs run smoother and greatly restricts and/or deletes the bad ones. 

Customer: Wow! That sounds great. How does LOVE make my machine run smoother? 

Service Rep Well, good sound files, like COMPLIMENT.WAV, ENCOURAGEMENT.WAV, and KINDWORD.WAV will play frequently. Also, FORGIVENESS.EXE will be invoked every time there is an external violation, including the ever-popular syntax errors. Also, all those irritating errors that say "unable to connect" will be avoided. LOVE allows for a smooth connection with external devices, regardless of what country it is manufactured in, the brand name, or the age of the model. 

Customer: That's exactly what I need, my machine has been isolated for too long. But what about the bad programs? 

CS Rep: Good question. LOVE searches your memory for programs like HATE.COM, BITTERNESS.EXE, SELFISH.COM, and SPITE.EXE. These programs can't be entirely deleted off your hard drive, but LOVE overpowers those programs. LOVE stops their commands from being executed and runs its own instructions. You will no longer hear INSULT.WAV and you won't be able to write with the fonts "BADWORDS12" or "HARSHNESS10". 

Customer: That's a fantastic program you have. Are the upgrades free too? 

CS Rep: They sure are ma'am. 

Customer: How do I get the upgrades?

CS Rep: That's easy. Once you have LOVE installed and running, it automatically copies a module, or a piece of itself, to every external Harddrive Email And Remote Terminal (HEART) that it comes in contact with. In turn, those external devices run whatever version of LOVE they have and return a module to your HEART. You will be upgraded with each and every module that you receive. But you have to remember, to receive the upgrades you have to be running LOVE and you have to come into contact with other computers while it is running. 

Customer: I can do that. I'm not very technical, but I think I am ready to install now. What do I do first?

CS Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma'am? 

Customer: Yes I have, but there are several programs running right now. Is it okay to install while they are running? 

CS Rep: What programs are running ma'am? 

Customer: Let me see....I have PASTHURT.EXE, LOWESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now. 

CS Rep: No problem. LOVE will automatically erase PASTHURT.EXE from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOWESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGHESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely turn off GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ma'am? 

Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how? 

CS Rep: My pleasure. Go to your Start menu and invoke FORGIVENESS.EXE. Do this as many times as necessary until GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM have been completely erased. 

Customer: Okay, I'm done. LOVE has started installing itself automatically. Is that normal? 

CS Rep: Yes it is. You should receive a message that says it will reinstall for the life of your HEART. Do you see that message? 

Customer: Yes I do. Is it completely installed? 

CS Rep: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other HEART's in order to get the upgrades. 

Customer: Oops.. .I have an error message already. What should I do?

CS Rep: What does the message say?

Customer: It says "ERROR 412 - PROGRAM NOT RUN ON INTERNAL COMPONENTS" What does that mean? 

CS Rep: Don't worry ma'am, that's a common problem. It means that the LOVE program is set up to run on external HEARTS but has not yet been run on your HEART. It is one of those complicated programming things, but In nontechnical terms it means you have to "LOVE" your own machine before it can "LOVE" others. 

Customer: So what should I do? 

CS Rep: Can you find the directory called "SELF-ACCEPTANCE"?

Customer: Yes, I have it. 

CS Rep: Excellent, you are getting good at this. 

Customer: Thank you. 

CS Rep: You're welcome. Click on the following files and then copy them to the "MYHEART" directory: FORGIVESELF.DOC, SELFESTEEM.TXT, REALIZEWORTH.TXT, and GOODNESS.DOC. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching any faulty programming. Also, you need to delete SELFCRITIC.EXE from all directories, and then empty your recycle bin afterwards to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back. 

Customer: Got it. Hey! My HEART is filling up with really neat files. SMILE.MPG is playing on my monitor right now and it shows that WARMTH.COM, PEACE.EXE, and CONTENTMENT.COM are copying themselves all over my HEART! 

CS Rep: Then LOVE is installed and running. You should be able to handle it from here. One more thing before I go...

Customer: Yes? 

CS Rep: LOVE is freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everybody you meet. They will in turn share it with other people and they will return some really neat modules back to you. 

Customer: I will. Thank you for your help.

Have A Wonderful Day! 

A message I just had to write to tell you how much I love you and care for you. Yesterday, I saw you walking and laughing with your friends; I hoped that soon you'd want Me to walk along with you, too..

So, I painted you a sunset to close your day and whispered a cool breeze to refresh you. I waited, you never called, I just kept on loving you..

As I watched you fall asleep last night, I wanted so much to touch you. I spilled moonlight onto your face- trickling down your cheeks as so many tears have. You didn't even think of me; I wanted so much to comfort you..

The next day I exploded a brilliant sunrise into a glorious morning for you. But you woke up late and rushed off to work-you didn't even notice. My sky became cloudy and My tears were the rain..

I love you. Oh, if you'd only listen. I really love you. I try to say it in the quiet of the green meadow and in the blue sky. The wind whispers My love throughout the treetops and spills it into the vibrant colors of the flowers. I shout it to you in the thunder of the great waterfalls and compose love songs for birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than the ocean and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care. I died just for you..

My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him. He cares, too..

Fathers are just that way. So please call Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait because I love you..

Your Friend, 

Jesus 
 

One Lasting Impression

He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischieviousness delightful.

Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day.

One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"

It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it.

I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."

At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in the third.

One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."

That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much!"

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.

That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."

Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend." To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark.

I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me.

The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water.

I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chucks farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that" Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

THE END written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosia