Last evening I attended the American Cancer Society's Annual Charlotte Gala.  

A fundraiser - yes.  Also a friend raiser, a hope giver, and an opportunity to show we care. 

The stories were moving.  The statistics scary.  The hope alive and well.  

Above all else, what we heard and saw was caring.  People caring about people.

People of all ages caring about our future.  People digging deep - some into shallow pockets,

others into grateful pockets.  No one knew their names - they were just a paddle number that cared. 

What happened as caring number one grew to two, then three, then one hundred and three?

The answer is that hope wanting to make a difference and realizing we can is contagious. 

We just need those special people brave enough to raise the first paddle, and say 'I care.'

Thanks to all the anonymous caring numbers. 

Because of you I left the Gala feeling hopeful about our future.

# # #

Recently I was invited to meet with several amazing young women. They forewarned, it was to ask advice about a challenge they were facing.

I was honored, of course.

Generations set us apart.  I asked myself - How could my thoughts possibly be helpful today?  

I presented this question to my, son who responded - 

Remember Robert Frost's quote: The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.  

After a few minutes mulling over how he got to be so smart I turned to more mulling. This time about we 'afternoon' people.  

Why should we think what we know is not worth sharing? Surely we've learned knowledge is useless unless it is shared.

Why should we stop taking on challenges because we grow old. 

Fact is, we grow old because we stop taking on challenges. 

Talking about pay telephones is not useful, but it's fun. We need fun.  Suggesting words to use in difficult situations. Invaluable. And not taught in schools.  We need guidance.

When sharing  thoughts from the archives I keep in mind Kenny Rogers words: Know when to hold. Know when to fold.  Translated to Know what to share.  Know what to spare.  It seems to work.

Here's to more shared mornings and afternoons.  We can learn a lot from each other.

# # #

Today, determined to downsize my hoard of books, I set about this difficult task.  I plead guilty of being easily distracted. 

All went smoothly with the DIY shelf. My sons will confirm, I rarely read instructions, much less DIY books.  Most are still pristine. Out they go.

The same with cook books.  I never follow recipes.  My recipe is what do I have handy? The meal results are definitely mixed. The Barefoot Contessa would be proud.

Money and investment books.  I scanned Tyler Cowen's  Create Your Own Economy.  It begins by telling me the physical design of the IPod is compelling.  My bookmark is stuck in page seven. I can part with this.

The box is filling up.

And then - the distraction: Books I've received as gifts. Books as a gift, unless you know the recipient well, or the title was requested, is chancy.   My friends seem to know me well.  I had to read every message.  Recall each individual.  Thumb prints and spilled coffee adorn many pages.

It was a glorious afternoon.  Thanks to all the book givers, readers, and authors. You make life more interesting.

# # # 

Years ago Robert and I were at a major event in the UK.  We were identified as International guests by large ribbons

pinned to our jackets. A youngster approached us - looking at this spectacle with big eyes - and asked 'Are you somebody?'

Our response was, well we hope so - everybody is somebody you know.  Our inquisitive young friend responded 'Oh, am I

somebody?'  Her name, we discovered, was Marlene.  Oh yes, we assured her. You are Marlene - a very important somebody.

It was a fun exchange; but it made us think.  Why do we presume those who are bedecked with crowns, titles, wealth,

and ribbons are more special, more important somebodies, than we are?  

Our family's early lessons included: Always remember you are just as good as, but no better than, anyone else you meet. 

It didn't include richer than, poorer than, smarter than. It was: Don't over or underestimate yourself.

Out of the mouths of babes and curious youngsters.

# # # 

My grandniece, who is six years old, and lives in the UK, just returned from a momentous trip to Paris Disneyland.  What made it momentous is that Isabella had a liver transplant when she was 18 months old. 

What makes it even more momentous is that the entire trip for Isabella and her mom was a gift from hundreds of cab drivers, the Lord Mayor of London, Bands, Volunteers – so many whose hearts expanded.  So many who cheered ‘Bravo.’ You can do it.’   This video  along with smiling photos from Isabella brought a happy tear or two.

How did Isabella grow to be a runner, a smart student, a joyous independent youngster? From the time she could talk, she let her family know ‘I can do it myself.’  She lined up, in perfect order, her required medications; she took setbacks calmly – no fussing please. She spoke to her pre-school class about her medical adventures. She was in charge of herself.

We have a success story here because her smart family allowed her to do it herself.  Her parents watched closely.  She wasn’t always successful.  She kept trying.  

Isabella has taught me that if I am tempted, which is often, to jump in when a child or adult says ‘I can do it myself.’  Stand back.  Thanks Isabella. 

And the winner is ISABELLA

The day is gloomy.  My mood is a close match. Thoughts of a trip to the grocery store aggravate my mind.  My knee hurts.  Woe is me.

And then – I open an email, and here is a message from an old friend.

Just a brief message that says: Thinking of you. 

That’s all it takes.  The day got brighter.  Fun memories of my friend push the gloom away. Even the grocery store seems more inviting.  I'll add rum raisin ice cream to my list. My knee really isn’t so bad after all.  Life is good.

Knowing someone cares.  Someone is thinking about you. It’s magical medicine.  Perhaps I’ll add this proven prescription to my ‘life saving’ file.  

Thanks friend. Thinking of you.

# # #

This morning, a friend called.  He'd listened to my potential problem. Figured it would cause me angst. He wanted to offer a wonderful solution. A solution that would involve time and work for him. Years ago, my response might have been: Thank you, BUT I’m OK, I can handle this. Today I'm a little wiser.

It's possible you believed, as I did – that ‘with age comes wisdom.’  We keep waiting.  This wisdom never seems to arrive. Perhaps that’s because when it does show up most of us don’t recognize it. Why is that?

Perhaps it's because ‘wisdom’ comes in many disguises.  It comes slowly.  It comes when we hear ourselves saying ‘I understand, and you are right – that would be wonderful -  thank you.’  And our acknowledgement is not followed by the word … but!

My measure of wisdom is in remembering. Remembering perfection is not necessary. Remembering ‘doing it all’ is impossible. Remembering money is not our most important asset.  Remembering to be grateful. Remembering to listen. Remembering children learn by example. So much to learn from remembering.

The dictionary says Wisdom involves three components: Cognitive. Reflective. Compassionate.  Recalling my friend's call this morning - I would add intuitive.   My friend understood. 

My personal 'wisdom' was in simply offering a sincere 'thank you' and dropping the 'but.'   Sometimes that's all it takes.

###

The recent Heavy Load Grasshopper resulted in many heart warming and thoughtful comments.  Each writer shared a lesson in courage.

One response touched me deeply.  I thought I knew David Jones' story.  Seems I did not know 'the rest of the story.'  I asked permission to share, believing you would find David's ongoing journey inspiring, as I did.

David is a brilliant and successful entrepreneur.   For decades he has generously shared his knowledge and fortune .  He was a marathon runner. A cyclist. He kept himself in top physical condition.  He was engaged in many good facets of his community. Life for David and his family could not have been better. And then, the unimaginable happened.  While gardening, a rusty nail pierced his hand. Subsequently leading to sepsis and toxic shock, a fight for his life, and eventually the amputation of his right hand and forearm.  He is lucky to be alive.  We are lucky he survived to share his former and new-found wisdom.  Here is his response to The Grasshopper:

From David Jones. July 27 2025

From one simple person who experienced a trauma I would never wish on anyone: 

For eight or nine months I dealt with the emotional side of that heavy load. I think in most cases we can deal with physical trauma, but the mental trauma is something that defeats so many of us.

Often people say “do you mind if I ask you what happened? I tell them - and then I share how I moved forward - I tell them:  I learned a couple of things. The first was to find out how to face PTSD.  I did that by researching what it is and what its impacts are. For me, being able to break down why I was having those feelings mentally and physically, helped me understand what I needed to do to move on with my life - a life that was now forever changed.

I thought about who I am and what I had learned over my career, the challenges faced and overcome. I soon realized that God had prepared me for this life-changing trauma. I realized that my purpose now was to use this preparation to help other people face trauma and its effects. To help them, as it had helped me, to work my way back both physically and mentally. I realized that helping others would be my key purpose...not just in facing the sobering trauma of life and death, but also - for those who needed it - overcoming a complex and difficult journey as an amputee.

Often when someone asks me about all this, I turn to them and say “Believe it or not, I am a better person for having traveled through this life-threatening, devastating experience. It has made me appreciative and thankful for what I have. It has helped me, whenever I meet people  - and whoever they are - to look for the good  in them. I find it every time. It helps lighten their load and mine."

David H. Jones

In her Blog a few weeks ago a friend included a phrase that made me stop. Made me think.

She wrote - Because you carry it well doesn't mean it's not heavy.  She wasn't referring to me 

specifically.  The words apply to so many.

I thought of friends and colleagues who have lost a loved one, are dealing with serious health 

issues, experiencing different life changing traumas.

We say 'How are you doing?'  Mostly they will say 'I'm fine. I'm OK.'  How do we respond without probing?

It's difficult.  We don't want to shift the load in the wrong direction.

And so, I asked a friend who has carried heavy loads.  What do we say?  Her answer.  Simply say - 'If the load

gets too heavy, I hope you'll  allow me to help carry whatever I can.'

That's what friends are for.

# # #

Lumping people into one giant good or bad category has long been a national pastime.  And our young people, it seems, receive a lopsided share of criticism.

Is the criticism deserved?  Watching, listening, working with college and 20-somethings for a few weeks I got my answer.  The decision was easy. Here’s why:

I hired four young men to plant numerous pots on my decks.  They were polite and hardworking. Their work was magnificent. They followed up to be sure all was well.  I would hire them again or invest in their company. They said  ’Oh, we love what we’re doing.'

Dining out with 11-month-old twin great grandbabies had promise of questionable joy.  A college student working summer as a server to the rescue.  Fast with highchairs. Faster with baby food.  Nothing too much trouble. She made the experience a pleasure. And the babies loved her.

Even the Emergency Room was made more pleasant by a young intern.  Can I get you anything?  Are you comfortable?  His goal – to be a great doctor.  Lucky patients. (Friends, nothing wrong with me – I was just a helper.)

The good encounters continued throughout the days  – from young smiling grocery check out staff, to being offered a hand on steep steps. The hands of so many young people are gifted, caring, hard-working.

So – thank you to those from whom they learned.  And, thank you to our young people.  You're pretty amazing.

# # #