Special Story

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down:
73 in a 55 zone.  Fourth time in as many months. How could a
guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over,
but only partially.  Let the cop worry about the potential
traffic hazard.  Maybe some other car will tweak his backside
with a mirror.  The cop was stepping out of his car, the big
pad in hand. Bob? Bob from Church?

Jack sunk farther into his trench coat.  This was worse than
the coming ticket.  A cop catching a guy from his own church.

A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a
long day at the office.  A guy he was about to play golf with
tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every
Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Jack." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife
and kids."

"Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good.

"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I
bent the rules a bit - just this once."  Jack toed at a pebble
on the pavement.

"Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight.
Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation
in our precinct."  Ouch.  This was not going in the right
direction.  Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw
you.  I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier
with every ticket.

"Please, Jack, in the car."

Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door.
Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard.  He was in no
rush to open the window.

The minutes ticked by.  Bob scribbled away on the pad.  Why
hadn't he asked for a driver's license?

Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before
Jack ever sat near this cop again.  A tap on the door jerked
his head to the left.

There was Bob, a folded paper in hand.  Jack rolled down
the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to
pass him the slip.

"Thanks."  Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of
his voice.

Bob returned to his police car without a word.  Jack
watched his retreat in the mirror.  Jack unfolded the sheet
of paper.  How much was this one going to cost?  Wait a
minute.  What was this?  Some kind of joke?

Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:

"Dear Jack,

Once upon a time I had a daughter.  She was six when killed
by a car.  You guessed it -- a speeding driver.  A fine and
three months in jail, and the man was free.  Free to hug his
daughters.  All three of them.  I only had one, and I'm
going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her
again.  A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man.  A
thousand times I thought I had.  Maybe I did, but I need to
do it again.  Even now.  Pray for me.  And be careful, Jack,
my son is all I have left."

"Bob"

Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and
head down the road.  Jack watched until it disappeared.  A
full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly
home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife
and kids when he arrived.

Life is precious. Handle with care. This is an important
message; please pass it along to your friends. Drive safely
and carefully. Remember, cars are not the only things
recalled by their maker.

Funny how you can send a thousand jokes' through e-mail and
they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages
regarding the sanctity of life, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not
send it to many on your address list because you're not sure
what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending
it to them.  Pass this on, you may save a life. Maybe not, but
we'll never know if we don't try.