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Welcome to Frank and Fran's Tackle Website!
Nelson and his nice Speckled Trout
Written by Reports   



Nice Speckled Trout Caught at Little Bridge, Nags Head last week.
He stayed one night in North Outer banks til he came to Gods County of hatteras Island!

Last Updated on Thursday, 16 May 2013 20:02
 
TWO CHOICES
Written by Reports   

Two Choices

 

What would you do? You make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

 

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

  

 

After extolling the school and its

 

Dedicated staff, he offered a question:

 

'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.

  

Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.

 

Where is the natural order of things in my son?'

 

The audience was stilled by the query.

 

The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'

 

Then he told the following story:

 

Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball.

  

Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?'

  

I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

 

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play.

  

The boy looked around for guidance and said,

 

'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt..

 

I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.

 

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.

 

In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.

 

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.

 

Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

 

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the

game?

 

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.

 

Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

 

However, as Shay stepped up to the Plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

 

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.

 

The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.

 

As the pitch came in, Shay swung at

the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

 

The game would now be over.

 

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.

 

Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

 

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.

Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!

 

Run to first!'

 

Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

 

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'

 

Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.

 

By the time Shay

rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.

 

He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.

 

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

 

All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'

 

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'

 

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming,

 

  'Shay, run home! Run home!'

 

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team

 

'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.

 

Shay didn't make it to another summer.

 

 He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy,   and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

 

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:

We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate.

 

The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.

 

If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference....

 

We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.'

 

So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:

 

Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

 

A wise man once said every society is judged

by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.

 

You now have two choices:

 

1. Delete

 

2. Forward

 

 

May your day, be a Shay Day.

 
Military Christmas Poem
Written by Reports   



Military Christmas Poem

(by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt)

 

'Twas The Night Before Christmas,

He Lived All Alone,

In A One Bedroom House

Made Of Plaster And Stone.

 

I Had Come Down The Chimney

With Presents To Give,

And To See Just Who

In This Home Did Live.

 

I Looked All About,

A Strange Sight I Did See,

No Tinsel, No Presents,

Not Even A Tree.

 

No Stocking By Mantle,

Just Boots Filled With Sand,

On The Wall Hung Pictures

Of Far Distant Lands.

 

With Medals And Badges,

Awards Of All Kinds,

A Sober Thought

Came Through My Mind.

 

For This House Was Different,

It Was Dark And Dreary,

I Found The Home Of A Soldier,

Once I Could See Clearly.

 

The Soldier Lay Sleeping,

Silent, Alone,

Curled Up On The Floor

In This One Bedroom Home.

 

The Face Was So Gentle,

The Room In Such Disorder,

Not How I Pictured

A United States Soldier.

 

Was This The Hero

Of Whom I'd Just Read?

Curled Up On A Poncho,

The Floor For A Bed?

 

I Realized The Families

That I Saw This Night,

Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers

Who Were Willing To Fight.

 

Soon Round The World,

The Children Would Play,

And Grownups Would Celebrate

A Bright Christmas Day.

 

They All Enjoyed Freedom

Each Month Of The Year,

Because Of The Soldiers,

Like The One Lying Here.

 

I Couldn't Help Wonder

How Many Lay Alone,

On A Cold Christmas Eve

In A Land Far From Home.

 

The Very Thought

Brought A Tear To My Eye,

I Dropped To My Knees

And Started To Cry.

 

The Soldier Awakened

And I Heard A Rough Voice,

"Santa Don't Cry,

This Life Is My Choice;

 

I Fight For Freedom,

I Don't Ask For More,

My Life Is My God,

My Country, My Corps."

 

The Soldier Rolled Over

And Drifted To Sleep,

I Couldn't Control It,

I Continued To Weep.

 

I Kept Watch For Hours,

So Silent And Still

And We Both Shivered

From The Cold Night's Chill.

 

I Didn't Want To Leave

On That Cold, Dark, Night,

This Guardian Of Honor

So Willing To Fight.

 

Then The Soldier Rolled Over,

With A Voice Soft And Pure,

Whispered, "Carry On Santa,

It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."

 

One Look At My Watch,

And I Knew He Was Right.

"Merry Christmas My Friend,

And To All A Good Night."

 
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