I remember some situation I was aware of when I stayed, studied and worked at last time in Los Angeles, California...

During these month and years I noted down a lot of novels of my own experience and living situation of real life over there...

Some of these novels I will start to share with you, if you don’t mind of course?! Many of these novels I use to write under a nickname I received from different kind of cultures:

1. My Name Desert Star, was giving me throughout my Native American Indian Teacher and Instructor of Love, Light and Harmony ‘The Star Flame’ of tribe Apache during my earlier studies in Native American Indian - Culture anthropology. Her sober wisdom, perfect fairness and stern protective ways never stopped me from seeing the love that moves in all her spirit.

2. The Name Tom, I received once upon a time by Black Afro Natives for being their friend, when I studied all over my Paradise in Africa and finally at the West Coast/USA in California, the roots of Slavery, of Black Afro American religion and Culture anthropology. You remember Stowe, Harriet Beecher (1811-1896) and the story of Uncle Tom’s Cabin? The year after the compromise Measures of 1850 a literary event shook the country. Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote an antislavery novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which was published serially in a newspaper in 1851 and in book form the year after. It was widely read in the United States and abroad and moved many to join the cause of abolition. The South indignantly denied this indictment of slavery. Stowe’s book increased partisan feeling over slavery and intensified sectional differences.

(by Desert Star)



One night, at 11:30 PM, an older African American woman was standing on the side of a Californian highway in Los Angeles, nearby where I’m where living and trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. I saw a young white man (my neighbor and just a good friend of mine too) stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled years in the USA. My friend took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him.

Seven days went by and a knock came on my neighbours door. To my friends surprise, a giant console colour TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached.

It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along.

Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away on Christmas Eve... God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others."

Sincerely,

Mrs. Nat King Cole

(by Desert Star)



Once upon a time, during my second month of Lufthansa German Airlines Ground and Passenger Handling Management division’s school in Hamburg (at the Fabrizius Strasse, once upon a time ago…), our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired, black in her skin, and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.

Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade.

"Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say 'Hello'."

I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy...

One night I had a dream. I was walking along the beach with my Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to me and the other to my Lord.

When the last scene of my life shot before me I looked back at the footprints in the sand. There was only on set of footprints. I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times in my life.

This always bothered me and I questioned the Lord about my dilemma. "Lord, you told me when I decided to follow You, You would walk and talk with me all the way. But I'm aware that during the most troublesome times of my life there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why, when I needed You most, you leave me."

He whispered, "My precious, precious child, I love you and will never leave you never, ever during your times of trial and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints It was then that I carried you."

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vein and bitter; for there will always be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden
misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be; and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

"Desiderata" was written in 1927 by Max Ehrmann
(1872-1945)

• Airplane skin doesn't wrinkle as badly.
  Airplanes don't take forever to warm up.
  Airplanes like to do it inverted.
  It's easier to get 'trim' in an airplane.
  You can keep an airplane from stalling.
  Airplanes can be turned on by a flick of a switch.
  An airplane won't slap you for being a 'bush pilot.'
  You don't always have to be on top to ride an airplane.
  An airplane doesn't ask you to put on a raincoat before entry.
  An airplane's thrust to weight ratio is higher.
  You can easily leave an airplane before sunrise.
  Airplane exhaust fumes smell better.
  Airplanes lose weight faster.
  An airplane does not get mad if you 'touch and go.'
  An airplane's performance is seldom hindered by weather.
  An airplane will not get mad if you ride someone else's airplane.
  An airplane's cockpit is cleaner.
  You can calculate the peak performance of an airplane.
  An Airplane is easy to roll over.
  You can still activate a fifty-year-old airplane.
  Up to five people can ride in the cockpit of an airplane.
  Airplane's last longer.
  Airplanes don't droop after many years.
  You can always tell when an airplane is going to give out.
  An airplane moves when you tell it to.
  An airplane will kill you quick . . . a woman takes her time.
  An airplane does not object to a preflight inspection.
  An airplane will let you use your dipstick anytime you want.
  Airplanes don't make you 'pull-out' to eject.
  You can change the looks of an airplane.
  Airplanes come with manuals.
  A 747 can keep you up for 14 hours.
  Airplanes have strict weight and balance limits.
  When you put fuel into an airplane, it does not spit it out.
  Airplane curves never sag.
  Airplanes last longer.
  Airplanes don't get pregnant.
  You can fly a airplane any time of the month.
  Airplanes don't have parents.
  Airplanes don't whine unless something is really wrong.
  You can share your airplanes with your friends.
  If your airplane makes too much noise, you can buy a muffler.
  If your airplane smokes, you can do something about it.
  Airplanes don't care about how many other airplanes you have flown.
  When flying, you and your airplane both arrive at the same time.
  Airplanes don't care about how many other airplanes’ you have.
  Airplanes don't mind if you look at other airplanes, or if you buy airplane magazines.
  If your airplane is too loose, you can tighten it.
  You don't have to be jealous of the guy that works on your airplane.
  You don't have to deal with priests or blood tests to register your airplane.
  You don't have to convince your airplane that you're a pilot and that you think that all airplanes are equals.
  If you say bad things to your airplane, you don't have to say you’re sorry before you can fly it again.
  You can fly an airplane as long as you want and it won't get sore.
  Your parents don't remain in touch with your old airplane after you dump it.
  Airplanes always feel like going for a ride.
  Airplanes don't insult you if you are a bad pilot.
  It's always OK to use tie downs on your airplane.
  Your airplane never wants a night out alone with the other airplanes.
  Airplanes don't care if you are late.
  You don't have to take a shower before flying your airplane.

(by Desert Star)

He was driving home one evening, on a two - lane country road. Work in this small community outside of Los Angeles, was almost as slow as his beat - up old Mercedes. But he never quit looking. Ever since he left the restaurang jobb, he'd been unemployed, and with autum raging on, the chill had finally hit home.

It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and he knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, which came in handy.

It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Pontiac and got out. His old Mercedes was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Tom".

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Tom crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him.

She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Tom just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.

Tom never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God know there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past... He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Tom added "...and think of me".

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor; it didn't ring much.

Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude.

The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Tom. After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back.

She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on the napkin under which was 4 $100 bills. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said: "You don't owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you".

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be all right; I love you, Tom."

Today, I sent you this (my) story, now I am asking you to pass it on... Let the Light Shine. Don't put it under a basket. Please pass this on to a friend.

No matter how big the problem is, after a great laugh, it will all be forgotten. As when the twig is bent, if it does not break, so grows the tree.