I was on the outskirts of a little Southern town, trying to reach my destination before the sun went down. The old CB was blaring away on channel 1-9, when there came a little boy’s voice on the radio line. He said, “Breaker 1-9, is anyone there? Come on back, truckers, and talk to Teddy Bear.”

I keyed the mike and said, “You got it, Teddy Bear.”

The little boy’s voice came back on the air, appreciate the break. “Who we got on the other end?”

I told him my handle and then he began.

“Now I’m not supposed to bother you boys out there. Mom says you’re busy and for me to stay off the air. But you see, I get lonely and it helps to talk cause that’s about all I can do. I’m crippled and cannot walk.”

I came back and told him to fire up that mike, I’d talk to him as long as he’d like.

“This was my dad’s radio,” the little boy said, “but I guess it’s mine and Mom’s now cause my daddy’s dead. Dad had a wreck about a month ago. He was trying to get home in a blinding snow. Mom has to work now to make ends meet. I’m not much help with my crippled feet. She says not to worry that she’ll make it all right. But I hear her crying sometimes late at night.

“You know, there’s one thing I want more than anything else to see. Ah I know you guys are too busy to bother with me. But, you see, my dad used to take me for rides when he was home. But I guess that’s all over now since my daddy’s gone.”

Not one breaker came in on that CB as that little crippled boy talked to me. I tried hard to swallow the lump, it just would not stay down as I thought about my boy in at home in hometown.

He continued, “Dad was going to take Mom and me with him later on this year. I remember him saying, ‘Someday this old truck will be yours, Teddy Bear.’ But I know I will never get to ride in an 18-wheeler again. But this old base will keep me in touch with all my trucker friends. Teddy Bear’s going to back out now and leave you alone cause it’s almost time for Mom to come home. But you give me a shout when you’re passing through and I’ll be happy to come back to you.”

Well I came back and said, “Before you 10-10, what’s your home 20, little CB friend?”

He gave me his home address and I didn’t hesitate one second because this hot load of freight was just gonna have to wait. I turned that truck around on a dime and headed for Jackson Street 229.

As I rounded the corner, I got one heck of a shock, 18-wheelers lined up for three city blocks. I guess every trucker from miles around had caught Teddy Bear’s call, and that little boy was having a ball. For as fast as one driver would carry him in, another would carry him to his truck and they’d take off again. Well you better believe I took my turn at riding Teddy Bear. And then I carried him back in and put him down in his chair. Buddy, if I never live to see happiness again, I want you to know I saw it that day in the face of that little man. We took up a collection before his mom came home. Each driver said goodbye and then they were gone. He shook my hand with a mile-long grin and said, “So long trucker, I’ll catch you again.”

I hit that interstate with tears in my eyes. I turned on my radio and got another surprise. “Breaker 1-9,” came a voice on the air, “just one word of thanks from Mom Teddy Bear. We wish each and every one a special prayer for you cause you just made my little boy’s dream come true.”

I’ll sign off now before I start to cry. “May God ride with you; 10-4 and goodbye.”

Source: Afterhours Inspirational Stories

Make A Difference Day from Shawn Kline on Vimeo.

A very sweet boy, John Thomas, who helped raised money from cans to give people a gift on Making A Difference Day.

If you have not heard of David Smith, he was the man who took it upon himself along with his coach and now best friend, Chris Powell to loose 400 pounds. Their story has been picked up by TLC and has hit home for many Americans. They have made it their mission to help others as well as the youth stay healthy.

17-year-old Jason McElwain was brought off the bench for the last moments of the game and shot 20 points. McElwain was diagnosed with autism at a young age, but always has had a passion for basketball.

From the Washington Post

It was 7:51 a.m. on Friday, January 12, the middle of the morning

rush hour. In the next 43 minutes, as the violinist performed six classical pieces, 1,097 people passed by. Almost all of them were on the way to work, which meant, for almost all of them, a government job. L’Enfant Plaza is at the nucleus of federal Washington, and these were mostly mid-level bureaucrats with those indeterminate, oddly fungible titles: policy analyst, project manager, budget officer, specialist, facilitator, consultant.

Each passerby had a quick choice to make, one familiar to commuters in any urban area where the occasional street performer is part of the cityscape: Do you stop and listen? Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he’s really bad? What if he’s really good?

On that Friday in January, those private questions would be answered in an unusually public way. No one knew it, but the fiddler standing against a bare wall outside the Metro in an indoor arcade at the top of the escalators was one of the finest classical musicians in the world, playing some of the most elegant music ever written on one of the most valuable violins ever made.

“It was the most astonishing thing I’ve ever seen in Washington,” Furukawa says. “Joshua Bell was standing there playing at rush hour, and people were not stopping, and not even looking, and some were flipping quarters at him! Quarters! I wouldn’t do that to anybody. I was thinking, Omigosh, what kind of a city do I live in that this could happen?”

When it was over, Furukawa introduced herself to Bell, and tossed in a twenty. Not counting that — it was tainted by recognition — the final haul for his 43 minutes of playing was $32.17. Yes, some people gave pennies.

Source: Washington Post

Dick Hoyt, and his son, Rick Hoyt, also called Team Hoyt, compete together in marathons and triathlons across the country. Together this duo strives to help those who are physically disabled become active members of the community.

It all started during Hurricane Charlie. Zach Bonner, then just 6 years old, took his little red wagon door to door in his neighborhood to collect clean water for the victims. After four months, Zach had collected 27 truck loads of supplies.

“Some boys like football or baseball, Zach likes doing charity work,” his mom says. He liked it so much by the time hurricanes Katrina and Rita hit, Zach’s family needed to set up a foundation because of the amount of monetary donations he was taking in. They named it Little Red Wagon Foundation, after the moniker he received around town during Charlie.

His latest mission doesn’t include the wagon, just his feet, and a 1,225-mile journey of the “My House to the White House” project. This is the last walk he is doing to raise money and awareness for the 1.3 million homeless kids in the United States. The money is going to setting up apartments for them. “It’s really hard not to help. Once you’ve met them and heard their stories, it’s hard not to want to help,” Zach, now 11, tells us.

Source: CNN.com