Can you keep up with George Jedenoff?

Today's crumb comes from an alert reader in Bremen, IN, USA. It's a brief video narrated by George Jedenoff, who is 97 and a half. Before watching the video, let's remember the words of Pope John XXIII, who said, "Men are like wine. Some turn to vinegar but the best improve with age."

Other scholars have observed that youth is a gift of nature, but age is a work of art. Age is not lost youth, but a new stage of opportunity and strength. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. After meeting George Jedenoff in the video linked here, I think you'll agree there are NO WRINKLES on his soul. www.youtube.com/watch?v=ueidYCQiSoE

When a snowstorm cancels church

Grace Chapel, in Centennial, CO, cancelled services February 22 because of inclement weather. That meant "The Source" high school class would not meet at 9 a.m. in the Student Ministry Building to learn about spiritual leadership. So seven teenage members of "The Source" were free to sleep late. But they didn't.

Instead, they agreed to wake up at 6:30 a.m., grab shovels, and surprise the residents of South Olive Way by shoveling the driveways and sidewalks of 53 homes. Each homeowner found a note on his door that said "You have been served" with an emblem of a cross.

"We wanted to get out before anyone woke up," said Nick Mirabella. "We felt it was a good idea to serve the whole neighborhood. It was kind of the best way I think we could spend a Sunday."

Like most residents, homeowner Jeff Mostellar was astonished. "They shoveled everything, the whole driveway, the steps, and the whole sidewalk. You just don't see that in this day and age."

When offered payment for their work, the boys all declined, but they could not resist offers of hot chocolate.

He didn't expect that sort of response

Alan Barnes, 67, who is only 4'6" tall, visually impaired and has lived with disabilities from birth, was afraid to return to his home in Gateshead, England, after he was attacked in January. He was assaulted as he put his trash cans out one Sunday evening. "I was moving my wheelie bin around from the back of the house when a shadow came on my left hand side," he remembered. "It was a lad who said, 'Hand over your money.'" When Barnes had no money, the cowardly lad shoved him to the ground, fracturing his collar bone, and ran away.

Alan Barnes and Katie Cutler

Enter Katie Cutler. After reading about the disgraceful attack on such a frail victim, Cutler, who is a beautician, launched a "Help Alan Barnes" online donation page on the Go Fund Me Web site. "I was so upset that anyone could target a disabled pensioner and be so cruel," she said. Her aim was to raise $800, but the site soon attracted 2,000 donations totaling $431,000. There have also been offers of free help from plumbers, electricians, bathroom fitters and carpet layers, plus offers of furniture. Barnes' family says the funds will be placed in a trust for his permanent benefit.

"I can't wait for him to get it," Cutler said. "I'm over the moon.""I've heard of fundraising for charities," said Barnes, "but I've only got a fractured collarbone. I didn't expect that sort of response."

It's not how old you get. It's how you get old.

Today's "Crumb" was shared by a reader in Redlands, CA. USA.

It was a busy morning (8:30 a.m.) when an old man came to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry since he had an appointment at 9 a.m. I took his vital signs and asked him to have a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before anyone could see him. But he kept looking at his watch, and since I was not busy with another patient, I evaluated his wound. It was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors and got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While caring for his wound, I asked if he had another doctor's appointment, since he was in such a hurry. He said no, he need to go to the nursing home to have breakfast with his wife.  I asked about her health, and he said she had alzheimer's. As we talked, I asked if she'd be upset if he was a little late today. He replied that she no longer knew who he was. She had not recognized him for five years. I was surprised and asked him, "And you still go every morning, even though she does not know who you are?" He smiled as he patted my hand. He said, "She may not know me, but I still know who she is."  Love is not about surviving the storm of life. Love is about dancing in the rain.

"Just build it, child. People will come."

Six months after her marriage in 1981, Beverly Barutio of Savannah GA was diagnosed with cancer. Doctors predicted she could live less than a year. She started chemotherapy, but it made her ill so she refused to continue. Since she was Catholic, she decided to rely on her faith. She prayed to God and also to St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes. She remembered promising St. Jude that "if I made it, someday I would build a chapel for him." To the amazement of her doctors, her cancer went into total remission. In 1985, after her husband Bill retired, they moved to the tiny village of Trust, NC (30 miles from Asheville) to restore a century-old farmhouse, but soon her unkept promise began to weigh on Beverly.  Since Trust is not easy to find, she feared a chapel would stand vacant and be forgotten. "I sat on our front steps many times and prayed," she said, "and God told me, 'Just build it, child. They will come.'" So she did.

"We had no plans," she said. "We just sketched it out on the back of envelopes as we went along." The tiny cedar non-denominational chapel was finished in February, 1992, with a hand-carved wooden sign in front that says, "St. Jude's Chapel of Hope. Stop. Rest. Reflect."

It's open 24 hours a day and anyone seeking Trust can find it. One visitor named Beth remembers the long winding journey up the mountain to Trust. When she found the chapel, she and her friends sat down inside. "I was suddenly overcome with emotion and began to cry," she said. "The air inside felt holy, charged with a sacred spirit of so many who made their hearts vulnerable there. My friends and I sat there for half-an-hour, silent in memory and in supplication to the Saint of Lost Causes and to God.

During its first 12 months, more than 2,000 people visited the chapel. "They come out smiling, or sometimes couples come out holding hands," Beverly said. "That makes me feel good"

One nation, under God...

Richard "Red" Skelton (1914-1997) grew up in Vincennes, Indiana. Each morning at Harrison Elementary School he and his classmates recited the Pledge of Allegiance, but he never really knew what it meant until 1923, when the Principal explained it word-by-word. Skelton went on to become one of America's best-loved comics in the '40s and '50s, and was admitted to the Clown Hall of Fame in 1989, but he was much more than an interpretive clown. One of his best-known skits was performed on his TV show in January, 1969.

Some Americans were protesting that the word "God" in the Pledge of Allegiance made it a prayer, and therefore illegal to recite in school because of the separation of church and state. Your heart will be touched if you watch Red explain what the pledge really means, linked here.  www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HGHdFmu5GU

Don't forget the best

American author and poet Bayard Taylor (1825-1878) once wrote a short parable called The Key Flower. In 1883, it was reprinted for the instruction of children on page 154 of a common school textbook called Swinton's Fourth Reader. Here's the parable, and the questions it asks.

One summer day a young shepherd was tending his sheep when he noticed an unusual flower. As he picked it for examination, he saw a door in the side of the hill. He'd never seen the door before, but it was open so he went inside and down a corridor to a room filled with gold coins and diamonds. He also saw an old dwarf sitting in a chair. The dwarf welcomed him, saying "Take what you want, and don't forget the best." Placing his flower on a table, the shepherd filled his pockets and his hat with gold and diamonds. As he hurried out, he heard the dwarf repeat, "Don't forget the best." Once outside, he saw the door vanish, and his hat and pockets were filled with nothing but pebbles and dry leaves. He was as poor as ever, because he had forgotten the best. The flower he left on the table was the key flower. If he kept it, the gold and diamonds would have stayed so, and the treasure room would reopen to him at any time. How do we define life's treasure? And what is the key flower we must not forget -- in order to make our treasure permanent?