TIME15:37 Jun 06 2007
Times Read: 675
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. "Signatu re
> 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,"
>
> Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.
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