The Rose

by Jim Rohn
www.jimrohn.com

Lifestyle is style over amount. And style is an art - the art of living. You can't buy style with money. You can't buy good taste with money. You can only buy more with money. Lifestyle is culture - the appreciation of good music, dance, art, sculpture, literature, plays and the art of living well. It's a taste for the fine, the unique, the beautiful.

Lifestyle also means rewarding excellence wherever you find it by not taking the small things of life for granted. With Valentine's Day approaching I wanted to illustrate this with a personal anecdote.

Many years ago my lady friend and I were on a trip to Carmel, California for some shopping and exploring. On the way we stopped at a service station. As soon as we parked our car in front of the pumps, a young man, about eighteen or nineteen, came bouncing out to the car and with a big smile said, "Can I help you?"

"Yes," I answered. "A full tank of gas, please." I wasn't prepared for what followed. In this day and age of self-service and deteriorating customer treatment, this young man checked every tire, washed every window - even the sunroof - singing and whistling the whole time. We couldn't believe both the quality of service and his upbeat attitude about his work.

When he brought the bill I said to the young man, "Hey, you really have taken good care of us. I appreciate it."

He replied, "I really enjoy working. It's fun for me and I get to meet nice people like you."

This kid was really something!

I said, "We're on our way to Carmel and we want to get some milkshakes. Can you tell us where we can find the nearest Baskin-Robbins?"

"Baskin-Robbins is just a few blocks away," he said as he gave us exact directions. Then he added, "Don't park out front - park around to the side so your car won't get sideswiped."

What a kid!

As we got to the ice cream store we ordered milkshakes, except that instead of two, we ordered three. Then we drove back to the station. Our young friend dashed out to greet us. "Hey, I see you got your milkshakes."

"Yes, and this one is for you!"

His mouth fell open. "For me?"

"Sure. With all the fantastic service you gave us, I couldn't leave you out of the milkshake deal."

"Wow!" was his astonished reply.

As we drove off I could see him in my rear-view mirror just standing there, grinning from ear to ear.

Now, what did this little act of generosity cost me? Only about two dollars - you see, it's not the money, it's the style.

Well, I must have been feeling especially creative that day, so on our arrival in Carmel I drove directly to a flower shop. As we walked inside I said to the florist, "I need a long-stemmed rose for my lady to carry while we go shopping in Carmel."

The florist, a rather unromantic type, replied, "We sell them by the dozen."

"I don't need a dozen," I said, "just one."

"Well," he replied haughtily, "if you only want one it will cost you two dollars."

"Wonderful," I exclaimed. "There's nothing worse than a cheap rose."

Selecting the rose with some deliberation, I handed it to my friend. She was so impressed! And the cost? Two dollars. Just two dollars. A bit later she looked up and said, "Jim, I must be the only woman in Carmel today carrying a rose." And I believe she probably was.

Can you imagine the opportunity to create magic with those around you, and all for the cost of a few dollars, some imagination and care?

Remember, it is not the amount that matters but the thought and care that often has the greatest impact upon those you love.

Jim Rohn, America's Foremost Business Philosopher, reprinted with permission from Jim Rohn International C 2011. As a world-renowned author and success expert, Jim Rohn touched millions of lives during his 46-year career as a motivational speaker and messenger of positive life change. For more information on Jim and his popular personal achievement resources or to subscribe to the weekly Jim Rohn Newsletter, visit www.JimRohn.com

© Copyright Jim Rohn International.
All Rights Reserved Worldwide

The Baggy Yellow Shirt by Patricia Lorenz

Used with permission of the author

The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away. "You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!"

"It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom. Thanks!" I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object. The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it. After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.

The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier. That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again.

The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!

And so the pattern was set.

On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. the yellow shirt was just what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.

In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In Ephesians, I read, "So use every piece of God's armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing up."

I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but all I saw was me wearing the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me. Wasn't my mother's love a piece of God's armor? My courage was renewed.

Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer.

Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast pocket were the words "I BELONG TO PAT."

Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, " BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER." But I didn't stop there. I zig-zagged all the frayed seams, then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official looking letter from "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box. But, of course, she never mentioned it.

Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. the day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. Inside a pocket was a note: "Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother."

That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found the verses: "I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I am. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they do, you will believe in me."

The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following year at age 57.

I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave. But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets to wear to art class.

Patricia Lorenz

Patricia Lorenz is an internationally-known inspirational, art-of-living writer and speaker and the author of twelve books:

• 
  
  Positive Quotes for Every Day Publications International Ltd. To be released August 2010
• The Five Things We Need To Be Happy Guideposts Books Dec. 2008
• Daily Devotions for Writers Infinity Publishing released April 1, 2008
• Chicken Soup for the Chocolate Lover's Soul HCI 2007
• Chicken Soup for the Tea Lover's Soul HCI 2007
• Chicken Soup for the Dieter's Soul Daily Inspirations HCI 2007
• Life’s Too Short to Fold Your Underwear Guideposts Books paperback 2007
• True Pilot Stories  Infinity Publishing 2005
• Life's Too Short to Fold Your Underwear Guideposts Books hardback 2004
• Grab the Extinguisher, My Birthday Cake's On Fire! Guideposts Books 2004
• Great American Outhouse Stories   Infinity Publishing 2004
• A Hug a Day for Single Parents Servant Publications 1997
• Stuff That Matters for Single Parents  Servant Publications 1996

Patricia is one of the top contributing writers in the country to the Chicken Soup for the Soul books with stories in over 50 of the Chicken Soup books so far as well as being co-author for three of them. She's had over 400 articles published in numerous magazines and newspapers; is a contributing writer for nineteen Daily Guideposts books; four dozen anthologies; and an award-winning newspaper columnist.  Patricia raised two daughters and two sons in Wisconsin as a single parent, and now lives in Florida, where she loves her empty nest and the freedom to follow her dreams while she's still awake.  You can visit her website at: http://www.patricialorenz.com/ or email Patricia at: patricialorenz@juno.com