Thomas (Tommy) Almon:  

Classmates.com, has been asking me to add a story to my profile page. But after reading other postings by other classmates, my thoughts were - what could I provide that would be so interesting?... So, I decided to just write and see where the words take us. So Here goes..... Several weeks ago I decided to re-organize areas of my work shop. When built, I thought it was a good size structure (42'), but as we all know you never have enough space for your toys/stuff. When I retired from my profession (not life) almost six year ago, I left my office with one small brown box of items and a very old briefcase. I placed these items on a shelf in my shop. Only the pictures of my family did I take into our home. The other contents just sat on a shelf collecting countless layers of dust and forgotten memories. Anyway, back to my focus! I found that old brown box and briefcase right where I placed them. I could better utilize the space so I decided to move them to a cabinet on the back wall. But, before I placed the box in the cabinet, I wiped away the layers of dust from the lid and removed it to reveal the contents. Yes, it was all there, countless "attaboy's" from my company and other groups, both University diplomas, all my certificates of achievements, along with my State and Federal Licenses (active at retirement). My eyes became fixed as I focused on a small rubber ball, a soccer ball about the size of a small temple orange. A flood of memories came pouring out from deep inside. That little ball was the most important of all my treasures. The story behind that little soccer ball began in a small Venezuelan village twenty plus years ago. I was there to help village build a church. Toward the end of my stay I injuried both my legs. While, pouring a hand mixture of cement, lime, sand, water and gravel my legs were covered with the materials. Not wanting to stop to wash it off, I kept working.You see it rained about the whole time I was there so work was progressing very slowly. My desire to accomplish the task over ruled common sense. The last evening before returning to the States, the group we were helping want to say thanks by giving of what they had. I stood there that evening with all the other participants, my legs were burning and aching from pouring that concrete., (standing in the middle of the footer, holding up rebar because we had no rebar chairs). I was hurting so much I barely knew what was said. But, I do remember the villagers starting to giving small gifts to us. A small boy about 6 or 7 years of age came up to me and held out his hand. In a quiet shy voice he said something, I didn't understand. Then I saw a small rubber soccer ball in his out stretched hand. Thoughts came flooding to my mind - "what would I do with a small rubber ball?". I was a grown man with so much and he was a small child with so little! Then my heart was pricked by something sharp, Yes, I had so very much but had given just a little of myself. It was true I gave some time, skill and would carry a few scars on my legs. But, this little boy gave all he had - a rubber ball. I looked at him, bending over I smiled and said "thank you so very much" in broken Spanish. Taking the little rubber ball, I shook his hand. He gave everything he could give to a stranger. (how it echos even as I write this we must come as little children). Over the years that little rubber ball sat on my desk right in front of me. When things got tough I would reflect on that little ball and my strength would return. It was interesting how people would come into my office see that little ball. Some wou...Expand for more