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7 Wow Moment Tips: How To Deal with Your Inner Genghis

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By : Derek Dashwood    99 or more times read
Submitted 0000-00-00 00:00:00
In the great American antiques experiences, and particularly after visitng Berlin and finding that a man can have such a powerful sneer yet not move a muscle. I met my Genghis, and found immediately that he khan do what he wishes on his time. And his time is not our time, not by any ticking bomb of civilization or anywhere else. Take Moscow. Please. Ulan Bator.

Perhaps you needed to be have there but you can smell fear and loathing I found early in life at Berlin's Wall. No doubt any soldier from anywhere would really just love to put down his arms and come home, where some one loves him. And or now, her. And that would be me. From 1948, it was such a flight. From 1961 my grand tour almost went so off the track before it began. I don't think my ancestor Sir Francis went to Berlin. Lucky for him. Lucky for me. Now it is up to you.

How you take these fleeting comments, like the airman at the gate noticing the starving giggling nerv ous children of Berlin is inside you. Blink and the moment is gone, unrealized. That G.I. Joe gave the kids of Berlin such a lift and the chocolates that fluttered down in airmen's hankies told every hhild in Berlin, and her parents, and their neighbors, that like God in the heavens, there was mercy, chocolate! From the sky, same place as where the bombs come from. A miracle. That had to originate in a very loving place where a man could develope such a good heart.

Where is that airman from, mamma? America. God bless you America. And if you have my rare but limited capacity for excitement by now you are rather topped up. And then, you notice your bride went past that post before you ever stepped on that train to Berlin. It's a long way to Hamburg heaven. Sigh. You go search for that better door. Nuremburg. We can fly there. Gone. And that was a story in itself. But did we live through all that horror? Yes. Will I rush back into that. Nyet. Chocolate bomb me right here at home, danke.

But if you have goodness in your bones- it is bred in the bone, perhaps- you make that good thing happen. You do not need the applause. That airman dropped those hanky parachutes on the children of Berlin because it just seemed the right thing to do, as the kids seemed nervous. Now he, and when you do, you, get to smile the rest of your life as your memory burps that back up to please you from time to time ever after. Put that next to your best grandpa award.

Walter, are you out there talking to yourself in the dark again? You finished your newscast? How did that new bomb story go? Turn on a light for heavens sake. Yes dear thanks, I agree, good night. Have a wonderful night's sleep. Did you put a coal on the fire? No I thought we should cut down. You're probably right dear with all that need in Europe right now. It does seem the right thing to do. I am sure you are right. Put that lump of coal in the Feed The Children of Europe Care box. Such irony, a lump of coal for Christmas and they will sing with joy.

Yes, indeed. The bomb story is the big news of the century I am sure. Less than three years after Hiroshima and they now have a bomb that can create the destructive power of a million Hiroshimas. Do we really need that right now? And then what happens if the Russians ever get ahold of those plans I care not to imagine after so much war. My dear I some times wonder just how much progress the dear old world can afford. Did you put the cat out, dear? No, now that would be a disaster. Bomb those poor kids in Berlin with kittens, I say. What was that, dear?

We know these American antiques heros come to us only time to time. That was such a time. 1948 in the evolution of humanity was made more vintage in not such a fine year. And that American airman made the day. Not any headlines much as might have been in the greater measure of what measures. That Walter of his day- the Man with the Golden Voice on the radio who told us of the world each evening, knew. But the airman and his crew delivered their ten tons of coal as was their job. And then they did more.

And starting with with that one G.I. Joe who cared, they put joyful smiles on the faces of children who had likely never been in a position to have any reason to smile yet in their young lives. And even a small thing such as that should rate very very high in the heavens. That G.I.Joe was not likely there at Yalta when Joe Stalin - a very different kind of Joe - made promises he never intdended to keep. But as God is in his Heaven- Gott ist in Himmel - He shone brightly on the right Joe that cold autumn morning in Berlin. When children were so bonded to an American airman whose name might have been Joe.

Just another G.I. Only one lonely American dog face soldier all up in the air. And perhaps if he could bring the kids to America he could bring an old fashioned children's party to them. Sounds great, but how? Well it took America to feed the people. It took the people of America to bring a party to the children of the world. And that simple act helped change the world. Or stop if from slipping into a dark ages civilizationn and the urges for free expression and joy as frm the inspiration of God, Persia kings, Greece phiosphers, you and I, and the soul of every heart beat that was around the airfield to experience history that day.

Just a lone pilot and his crew, and half the kids Berlin, some hankies for parachutes from hankies and all the chocolate bars we could charm of the gang and Cookie at the mess hall. So Uncle Sam was involved. It began in the heart and brilliant soul of just one man. One G. I. One Government Issue man. Some government. Some issue. Some man. Thank you Joe. Enjoy your retirement, so well and finely earned. We raise our candy bars to you. We can only hope to be a fine vintage, lesser version of you as we age. Thanks, Joe. See you in Himmel. Heaven.
Author Resource:- Derek Dashwood enjoys noticing positive ways we progress, the combining of science into the humanities to measure politics, wise use and mis use of power and protective love at
American Antiques
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