Katrina Katrinka was like any other ordinary mother with two kids, a station wagon, and a 60 foot tall crane in her back yard. The crane just showed up one morning. A construction company was building an apartment building down the street. One day the company went bankrupt, and left their crane in Mrs. Katrinka's back yard. They just went bankrupt, and left her with a 60 foot tall crane in her back yard.

Mrs. Katrinka didn't know what to do at first. But then she had an idea. She called the sanitation department in her town to come around and pick up the 60 foot tall crane. If you have an old couch, an old table, an old refrigerator, or an old washing machine, you can call the sanitation department, and they'll come around and pick it up.

You can guess what the sanitation department had to say about Mrs. Katrinka's crane. "Sorry, ma'am. We don't pick up 60 foot tall cranes. Old couches, old tables, old refrigerators, and old washing machines are fine. Large, 60 foot tall cranes are not fine."

Mrs. Katrinka was not the type of ordinary mother who lets a 60 foot tall crane sit around in her back yard. No, sirree. Not that type of ordinary mother at all.

So she bought a large wrench, and climbed up the tall 60 foot crane. She carefully climbed out onto the horizontal part of the crane, and unbolted one of the end sections. She happily climbed down and carried the steel section into her basement.

Her neighbors peered over the fence, wondering what on earth could this ordinary mother be doing with a steel section of crane in her basement. What the neighbors didn't know was that Mrs. Katrinka also bought an excellent power saw. This saw could cut through the toughest, hardest steel. And around the saw was a special padding that absorbed most of the high-pitched sound coming from the saw. (Mrs. Katrinka always used ear muffs and safety glasses when using the power saw. The ear muffs protected her ears from the loud sound of the saw, and the safety glasses protected her eyes from anything that might fly into her eyes.)

Day after day, Mrs. Katrinka would take one more section from the crane, carrying it carefully down into her basement. And night after night, she cut those sections up into little bits. These little bits of steel were easy enough to hide in her regular trash.

Some of the bits she stuffed in empty cans of tuna fish. Other bits she stuffed in the middle of over-ripe watermelons. And other bits she hid inside old smelly socks.

But it's hard to hide a full 60 foot crane in your day to day trash. You could hide a 2O foot crane, or a 3O foot crane. But a 60 foot crane is just too big to easily hide in the trash.

So Mrs. Katrinka started painting the sections of crane she took down each day. She painted them, and then welded them into interesting sorts of sculptures. When her basement became too full of sculptures, she set the sculptures out in her back yard.

It didn't take long for people to flock from all over the neighborhood to see Mrs. Katrinka's sculptures. One day, one of her neighbors walked right up her front steps and asked if she might buy one of the sculptures.

Well, Mrs. Katrinka didn't know what to say. She didn't make the sculptures to sell. She made the sculptures because it's hard to hide all the bits of a 60 foot crane in your trash.

On the very day that she took down the last section of the crane, the man who used to own the construction company came back to pick up his crane. "Sorry, sir," Mrs. Katrinka said.

"The crane you left in my back yard is no longer here anymore. It's hiding in empty cans of tuna fish, over-ripe watermelons, and old smelly socks. If you want to put it back together, you'll have to go looking through lots of empty tuna fish cans, over-ripe watermelons, and old socks."

"Well, ma'am," said the construction company man. "I really shouldn't have left that 60 foot crane in your back yard. It wasn't the right thing to do, and I'd like to apologize to you."

Mrs. Katrinka looked the man up and down. He looked as if you was genuinely sorry for what he had done.

"Oh, all right," Mrs. Katrinka said. "If you'd like to take home some of the 60 foot crane you left in my back yard, it's sitting right over there in those six sculptures."

"Six sculptures?" said the man, in wonder.

"Yes, six sculptures," replied Mrs. Katrinka. "Mrs. Olney down the street bought the seventh sculpture last week for $2OO."

"Well, the least I can do is buy the other six sculptures, at the same price," the man whispered gently.

"No. I'm sorry. That won't do," replied Mrs. Katrinka. "I can't sell all six of those sculptures. They mean too much to me now."

"But I tell you what. If you want to buy five of them, I won't complain too loudly about that. You can't expect me to give up all my wonderful sculptures to some stranger who left a 60 foot crane in my back yard."

"Yes, ma'am. It's too much to expect an ordinary mother to give up all six sculptures she made from a 60 foot tall crane that a total stranger left in her back yard."

As Mrs. Katrinka took the man's money, she laughed, "Besides, I need to keep at least one sculpture to show my grandchildren. They'll never believe this story if I didn't have at least one of the sculptures left to show them..."

Copyright 1995 by Phil Shapiro All Rights Reserved.
This story may be freely copied and distributed for noncommercial purposes. In particular, it may be freely used for any freeware or shareware software projects.

Bryan was flattered when Mr. Hudson asked him for the favor.

"I promised my kids a treat if they memorized their Scripture this quarter," said Mr. Hudson. He grinned. "A cookout at my house."

"My kids" meant the older man's Sunday School class. Bryan was in an older grade. His chest swelled when Mr. Hudson said, "I wondered if you'd show the younger kids how to bat. They all know you're the best batter on Mountville's Junior Team."

"Sure!" said Bryan. He bounced from one foot to the other. "When?"

Next Sunday afternoon," answered Mr. Hudson. "Maybe you could also say something about what Jesus means to you."

After promising to be there, Bryan walked off, excited. It was true. He was good at baseball. Bryan tried to be humble about it. He even prayed about it. He figured God had the right to make him strike out at a crucial time if he started showing off.

The next evening Bryan still felt good. The Mountville Tigers were playing the Lewistown Pirates. It was the last half of the last inning and the Pirates were ahead by one point. The spectators cheered when Bryan came up to bat for the Tigers. As Bryan took his batter's stance, he saw the pitcher of the opposing team was nervous. His arm tightened as he let loose the ball. It came right over the plate. Bryan's bat cracked it perfectly and sent it over the fence. Since a teammate was already on first base, Bryan's homer won the game for the Tigers.

Bryan, flushed with success, lobbed around the bases. At home plate his teammates swarmed over him. When a boy named Troy Bennett came over and slapped his back, Bryan's heart leaped. Troy was a player on the junior high team. Their game was over and Troy had walked over to watch the younger kids play.

"You did great," said Troy. "Some of the kids get together for baseball on the weekends. Why don't you come join us?"

Bryan could hardly breathe. It was an honor to be asked to play with the older kids. "When?" he asked.

"Sunday afternoon," answered Troy. "At the lot near the school."

Bryan gulped. The vision of Mr. Hudson swam across his eyes for a moment. He shook it off, though, and said, "Sure, I'll be there!"

As Troy walked away, Bryan's excitement dimmed a bit. He hated to disappoint Mr. Hudson, but it couldn't be helped. He may never get another chance like this. Think how much he'd learn about baseball hanging around with the older kids. No use putting it off, thought Bryan. When he got home, he picked up the telephone.

When Mr. Hudson came on the line, he surprised Bryan by saying, "Hello! I was just about to call you."

For a moment Bryan hoped Mr. Hudson was going to cancel his cookout. But then the man said, "I have another big favor to ask you. Something you could do after the cookout Sunday."

Mr. Hudson went on to tell Bryan that one of the boys in his class was rushed to the hospital that day. When Bryan made a sympathetic noise, he said, "Danny had his appendix taken out. He's weak, but okay. His mom says he's really upset about missing the cookout. I thought the class could visit him afterwards."

"You want me to go too?" asked Bryan.

"You're good enough to come play with the kids and even talk to them about Jesus," said Mr. Hudson. "I hate asking you to do one more thing. But Danny was especially sad about missing you."

Bryan had opened his mouth to explain he couldn't come at all. But when Mr. Hudson mentioned Jesus he clapped it shut. He felt if he said no to Mr. Hudson, he would somehow be saying no to Jesus. Letting out a slow breath, Bryan told the older man he'd be glad to visit Danny.

Now I have to tell Troy, thought Bryan after he hung up the phone.

He didn't see the older boy until later in the week. Bryan rode his bike past the lot where the older kids always hung out. He noticed Troy was standing alone, away from the others. Bryan figured it was his best chance tell him.

I doubt anyone has ever turned them down like this, thought Bryan. As he trudged toward Troy, he said a silent prayer. It brightened him slightly. Maybe God would use him as a witness to Troy. He decided he'd mention why he couldn't be there Sunday.

After greeting the older boy, Bryan launched into his speech. He became aware that Troy seemed withdrawn, even depressed. But he plowed on and ended by saying, "As a Christian I consider church stuff important. So I hope you understand."

For a moment Troy just stared at him. Then he shrugged and said, "Sure, that's okay."

When the older boy began to stare into space again, Bryan gave an awkward wave and said, "Well, see you around."

He was only a few feet away when Troy suddenly called, "We play all afternoon. Come after your church thing."

Groaning inwardly, Bryan turned and said, "Afterwards, I'm going with the kids to visit one of their classmates in the hospital."

For the first time, Troy's eyes became clear. "Really? My kid sister's in the hospital." His face wrinkled up. "She was in a bad car accident."

"Hey, I'm sorry," said Bryan. "Tell me her room number. We'll visit her too."

"That's really nice of you," said Troy, obviously moved. He motioned with his hand. "I'll probably be there, so I can visit your friend too."

Happiness swelling inside him, Bryan said, "See you on Sunday, then."

When he got back to his bike he stopped for a moment and silently thanked God. He was so glad he hadn't said no when Jesus asked him for a favor.

Copyright (c) 1998 by Letitia L. Zook
This work may be copied and distributed freely, but only in its entirety, including this copyright notice, and without any changes.

A man was on the side of the road with a large bird cage. A boy noticed that the cage was full of birds of many kinds. "Where did you get those birds?" he asked.

"Oh, all over the place," the man replied. "I lure them with crumbs, pretend I'm their friend then when they are close, I net them and shove them into my cage."

"And what are you going to do with them now?"

The man grinned, "I'm going to prod them with sticks, and get them really mad so they fight and kill each other. Those that survive, I will kill. None will escape."

The boy looked steadily at the man. What made him do such things? He looked into the cruel, hard eyes. Then he looked at the birds, defenseless, without hope.

"Can I buy those birds?" the boy asked.

The man hid a smile, aware that he could be on to a good thing if he played his cards right. "Well," he said hesitantly, "The cage is pretty expensive, and I spent a lot of time collecting these birds, I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll let you have the lot, birds, cage and all for ten pounds and that jacket you're wearing."

The boy paused, ten pounds was all he had, and the jacket was new and very special, in fact it was his prized possession. Slowly, he took out the ten pounds and handed it over, then even more slowly he took off his jacket, gave it one last look then handed that over too.

And then (well, you've guessed it) he opened the door and let the birds go free.

The Enemy of the world, Satan, was on the side of life's road with a very large cage. The man coming towards him noticed that it was crammed full of people of every kind, young, old, from every race and nation. "Where did you get these people?" the man asked.

"Oh, from all over the world," Satan replied. "I lure them with drink, drugs, lust, lies, anger, hate, love of money and all manner of things. I pretend I'm their friend, out to give them a good time, then when I've hooked them, into the cage they go."

"And what are you going to do with them now?" asked the man.

Satan grinned. "I'm going to prod them, provoke them, get them to hate and destroy each other; I'll stir up racial hatred, defiance of law and order; I'll make people bored, lonely, dissatisfied, confused and restless. It's easy. People will always listen to what I offer them and (what's better) blame God for the outcome!"

"And then what?" the man asked.

"Those who do not destroy themselves, I will destroy. None will escape me."

The man stepped forward. "Can I buy these people from you?" he asked.

Satan snarled, "Yes, but it will cost you your life."

So Jesus Christ, the Son of God, paid for your release, your freedom from Satan's trap, with His own life, on the cross at Calvary. The door is open, and anyone, whom Satan has deceived and caged, can be set free.

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high school by telling them the difference they each made. Using a process developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how the student made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons, and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure

The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people."

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down. He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He thinks I'm a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference' on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you. "My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"

The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."

There was a time, not long ago, when most people thought that blind people could never learn to read. People thought that the only way to read was to look at words with your eyes.

A young French boy named Louis Braille thought otherwise. Blind from the age of three, young Louis desperately wanted to read.

He realized the vast world of thought and ideas that was locked out to him because of his disability. And he was determined to find the key to this door for himself, and for all other blind persons.

This story begins in the early part of the nineteenth century. Louis Braille was born in 1809, in a small village near Paris.

His father made harnesses and other leather goods to sell to the other villagers. Louis' father often used sharp tools to cut and punch holes in the leather.

One of the tools he used to makes holes was a sharp awl. An awl is a tool that looks like a short pointed stick, with a round, wooden handle.

While playing with one of his father's awls, Louis' hand slipped and he accidentally poked one of his eyes. At first the injury didn't seem serious, but then the wound became infected.

A few days later young Louis lost sight in both his eyes. The first few days after becoming blind were very hard.

But as the days went by Louis learned to adapt and learned to lead and otherwise normal life. He went to school with all his friends and did well at his studies. He was both intelligent and creative. He wasn't going to let his disability slow him down one bit.

As he grew older, he realized that the small school he attended did not have the money and resources he needed. He heard of a school in Paris that was especially for blind students.

Louis didn't have to think twice about going. He packed his bags and went off to find himself a solid education.

When he arrived at the special school for the blind, he asked his teacher if the school had books for blind persons to read. Louis found that the school did have books for the blind to read.

These books had large letters that were raised up off the page. Since the letters were so big, the books themselves were large and bulky.

More importantly, the books were expensive to buy. The school had exactly fourteen of them.

Louis set about reading all fourteen books in the school library. He could feel each letter, but it took him a long time to read a sentence.

It took a few seconds to reach each word and by the time he reached the end of a sentence, he almost forgot what the beginning of the sentence was about. Louis knew there must be a better way.

There must be a way for a blind person to quickly feel the words on a page. There must be a way for a blind person to read as quickly and as easily as a sighted person.

That day he set himself the goal of thinking up a system for blind people to read. He would try to think of some alphabet code to make his 'finger reading' as quick and easy as sighted reading.

Now Louis was a tremendously creative person. He learned to play the cello and organ at a young age. He was so talented an organist that he played at churches all over Paris.

Music was really his first love. It also happened to be a steady source of income. Louis had great confidence in his own creative abilities.

He knew that he was as intelligent and ambitious as any other person his own age. And his musical talent showed how much he could accomplish when given a chance.

One day chance walked in the door. Somebody at the school heard about an alphabet code that was being used by the French army.

This code was used to deliver messages at night from officers to soldiers. The messages could not be written on paper because the soldier would have to strike a match to read it.

The light from the match would give the enemy a target at which to shoot. The alphabet code was made up of small dots and dashes.

These symbols were raised up off the paper so that soldiers could read them by running their fingers over them. Once the soldiers understood the code, everything worked fine.

Louis got hold of some of this code and tried it out. It was much better than reading the gigantic books with gigantic raised letters. But the army code was still slow and cumbersome. The dashes took up a lot of space on a page. Each page could only hold one or two sentences. Louis knew that he could improve this alphabet in some way.

On his next vacation home, he would spend all his time working on finding a way to make this improvement. When he arrived home for school vacation, he was greeted warmly by his parents. His mother and father always encouraged him on his music and other school projects. Louis sat down to think about how he could improve the system of dots and dashes. He liked the idea of the raised dots, but could do without the raised dashes.

As he sat there in his father's leather shop, he picked up one of his father's blunt awls. The idea came to him in a flash. The very tool which had caused him to go blind could be used to make a raised dot alphabet that would enable him to read.

The next few days he spent working on an alphabet made up entirely of six dots. The position of the different dots would represent the different letters of the alphabet. Louis used the blunt awl to punch out a sentence. He read it quickly from left to right. Everything made sense. It worked...

Copyright 1995 by Phil Shapiro All Rights Reserved.
This story may be freely copied and distributed for noncommercial purposes. In particular, it may be freely used for any freeware or shareware software projects.