Here’s a photo of Jackson Reverdy Orrell from a few months ago.
Here’s a photo of the Pop-Pop, Nana, and Jackson in the pool.
Here’s a photo from a few months ago with Jackson and his Daddy. Jackson is getting his first taste of Yoohoo.
Thanks to Bette Nutt for sending in the following:
A man in Topeka, Kansas, decided to write a book about churches around the country. He started by flying to New York and started working West from there. Going to a very large church, he began taking photographs and making notes. He spotted a golden telephone on the vestibule wall and was intrigued with a sign which read, Calls: $10,000 A Minute.’
Seeking out the pastor he asked about the phone and the sign. The Pastor answered that this golden phone is, in fact, a direct line to heaven and if he pays the price he can talk directly to God.
The man thanked the Pastor and continued on his way. As he continued to visit churches in Pittsburgh, Ohio, St. Louis, Chicago, Milwaukee, and around the United States, he found more phones, with the same sign and the same answer from each pastor.
Finally, he arrived in Montana. Upon entering St. Raphael’s church in Glasgow, behold – he saw the usual golden telephone. But THIS time, the sign read, ‘Calls: 35 cents.’
Fascinated, he asked to talk to the Pastor. ‘Reverend, I have been in cities all across the country and in each church I have found this golden telephone and have been told it is a direct line to heaven, and that I could talk to God, but in the other churches the cost was $10,000 a minute. Your sign reads only 35 cents a call. Why?’
The pastor, smiling benignly, replied,
‘Son, you’re in Montana now …… You’re in God’s country. It’s a local call.’
Thanks to Bette Nutt for sending in the following:
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things ‘in order,’ she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.
Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
‘There’s one more thing,’ she said excitedly.
‘What’s that?’ came the Pastor’s reply.
‘This is very important,’ the young woman continued. ‘I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.’
The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
That surprises you, doesn’t it?’ the young woman asked.
‘Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,’ said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. ‘My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming…like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!’
So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder ‘What’s with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them: ‘Keep your fork ..the best is yet to come.’
The Pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, ‘What’s with the fork?’ And over and over he smiled.
During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.
Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed.They make you smile and encourage you to succeed.
Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share … being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.
Sister Mary Ann, who worked for a home health agency, was out making her rounds visiting homebound patients when she ran out of gas. As luck would have it, a Texaco Gasoline station was just a block away. She walked to the station to borrow a gas can and buy some gas.
The attendant told her that the only gas can he owned had been loaned out, but she could wait until it was returned.
Since Sister Mary Ann was on the way to see a patient, she decided not to wait and walked back to her car. She looked for something in her car that she could fill with gas and spotted the bedpan she was taking to the patient. Always resourceful, Sister Mary Ann carried the bedpan to the station, filled it with gasoline, and carried the full bedpan back to her car.
As she was pouring the gas into her tank, two Baptists watched from across the street. One of them turned to the other and said
‘If it starts, I’m turning Catholic’