Brian Leaning-Mizen dropped by for a coffee recently and we had a great discussion about all things important, small and great, and about friendship. You know, the things that sometimes we are a bit too busy, stressed or distracted to do... and we discussed our newsletters and the impact words have on people.

When I got back to my office, I opened up the latest issue of Brian's fabulous newsletter, "Strategies for Successful People" and this story jumped out at me, saying please share me with the Maverick Spirit family. So, courtesy of Brian's newsletter is Molly's Dads Story:
 
"It was Molly's job to hand her father his brown paper lunch bag each morning before he headed off to work.

One day, in addition to his lunch bag, Molly handed him a second paper bag. This one was worn and held together with tape, staples and paper clips.

'Why two bags?' Molly? 'The other is something else,' She answered.

'What's in it?' 'Just some stuff. Please take it with you.'

He stuffed both bags into his briefcase, kissed Molly and rushed off to work. At 1.00 p.m. while hurriedly eating down his lunch, he tore open Molly's bag and emptied the contents: two hair ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny sea shell, two animal crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, two chocolate kisses and 13 small coins.

The busy father smiled, finished eating and swept his lunch bag and all the contents of Molly's bag into the wastebasket.

That evening just before dinner, Molly ran up behind him as he read the paper.

'Where's my bag?' she asked. 'What bag?' came the reply.

'You know, the one I gave you this morning.' 'I left it at the office. Why?'

'I forgot to put this note in it,' she said. 'And, besides, those are my things in the bag, Daddy, the ones I really like - I thought you might like to play with them at lunch time today, but now I want them back. You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?'

'Oh, no,' he said sheepishly 'I just forgot to bring it home. I'll bring it tomorrow.'

While Molly hugged her father's neck, he unfolded the note that had not made it into the sack: 'I love you, Daddy.'

Molly had given him her treasures. All that his 7yr-old held dear. Love in a paper bag, and he missed it - not only missed it, but had thrown it in the wastebasket.

So back he went to the office, just before the cleaners did their rounds and picked up the wastebasket, tipping all the contents on his desk.

After washing the mustard off the dinosaur and spraying the rest of Molly's treasured things with breath-freshener to kill the smell of onions, he carefully smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper, put the treasures inside and carried it home. The bag didn't look so good, but the stuff was all there and that's what counted.

Later that night he asked Molly to tell him about the stuff in the sack. It took a long time to tell. Everything had a story or a memory or was attached to dreams and imaginary friends. Fairies had brought some of the things.

He'd given her the chocolate kisses; she'd kept them for when she needed them. 'Sometimes I think of all the times in this sweet life,' he mused, 'when I must have missed the affection I was being given. A friend calls this standing knee deep in the river and dying of thirst.'

We should all remember that it's not the destination that counts in life, but the JOURNEY.

That journey with the people we love is all that really matters.

Such a simple truth so easily forgotten. Anonymous

ACTION STEP: Share with someone close "Love in a paper bag!".