"PAL" stands for Presbyterian Acts of Love.  This ministry was started personally by Reverend Salmon and I like to characterize it by comparing it to the Golden Rule "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you".   One example he gives of a PAL act is to just listen to someone's problems.  Another thought that comes to mind is the theme from an old song "Make Someone Happy".  Put the three together and ask yourself how much trouble is it to "reach out to someone" and make their day a little better.  Personally, I find my greatest joy comes from doing something nice for someone else - and you may also!  We can go way beyond this with all the songs and themes and phrases we have heard throughout our lives (like the Scout motto "Do a good deed daily") and they all mean the same thing - be conscious of the needs of others and do what you can to give them a helping hand.  

The animations above are just examples of love from some of God's other creatures - but just as real and sincere as our own.  We should not need a formal ministry to remind us to love and be kind to one another - it is all around us.  It is a subject, however, that one cannot say too much about.

The scripture that Reverend Salmon quotes as the core of this ministry is Matthew 25:37-40: "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me" after his disciples questioned his reaction to their caring for people in need.  That should be a little food for thought.

This ministry does not have a cast of thousands trying to make it work - it is just a written reminder of our connection and responsibilities to our fellow man - our brothers and sisters in Christ.  It is presented to the congregation of Grace Presbyterian Church in hopes they will join in making the ministry work in our church - and spread it's message throughout our community.  It is a state of mind, inherent or cultivated, of empathy and compassion for others - and in its fruition all PAL efforts will become a way of life.  It is very much in the spirit of our new `Care Group' Committee/Ministry - and I encourage all Care Groups to make it a matter of discussion at their next meeting.

                              

HAVE A GREAT DAY !!

If you have a few moments, I would like to share one of my favorite stories with you...

Information, please!

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well, the polished, old case fastened on the wall and shiny receiver on the side of the box.

I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it.  As part of the education I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person.  Her name was "Information" and there was nothing she did not know. "Information" could supply anybody's number and the correct time – and a lot more as I found out later.   All you had to do to reach her, as I watched my mother do, was pick up the handset and say “Information please”.

 

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone!  Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing where the telephone was. Climbing up, I lifted the receiver from the phone and held it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.  A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information". 

 "I hurt my finger." I wailed into the phone. The tears came streaming now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

”No", I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.  I did what she said - and suddenly the pain disappeared.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was.  She helped me with my math. She even told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child.

But I was un-consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

 

 We had many more short encounters on the telephone and I even remember calling her once and asked “who is God”.  She answered by saying “Just look around you, and then look up, and you will know!”.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest.  When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy that she had never met.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half-an-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.  Then, without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information”, she said.

I felt my heart jump and I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me “who is God?”.

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess our finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much your advice and guidance meant to me during that time."

"I also wonder, she said, if you know how much our talks meant to me.  I was never blessed with children in my life and I used to really look forward to your calls – because I thought of you as the special son I always wanted.  Sharing motherly advice with you filled a giant gap – and I feel more fulfilled because of our relationship and how sincerely you responded to all I had to say."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and what an effect she had on my life - and I asked if I could call her again the next time I was in town.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle.  A different voice answered.

"Information."

I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, Paul, a very old and special friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was very sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, 'Tell him I still say “there are other worlds to sing in”. He'll know what I mean'."

I thanked her and hung up with tears in my eyes. I did know what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.  Whose life have you touched today?   The next time you come in close contact with a stranger, a new `soul’ to befriend, remember Paul and Sally.