My Christmas Miracle, Paying it back by paying it forward

My unexpected gift

Recently, I was in line at the Starbucks drive thru to get my morning boost before heading up the mountain for a powder day. I was behind an old  Chevy Chevette that resembled a car I had in the 80's...it was even red. When I pulled up to the window, the barista informed me that my drink had been paid for by the lady in that rusty red Chevette.  Recognizing the pay it forward that happens frequently at Starbucks,  I asked her how long this one had been going.  The Barista said I was the first one that day. I kept the chain going with a smile on my face and a grateful heart thanks to that young mom in the rust bucket Chevy.

As the day progressed, my thoughts returned to that little old Chevette that I owned 35 years ago and the struggles I had as a young father trying to by and provide for his family.

In 1984, Christmas was approaching and my young family was struggling to survive. The Unemployment  rate was  high, and I was having difficulty finding a job. Bills were not getting paid, and I had already received several summons on unpaid medical bills.

Earlier, in the spring, broke and broken,  I had interrupted college to complete Army Basic Training in order to be able to have money to finish my degree.  The student Loan repayment bonus offered by the National Guard was too good to pass up.  After completion of the training, my ambitious plans hit a brick wall of  disappointment as applications and interviews all informed me I was either, over or under qualified for the job.   I spent 4 months trying  to obtain work and get out of living in my Mothers house.

I had given up hope when a small miracle happened; an old High school friend was able to give me a job at a waterbed Manufacturing plant for Minimum wage.. $3.35 an hour.  Two weeks later,  another miracle,  a coworker of my brother offered us a basement apartment that had been destroyed by renters.  My young family received the first months rent free in exchange for cleaning the place up.

And then  one month later, in another incredible miracle, I received an Offer of Employment from The Internal Revenue  Service doubling my salary and launching a 35 year career where I have risen to the highest levels one can reach in government service.

Paying it Back

Having been on the receiving end of the pay it forward that day, I thought I had done my part at that Starbucks by paying for the next persons drink.  I found out that my gift was not there, but, at the Black Bear Diner where I went for lunch.

The diner was jammed, and being alone, I grabbed the last seat at the end of  the counter.  My server,
 a young slender girl who reminded me of my eldest daughter, took my order.  She looked exhausted and troubled, yet managed a smile and kept checking in on me even though it was taking forever to get my food to me.  After 45 Minutes, she brought my order, the check, apologized for how long it took and told me my drink was on her due to the inconvenience.

I felt prompted  to do something for her and quietly slipped $40 under my drink glass with a note that simply said "Hope you have a Merry Christmas".

I rushed to the register with my ticket and felt my pay it forward was complete.  My young server was working the register and wouldn't see my gift till I was  gone.

My  Christmas Miracle

I walked to my truck and as I was climbing in, I felt a touch on my shoulder, I turned around and received a huge hug from that server, who informed me that she was down because she hadn't had any money her young son's Christmas present,  and now she would be able to get it  She told me I was her Christmas angel and that she would never forget me. I mumbled Merry Christmas and drove away.

Pay it forward and pay it back.  You will never know greater joy than I did in that brief moment.

I often wonder what would have happened to my life if I hadn't ran into that high school friend ...or if the guy hadn't offered us that stinky old apartment...Or the many other family Friends and Strangers hadn't helped me out in my desperate hour of need.

We have all struggled in this life and friends, families ,and strangers have helped all of us make it to the next day its why we are all here together.

May your Christmas be merry and bright.

There are angels among us.  They are you and me. 
If you feel the need to help someone.  Do it. 

If you are worried about whether they will waste your  money, you are missing the whole point.

Everyone needs help sometimes

Some deserve it, some don't.  What you give is a gift of love.  No conditions or expectations.

Pay it back by paying it forward.

Ragnar 2019: My band of heroes

Every now and then, if you are lucky, you get a small glimpse of heaven.  Today was one of those days. Thanks to good friends and total strangers

Each day, as the morning light breaks over the mountains,  we grind out the  the chores of existing,  often forgetting about the small things that make life worth  living.

I love to run...the fever caught me when I was 10 years old and I enjoyed the sport and the tranquility it brought to my soul until I was 50 years old.   I was also pretty good at it, having run a   sub 3 hour Marathon and a 4:08 mile.  It was my drug of choice in my youth and I found myself constantly chasing the endorphins that every run would deliver.

All that changed  on a dark Atlanta road  in May 1998 in the middle of a 10 mile run after work.  I collapsed on the side of the road gasping for air;  Thinking I was just tired after working a 60 hour week, I shrugged it off,  I rose to my feet and started a slow jog back to the Hotel.  Five Minutes later, I collapsed again gasping for air...I slowly rose and walked back to my Room and flew home the following morning; only to be taken to the emergency room that night.

I mostly recovered  from that episode and returned to running with very few limitations, but, a series of heart attacks in Feb. 2009 left my heart severely damaged.  I tried to return to the sport I love, but, my damaged heart  left me very close to a heart transplant and I was forced to let it go.

As the popularity of  running exploded in America, everyone seemed to catch the bug, including my friend of 25 years, Cara Garr.  More than a friend, she  became the sister I always wanted to have.  She asked me for some tips about training  for a 5k she had decided to complete in about 7 years ago.  I enjoyed coaching her and  she grew to love the sport, completing  many half marathons.

Though I enjoyed hearing her talk about her races, I would find myself longing to feel my heart pumping and lungs burning as my legs churned out mile after after mile..sending me into that high that only true disciples of the sport understand.

Two Months ago,  I was informed that my friends and 6 total strangers were  forming a Ragnar team to compete in the Wasatch Back country.  I was told the teams name...usually a funny metaphor, was heart and Sole..

That's  a nice play on words I thought...but not overly funny... Then I was told they were dedicating the run to me because my heart can't. I promised to be at the finish line to greet them.

Today, I felt a satisfaction and joy as great as any race I finished.  Its difficult to describe the emotions  and gratitude that rolled over me as they crossed the Finish line together.

Thank you to all of my friends.. and new friends on Team Heart and Sole for letting me share a part of this day with you

Bolivia, A story of Faith and Redemption

Those who know me, know my life has been blessed beyond anything I could have hoped.   A richly colored tapestry of experiences. .. Good, bad, happy, sad, the greatest of successes and the most miserable failures have helped me to become …me.

Recently, I received a post on Facebook from a friend I have never met in person.   She and her family, were celebrating the 40th year they have been Members of the LDS Church.  I was privileged to lead her family down into the waters of baptism before she was  conceived.

Social media is a two edged  sword , along with the bad, one of the good things  for me is the ability to connect with Friends and family I not seen for years or even had opportunity to meet…Including my young friend from Bolivia, celebrating events from decades ago and thousands of miles away.

When I was a young man of 17, I had a religious awakening.   It was actually more than a awakening...more a yearning to find peace in my troubled life.   Over the previous 3 years, life had beaten its stark, uncaring reality into me.  My father died when I was 14.  During the same time frame, my mother was diagnosed with Breast cancer and underwent a radical Mastectomy. 

My Life was uprooted and I was forced to move from the place and friends I loved an Anchorage, Alaska to Orem Utah.   Utah was a foreign land to me, but, where my roots began and filled with family and two aging Grandparents whom my mother, In the midst of her battle with Cancer and mourning the death of her husband, could help take care for in their last years.

My grandparents passing by my 17^th Birthday left me depressed.  I was angry and contemplated suicide is an escape from me grief.  So many loved ones gone so quickly, left me stunned.

I began to yearn for answers.  One Night, I randomly grabbed the Bible and as I thumbed thru it, I came across th  verses from Matthew 11:28, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls”

My soul filled with peace…and rest.  I committed myself then and there, to pursue the faith of my mother’s family and made the decision to serve a Mission for the Mormon Church.

I was 19 when I arrived in Bolivia during September 1978.  Armed with a stammering, rudimentary knowledge of Spanish, and a lot of will, I began my mission.

The  initial cultural shock leaving the USA for the first time, filled my my young soul  with angst and fear.  How could a people so poor even survive.  Let alone find joy. I resolved to stay the course and every day, put one foot in front of the other.  As I learned more about the amazing people who live there . My fear turned to a sense of wonder and awe.

Though poverty was prevalent, I learned over that two-year period that happiness was tied to one’s soul and family…not their possessions .  Still grieving the losses in my life, I dealt with my depression, anger and pain by pouring myself into teaching and sharing with the good people of Bolivia the peace and contentment that religion had brought into my life.

The first of those people, was the young family of Demetrio and Margarite Flores Hurtado. Many A night we spent with the Flores Family sharing with them our experiences and listening to their life story. While Demetrio and Margarite thought I was teaching them, in reality, they taught me that:

• Love of family is the most important thing in life.
• Life is full of Joy and worth living
• No matter where you live, your race or creed, we are all the same ...searching for happiness and a better life for our children.

Demetrio also taught me how to play tennis.

The young family decided to become members of the LDS faith.  I was honored to be asked to baptize them as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  They were the first of many great people I was was honored to help.  That moment with Demetrio and his family was a turning point in my Life.

I learned that  the Key element to fighting depression, is to discover or rediscover your purpose in life.  Watching the young Flores Family happiness grow, helped me realize that My life did have a purpose and I could help other people.

That sharing a part of my soul and experience was a good thing and helped other people as much if not more than it helped me. My Depression faded and My soul grew as I worked and did my best to help the Bolivian people. 

I soon moved on to another city and lost touch with Demetrio. This was nothing unusual in those days…. There was no Internet access or Social media tools back then other than written mail that took weeks to deliver.

Many years passed till the late 1990’s when I received a phone call. Though My Spanish was quite rusty after 20 years of neglect, I immediately recognized the voice of my old friend Demetrio.  My heart leapt with Joy to hear from him again.  We met in Salt Lake City where I learned he was visiting to translate the Book of Mormon into the Quechua language.  As we reminisced, I could smell the Anticuhos cooking on the street corners, the chattering of the Cholitas pouring the glasses of mocochinchi,and hear the sounds of the streets of Cochabamba in that Small hotel room next to the Salt Lake Temple.  As I left, I felt that warmness that only two friends can share.

Another decade passes.  I receive a FB friend request from one of the Flores children.  Soon after I was in touch with the whole family and their posterity… While many preach of the evils of Social media, I tell you…For me, it has been a blessing. 

The young Bolivian friend celebrating her families 40^th anniversary, and who friended me is named Nefia.  She is named for Nephi, an important figure in Mormon Scripture.She was born after I had left to go to another City.

She thanked me for helping her family.  The reality is, that Her Father and mother, before she was born, saved me, in every way possible.  For that I will always be grateful.

Even as I have left the religion of my ancestors firmly behind me, I will never forget the salvation and purpose  I found in a humble home on the outskirts of  city called Cochabamba from the Flores family.  They gave me more than I ever gave them.

So, Felicades por 40 anos, querida familia Flores. Los amos a todos!