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"Restoring
faith in humanity, one story at a time," is the motto of "HeroicStories™,"
a free email newsletter you can subscribe to. If you're tired of all
the bad news in the world, here's some relief! "HeroicStories™"
offers true stories of everyday real people who step up and help someone
in time of need.
"HeroicStories™" sends inspiring positive stories direct
to you by email. Randy Cassingham, publisher of "HeroicStories™"
says this: "...Fed a steady diet of the negative, people have started
to believe that news is life. The wrong, the bad, the
horrific, and the tragic seem normal, but they are not.
Good people are normal. Life is normal. Lending a hand to others is
normal. People must be proactively reminded of the normal to regain
their balance and a realistic view of humanity....Reading about regular
people in 'HeroicStories™' doing something sets an example and
can change people's lives. 'HeroicStories™' proves that individuals
matter and do change the world."
We salute Randy and his efforts to "use the power of the Internet
and existing media to...explore the idea that people are good, that
individuals and individual action matter, and that regularly showing
examples of people being good to each other will inspire similar actions
in others."
After reading this sample story, be sure to
visit the "HeroicStories™" website and subscribe
to this wonderful free newsletter.
"Angel
on Wheels" by Julie in Kentucky, USA
When I was in the 8th grade in Ohio, a girl that rode the same school
bus I did had a terrible accident. As she was running to the bus so
as not to miss it, she slipped on ice and fell under the rear wheels
of the bus. She survived the accident but was paralyzed from the waist
down. I went to see her, and in my 13 year-old mind I recall thinking
that she wouldn't have much of a life now.
Over the years, I moved, married, and had children, and didn't think
much about Helen after that. Three years ago, in Florida, my oldest
son was hit by a car while riding his bike, thrown 90 feet, and landed
on his head, suffering a horrid brain injury. While semicomatose,
he was transferred to a rehabilitation center. While in my son's room,
the phone rang, and it was a lady whom said that she was the rehab's
social worker. It was a particularly trying day. I burst into tears
for no reason, and heard the click of the call being disconnected.
A short time later, a beautiful woman, in a wheelchair, rolled into
my son's room with a box of tissue. After 16 years, I still recognized
Helen. She smiled, handed me the tissue, and motioned for me to come
closer. I did, and she hugged me. I told her who I was, and after
we both got over the shock of that, she began to tell me about her
life since we last saw each other. She had children, was happily married,
and got her degree so that she could smooth the path for those less
fortunate than her. She told me that if there was anything she could
give me, it would be hope.
Looking at this wonderful, giving, person, I felt small. But I also
felt the hope she gave me, the first I had since learning that my
son was hurt. From this person that I thought would have no quality
of life, I learned to never give up -- ever. And I learned that when
there is life, there is hope. My son miraculously recovered and we
moved back north, but I owe Helen a debt that I can never adequately
repay.
(STORY USED BY PERMISSION. Copyright © 2001 by Freelance Communications.
"HeroicStories" is a trademark of Freelance Communications.)
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