*THE BRIDGE*

There was a man who had given much thought to what he wanted from life. He had experienced many moods and trials. He had experimented with different ways of living and he had had his share of success and failure. At last, he began to see clearly where he wanted to go.

Diligently, he proceeded to find the right opportunity. Sometimes he came close, only to be pushed away. Often he applied all his strength and imagination, only to find the path hopelessly blocked. And then at last it came. But the opportunity would not wait. It would be made available only for a short time. If it were seen that he was not commited, the opportunity would not come again.

Eager to arrive, he started on his journey. With each step, he wanted to move faster; with each thought about his goal, his heart beat quicker, with each vision of what lay ahead, he found renewed vigor. Strength that had left him since his early youth returned and all kinds of dormant desires reawakened within him.

Hurrying along, he came upon a bridge built high above a river in order to protect it from the floods of spring. He started across. Then he noticed someone coming from the opposite direction. As they drew closer, it seemed as though the other were coming to greet him. He could see clearly; however that he did not know this person who was dressed similarly except for something tied around his waist.

When they were within hailing distance, he could see that what the other had around his waist was a rope. It was wrapped around him several times and probably, if extended, would reach a length of 30 feet.

Just as he was noticing this fact, the other began to uncurl the rope, and as they were coming close, the other said "Pardon me, would you be so kind as to hold the end a moment?"

Surprised by this request, which was made so politely, he agreed without a thought, reached out and took it.

"Thank you" said the other, then added, "two hands now, and remember, hold tight". At that point the other jumped off the bridge.

Within a second the free-falling body hurled the distance of the rope's length and from the bridge he instantly felt the pull. Instinctively, he held tight. The weight almost dragged him off the bridge. He managed to brace himself against the edge; however, and after having caught his breath, looked down at the other dangling distantly, close to oblivion.

"What are you trying to do?" he yelled.

"Just hold tight" said the other.

"This is ridiculous" he thought and began trying to haul the other in. He could not get the leverage; however. It wasn't as though the weight of the other person and the length of the
rope had been carefully calculated in advance so that together they created a counter weight just beyond his strength to bring the other back to safety.

"Why did you do this?" he called out.

"Remember," said the other, "if you let go, I will be lost".

"But I cannot pull you up" he cried.

"I am your responsibility" said the other.

"Well, I did not ask for it" he said.

"If you let go, I am lost" repeated the other.

He began to look around for help. But there was none. How long would he have to wait? Why did this happen to befall him now? "Just as I was on the verge of true success." He examined the side searching for a place to tie the rope. Some protrusion, perhaps, or maybe a hole in the boards. But the railing was unusually uniform in shape; there were no spaces between the boards. There was no way to get rid of this new found burden, even temporarily.

"What do you want?" he asked the other hanging below.

"Just your help" the other answered.

"How can I help? I cannot pull you in and there is no place to tie the rope so that I can go find someone to help me help you."

"I know that" said the other. "Just hang on, that will be enough. Tie the rope around your waist, it will be easier".

Fearing that his arms could not hold out much longer, he tied the rope around his waist.

"Why did you do this?" he repeated. "Don't you see what you have done? What possible purpose could you have had in mind?"

"Just remember," said the other "my life is in your hands."

What should he do? "If I let go, all my life I will know that I let this other die. If I stay, I risk losing my momentum towards my own long sought after salvation. Either way this will haunt me forever". With ironic humor he thought to die himself, instantly, to jump off the bridge while still holding on. "That would teach this fool". But he wanted to live and to live life fully. "What a choice I have to make; how shall I ever decide?"

Some time went by, but still no one came. The critical moment of decision was drawing near. To show his commitment to his own goals, he would have to continue on his journey now. It was already almost too late to arrive in time. But what a terrible choice to make.

A new thought occured to him. While he could not pull this other up by his own efforts alone, if the other would shorten the rope from his end by curling it around his waist again, together they could do it. Actually, the other could do it by himself, as long as he, standing on the bridge, kept it still and steady.

"Now listen, he shouted down. "I think I know how to save you." Then he explained his plan.

But the other wasn't interested.

"You mean you won't help? But I told you I cannot pull you up myself, and I don't think I can hold on much longer either."

"You must try" the other shouted back in tears. "If you fail, I die".

The point of decision has arrived. What should he do? What an impossible decision to have to make. "My life or this others?" And then a new idea, a really new idea. So new, in fact, it almost bordered on revelation, so foreign was it to his traditional way of thinking.

"I want you to listen carefully," he said, "because I mean what am about to say. I will not accept the position of choice for your life, only for my own, the position of choice for your life I give back to you."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, afraid.

"I mean, simply, it's up to you. You decide which way this ends. I will become the counterweight. You do the pulling and bring yourself up. I will even tug a little from here." He began unwinding the rope from around his waist, and braced himself anew against the side.

"You cannot mean what you say," the other shrieked. "You would not be so selfish. I am your responsibility. What can be so important that you would let someone die. Do not do this to me."

He waited a moment. There was no change in the tension of the rope.

"I accept your choice," he said, at last, and freed his hands.


(anonymous author)

*A TRIBUTE TO MINERVA FRANCES BALLARD*

I have missed her deeply since the day I traveled to Troy, Ohio to her funeral and met her brothers and sisters from Mississippi attending her funeral. Her sister Susie looked so much like her it made me cry. I had never met any of her people, the Ballards, from Mississippi, but I would have loved to have know them.
My grandmother married my grandfather, Cecil (in picture above), as a young girl and moved to Kentucky with him. She bore him 4 sons, losing one at birth. She lost my dad, Stanley Eugene Ballard before her death and I know that it literally broke her heart. Since I have lost a child at almost the very same age that my grandma did, I understand the pain that she suffered at the time.
My grandma was in the room of the home on Simpson Street when I was born. I was her first grandchild and I was the girl she always wanted. My mother had already decided my name was going to be Linda Diane, but my grandmother convinced her to name me Charlotte Diane. Charlotte was a dear friend of hers that I never knew growing up, but I have her name just the same.
My grandmother literally doted on me the moment I was born and loved me deeply until the day she died.We moved from Ohio when I was barely 9 years old. It was extremely difficult leaving my grandmother in Ohio. She solved that problem by having my Dad drive me to Ohio the very minute that school let out. I stayed with her for the whole summer, just returning to Michigan when it was time to go back to school.
My grandmother ran a boarding house for men in Ohio. She also had a gentlemen who worked for the railroad have only his meals every day at her immaculate, well-maintained home. This was her source of income since she had no skills, marrying as young as she did. I grew up around her roomers and boarders and remember each one of them fondly. She also lived in sin with a man named Preston Cross for years and they had a wonderful relationship until the day he died. I never questioned why they didn't marry, but I never associated her with my grandpa Cecil. Preston was like a grandpa to me as well. My grandmother doted on me when I stayed with her.
I remember going to a dry-goods store and going up to their upper floor by way of the old creaky wooden stairs and looking through all of the books of paper dolls, and at the coloring books, and the crayons. My grandma would just tell the shop owner, "give the girl whatever she wants", she was like that. I didn't just get a box of crayons, I got the big box with the gold, silver and copper crayons! She was so good to me. I thought all grandmas were like that.
She would take me to the County Fair in Ohio and would say "let's have our picture made" and we did. I didn't know until recently that her real name was Minerva Frances. She went by Frances. I remember the fragrance of that dry-goods store, the fragrance of the paper doll books and crayons, and it is comforting to be able to remember them.
My travels to my grandmothers house in the summer continued all of my young life. I even stopped and stayed at her house on the way to Florida for my honeymoon. She was so glad that I did. She would write letters to me faithfully until her fingers became so crippled with arthritis that she couldn't. She then had a friend write as she dictated.
I traveled to Ohio to see her in the hospital right before she died. I remember brushing her beautiful, long, black hair that grew to the middle of her back. She never dyed her hair, but it was a lustrous black until the day she died, just like my Dads. She was confused during her last hospitalization, but told me that she had heard them 'calling me' over the hospital intercom to come to her side, and now, here I was. That was the last time I would ever see her alive.
Minerva Frances was a very special part of my life and I will always love her and honor her memory. I like to believe that my Leslie is now with her and enjoying her like I did. I took Leslie on a train once to see her when Leslie was a toddler and my grandma showered her with the same love she always gave me. I am convinced she will know her when she sees her now................

July is almost over and I am thankful. I lost my Dad, my Grandmother Minerva Frances and my daughter, Leslie Susan in the month of July. It is a very hard month to get through but I am convinced they are all in a better place.

*FRAGRANCE MEMORIES*

My aunt Ruth is the beginning of my love for fragrance............she had this gorgeous tray of beautiful colored bottles of her fragrance on display in her bathroom. She never owned just one bottle, she owned 35 of them (or more). As a little girl, and I mean little, when my Mom would take me to visit, I loved looking at that beautiful display. All different colors of gorgeous bottles with the mirror enhancing their sparkling colors. She said she was a 'woman of many moods' and needed different fragrances to enhance that day's mood. She was always the 'eccentric' aunt, and I adored her. During the Bicentennial year in Dayton, Ohio, she wore a red, white and blue wig to the Dayton Mall as a sign of her patriotism. She fed every bird for miles in her backyard. She had a host of cats and dogs, but her house was always immaculate. She even had a flying squirrel that had a huge cage and it's own bedroom. She had funerals and buried each and every animal at a pet cemetary and visited them as you would any grave. Gosh, I miss her so, just remembering her. Everyone says I take after her, I hope I do......she started my love of fragrance and I will always love her.

*ANT GODS* (from Story People)

I dug up an anthill once

And my friend told me the ant gods would come to get me in my dreams

And I said I didn't believe him,

But later that night I went down & tried to put the anthill back together

I even added some lettuce & mashed potatoes

And a pork chop from dinner

In case they'd been too busy to eat

I never heard from the ant gods,

so I figure it worked out.

*FIGHTING CHANCE*

What do I get for this? I said

And the angel gave me a catalog filled with toasters

And clock radios

And a basketball signed by Michael Jordan

And I said, But this is just stuff

Then the angel smiled at me

And swallowed me in her arms.

I'm so glad you said that, she whispered to me.

I knew you still had a chance.

*From Story People by Brian Andreas