The Power Of Your Actions

                                   One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class
                             walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was
                             carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home
                             all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd." I had quite a weekend
                             planned (parties and a football game with my friend the following afternoon),
                             so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

                             As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him,
                             knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the
                             dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet
                             from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.

                             My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him, and as he crawled around
                             looking for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye.

                             I handed him his glasses and said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should
                             get lives."

                             He looked at me and said, "Hey, thanks!" There was a big smile on his face.
                             It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up
                             his books, and asked him where he lived. It turned out he lived near me, so I
                             asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private
                             school before coming to this school.

                             I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all
                             the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.
                             I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends.
                             He said yes. We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the
                             more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning
                             came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him
                             and said, "Damn boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with
                             this pile of books everyday!". He just laughed and handed me half the books.
                             Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.

                             When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on
                             Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be
                             friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a
                             doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was
                             valedictorian of our class.

                             I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for
                             graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.

                             Graduation day arrived - I saw Kyle and he looked great. He was one of
                             those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and
                             actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls
                             loved him!

                             Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see
                             that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and
                             said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"

                             He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled.
                             "Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and
                             began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through
                             those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a
                             coach... but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend
                             to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a
                             story."

                             I stared at my friend in disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met.
                             He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had
                             cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was
                             carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
                             "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

                             I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us
                             all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and
                             smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its
                             depth.

                             Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you
                             can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each
                             other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.

                             "Friends are angels who lift us to our feet
                               when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

                                                                                                Unknown Author