A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably coifed and shaved perfectly applied, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.

His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.

After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready. As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window. “I love it,” he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. Mr. Jones, you haven’t seen the room; just wait.”

That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” he replied. Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged … it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it “It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up.

I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.

Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away. Just for this time in my life. Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories!. Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.”

I have had various teachers, some knew they were teaching me something, but probably not the lesson I actually learned.  When I was about 14 years old, I sat in a fundamental Christian Sunday school class taught my a man named Neil.

I’m sure he didn’t expect me to learn the lesson I learned from him which was…”Oh my goodness… I’m in a church that thinks that if I’m not sitting in this church building at exactly the moment that Christ comes back to Earth to get us… I will go to Hell, no matter what I believe. AND, my friends, that don’t know they are supposed to be sitting in THIS church building at just the right moment, which we don’t know WHEN that will be, are also going to Hell. No second chances.” That was the moment I knew I was in the wrong place.  That was the moment I began to really think for myself.

Later, I had kids of my own by then, a pastor, in a much less strict church, admitted to me that there really was no place for me in his church. My depression was way too serious and I was way too suicidal. I was unable to go up to the “alter” (front of the church) and kneel, then jump up and turn around and smile with my arms up in the air and
“Praise God” for my healing.  The fact was that I left that place  feeling as depressed or worse than when I came in.

He was the first person that was honest with me.  He was able to help me to stop pretending I was healed or happy when I was miserable.  He finally gave me permission to stop lying to myself and to eeryone around me.  then I was able to move on into my own reality and find my own truth. I don’t know if he knew that was his gift to me, but I’m so glad he could do that for me.

Teachers teach us unexpected lessons, not only a surprise lesson for the studenet but maybe as the teacher as well.

What have you learned, and from whom have you learned your greatest lessons?