An Old Woman Says Thanks...
The following letter was forwarded by the principal's office at a small
junior high school in Memphis, Tennessee. The letter was sent after the
school had sponsored a luncheon for the elderly. This story is a credit to all
humankind.
Read it, soak it in, and bask in the warm feeling that it leaves you
with...
Dear Reyer School:
God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior
citizen's luncheon. I'm 94 years old and live at the Memphis County Home
for the Aged.
My family has long since passed away and I rarely have visitors. As a
result, I have very limited contact with the outside world. This makes
your gift especially welcome.
My roommate, Maggie Cook, has had her own radio for as long as I've
known her. She listens to it all the time, though usually with an
earplug or with the volume so low, I can't hear it. For some reason, she has never wanted to
share it.
Last Sunday morning, while listening to her morning gospel programs, she
accidentally knocked her radio off its shelf. It smashed into many
pieces, and caused her to cry. It was so sad. Fortunately, I had my new radio.
Knowing this, Maggie asked if she could listen to mine.
I told her to go fuck herself.
God bless you for your kindness to an old, forgotten lady.
Sincerely,
Edna Johnson
The following letter was forwarded by the principal's office at a small
junior high school in Memphis, Tennessee. The letter was sent after the
school had sponsored a luncheon for the elderly. This story is a credit to all
humankind.
Read it, soak it in, and bask in the warm feeling that it leaves you
with...
Dear Reyer School:
God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior
citizen's luncheon. I'm 94 years old and live at the Memphis County Home
for the Aged.
My family has long since passed away and I rarely have visitors. As a
result, I have very limited contact with the outside world. This makes
your gift especially welcome.
My roommate, Maggie Cook, has had her own radio for as long as I've
known her. She listens to it all the time, though usually with an
earplug or with the volume so low, I can't hear it. For some reason, she has never wanted to
share it.
Last Sunday morning, while listening to her morning gospel programs, she
accidentally knocked her radio off its shelf. It smashed into many
pieces, and caused her to cry. It was so sad. Fortunately, I had my new radio.
Knowing this, Maggie asked if she could listen to mine.
I told her to go fuck herself.
God bless you for your kindness to an old, forgotten lady.
Sincerely,
Edna Johnson