From Slave Camp To Freedom - Page 22 of 36 - Carla's journey and what it took to make it happen

Monday Pick Me Up – The Man With The One Track Mind

Share by Carla

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Eddie Arcaro dreamed of becoming the world’s greatest jockey but after watching him ride a horse for five minutes, reality reflected a harsh contradiction. He was awkward and clumsy, and in his early years in the saddle he couldn’t do one thing right.

He was left behind at the post, he got trapped in traffic jams, he got bumped and boxed in. In his first 100 races he never even came close to winning. Still, he got right back on and tried again.

Even as a schoolboy, Arcaro had set his own track in life. Because he was only a little over five feet tall and weighed barely 80 pounds, the other students shunned him.

So he played hooky instead, hanging out at the local race track where a trainer let him gallop the horses. His father reluctantly agreed to let him pursue a career as a jockey, even though he knew it was a long shot. The trainer had told him so. “Send him back to school,” he said. “He’ll never be a rider.”

No one was betting on little Eddie Arcaro, no one that is except Arcaro. He was determined not just to ride, but to become the world’s greatest jockey. But first someone would have to give him a chance.

He pleaded and persisted until he finally got to ride in a real race. Before it was over, he’d lost his whip and his cap and had almost fallen off the saddle. By the time he finished the race, the other horses were
on their way back to the stables. He’d come in dead last.

After that, Arcaro went from track to track, looking for any opportunity to ride. Finally, an owner who felt pity took him in and gave him his next chance. One hundred trophy-less races later, he was still giving him a chance. The trainers saw something in this unlucky jockey, something they couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was potential, perhaps it was resilience, perhaps it was sheer obstinacy, but no one was willing to send him home. And Arcaro was certainly not going to quit. There were long years when he was broke, homesick, and almost without friends. There were also many brushes with death and several broken bones.

Every time his delicate 63 inch body was trammeled by hoofs he would get patched up and return to the saddle. Then it happened. Arcaro began to win…

and win…

Now, instead of leaving a path of destruction, he was leaving a path of devastated opponents. In thirty years of riding, he won 4,779 races, becoming the only jockey in history to win the Kentucky Derby five times.

By the time he retired in 1962 he was a millionaire and a legend in his own lifetime. From the moment he walked out of school and onto a track, Eddie Arcaro had his mind on a finish line. And although the race took thirty years, he never quit until that line was crossed.

Cynthia Kersey

Cynthia Kersey is the author of Unstoppable and Unstoppable Women
Copyright 1998 by Cynthia Kersey Visit Cynthia’s web site at: www.unstoppable.net

Monday Pick Me Up – The Lesson of the Morning Glory!

Shared by Carla

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I planted seeds in my little garden this year.

I have never planted seeds before, because I am not a very patient person, and waiting for the little green shoots to rise above the ground, was just too much for me.

But this year, I thought I would give it a try.

I thought it would be a good metaphor for me, to plant something and watch it grow, much as I have many times, planted thoughts, dreams and affirmations and watched many of them become a reality.

And so, in the Spring of this year, I planted my garden. I chose many types of flowers and among them,
Morning Glories. Within a month, many of the other flowers were bursting through the earth, but not the Morning Glories.

Each morning, I would run outside to check on them, and nothing, nothing for several weeks more.

I was about to give up on them. I was sure that they just did not ‘take’ so to speak. But finally, it happened!

They had broken through the earth, and were starting to climb. And climb, and climb, and climb, they did….
with their big, beautiful, heart shaped leaves. And so, the saga continued, nothing for weeks
and weeks and weeks but more and more beautiful leaves.

And I thought to myself…

“Well, leaves are nice, but that is all I will probably get at this point.” And then, one fine and glorious morning, there it was, the most beautiful sky-blue morning glory I have ever seen!!! It seemed like a miracle to me.

I had waited over 3 months for this one delicate, funnel-shaped flower to show up and now here it was,
in all its splendor. It reminded me of just how many times I had waited in life for something I had longed for, and how incredible it felt when it finally arrived, and also, how many times, that I had wanted to throw in
the towel, and just give up.

But I wasn’t prepared for what was to happen next, with these little flowers, and I was surprised and
deeply saddened by it. Roses and geraniums and daisies and most other flowers bloom and stay around for a while, but not Morning Glories. Morning Glories open themselves up to the world, in the morning, in all of their glory, hence the name, Morning Glory.

And if you look closely at them, you will see how extraordinary they are, both in colour and texture, and that in their centre, is a kind of golden light that shines from within.

But here is the hard part…
At the end of the day, they turn a most beautiful shade of lavender, and then close up, wither and die.

They live for only one day, and then they are gone. I cannot tell you how much this saddened me, and what a profound effect this little flower had upon my life.

I kept thinking how sad to be so beautiful and live for only one day. And then, I suddenly realized what a gift they were. You see, it doesn’t matter how long your life is.

It only matters that you were here, in all your glory, that you opened up completely, and let your light shine, and that you brought joy to those who came into contact with you.

That’s what matters to the morning glory, and that’s what really matters to all of us. The morning glories make me appreciate every new day now, in a way I didn’t before.

Each evening, I go and visit with them, knowing those particular ones won’t be here tomorrow, new ones will take their place. If we knew when we woke up in the morning, that we only had that one day to really live, life would be very different indeed for many of us.

Now, each morning, I give thanks that I have been given the gift of another day, in all its glory. We can learn from all of life, if we remain open to the beauty that is all around us. And nature can be one of our greatest teachers. What a profound lesson from such a simple flower. Thank you, my sweet little morning glories!

Veronica Hay is an inspirational writer and author of In A Dream, You Can Do Anything, An Extraordinary
Collection Of Words. Her work inspires others to be more of who they really are.

For more insights and inspiration you can visit her website at: www.insightsandinspirations.com or email her at veronicahay@telus.net

Monday Pick Me Up ~ Love for No Reason

Shared by Carla

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Through the train window, she watched the villages and vineyards of the Italian countryside go by. It was 1942 and Sussi Penzias, a young Jewish woman who’d fled Nazi Germany, was traveling alone, hoping to remain unnoticed. Since she’d arrived in Italy three years earlier, she’d been moving from place to place, staying with friends and friends of friends, hiding from the authorities. Now she was on her way to yet another safe house in a new town.

Suddenly, the door at the end of the train car swung open and two police officers came in. Sussi’s heart beat wildly. They were wearing the black uniform of the Fascisti, the government police. To Sussi’s horror, the policemen began making their way down the aisle, stopping at every row to examine the papers of each passenger.

Sussi knew that as soon as the policemen discovered she had no papers, she would be arrested. She was terrified she’d end up in a concentration camp, and would face unimaginable suffering and almost certain death.

The officers were getting closer, just a few rows away. There was no escape. It was only a matter of minutes before they would reach her seat. Sussi began to tremble uncontrollably, and tears slid down her cheeks.

The man sitting next to her noticed her distress and politely asked her why she was crying.

“I’m Jewish and I have no papers,” she whispered, hardly able to speak.

To her surprise, a few seconds later the man began shouting at her, “You idiot! I can’t believe how stupid you are! What an imbecile!”

The police officers, hearing the commotion, stopped what they were doing and came over. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked. Sussi began crying even harder.

The man turned a disgusted face to the policemen and said, “Officers, take this woman away! I have my papers, but my wife has forgotten hers! She always forgets everything. I’m so sick of her. I don’t ever want to see her again!”

The officers laughed, shaking their heads at the couple’s marital spat, and moved on.

With a selfless act of caring, the stranger on the train had saved Sussi’s life. Sussi never saw the man again. She never even knew his name.

Monday Pick Me Up – The Thread of a Dream

Getting started this year has been a slow process for me.

This story and song were VERY helpful for me, may they be helpful for you too!

shared by Carla

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When I was researching the history of the building of the Brooklyn Bridge as a major illustration for the ideas of success and motivation, I became engrossed with the story of how the first bridge was built over Niagara Falls.

You see, to build a bridge over a giant gorge, first you have to get a line over the canyon, from one side to the other. Easier said than done at Niagara Falls.

The engineers couldn’t cross the falls in a boat to take the line from one side to the other because the boat would go over the falls. And the airplane hadn’t been invented yet. The distance was also way beyond the bow-and-arrow range, which had been a common method at the time of getting the first line across to build a bridge. The designing engineer, Charles Ellet, pondered the question until he came up with a revolutionary idea.

He decided that, while solving the problem, he would also have some fun and generate some publicity for
the project. Ellet sponsored a kite flying contest and offered five dollars to the first person who could fly a kite across the gorge and let it go low enough to the ground for someone to be able to grab the string.

In 1849, five dollars was a prize similar to a small lottery today. The boy who won the prize relished his accomplishment until his death, nearly 80 years later. It all began with an idea and one thin kite string.
The kite string was used to pull a cord across, then a line, then a rope. Next came an iron-wire cable and then steel cables, until a structure strong enough to build a suspension bridge was in place.

I’m struck by how that string is like a single thought. The more vivid and clear the thought, and the more you come back to it, the stronger it becomes – like the string to the rope to a cable. Each time you rethink it, dwell on it, or layer it with other thoughts, you are strengthening the structure on which to build your idea, like building a bridge over Niagara Falls.

But unlike a kite, there is no string attached to how high and how far your goals may take you. They are limited only by the power of your imagination and the strength of your desire.

Denis Waitley

Denis Waitley is one of America’s most respected authors, keynote lecturers and productivity consultants on high performance human achievement. Visit his website at www.deniswaitley.com

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As always you are welcome to share your comments and questions here on the blog!

Monday Pick Me Up – Changing Lives

Happy New Year!

Shared By Carla

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Some years ago, I attended a self-improvement seminar and the speaker was Jim Rohn. He said, “Everything matters in life, some things a little and some things a lot, we just don’t know which is which.”
Moreover, I believed him. Now if I may, I would like to relate a personal experience, which occurred when I was a motorcycle officer that strengthened this belief and taught a young man that everything in life
does indeed matter.

I was a motorcycle officer with the Los Angeles Police Department and I was working speed complaints
out of West Traffic Division. On 6 January 1986, I was working a speed complaint on one of the streets in the hills of Bel Air. It was around 9:30 in the morning. I had stopped at the base of a hill and had placed
my radar on the handlebar of my motorcycle to monitor traffic coming down the hill.

This was a residential area and the road was narrow with numerous curves and was posted at 25 miles per hour. I had just finished writing a couple of tickets when I heard the audio on the radar, looked up
the road and saw a small sports car coming down the hill.

I glanced at the digital readout on the radar unit and saw that the car was traveling close to 50 miles per hour. I stepped out into the street and waved the driver over to the curb. The driver was a young man in his early 20’s on his way to UCLA for a morning class. I told him why I had stopped him and started to
write him a ticket. He, of course, did not want the ticket and tried to talk me out of it.

His name was Christopher and he was a good kid. Nevertheless, he was trying his best to stop me from writing him a ticket. Never rude, always polite, but determined to convince me to let him go. We bantered back and forth, he would raise his voice in support of his position, but I calmly explained why he should get the ticket.

When he saw I was still going to write him the ticket, he asked me, “What If I had not stopped; you were not on your motorcycle, would you have chased me?” I replied, “Most likely not”.

About this time, I heard the audio on the radar and noticed that the digital readout registered 52 miles
per hour. I looked up and saw a young man coming down the hill on a motorcycle. I stepped out in front of him and waved him into the curb. He was going too fast and passed us, but he was slowing down. I walked towards the motorcycle rider and my back was to Christopher. The motorcyclist had turned around and was coming back to me. Then he suddenly made a quick U-turn and sped down the hill.

I turned around and walked back to Christopher and said, “Well, one got away.”

He said, “I waved him on”. I said, “What?” He said, “I waved him on.” I replied, “Oh, no! You should not have done that.”

He had a puzzled look on his face and asked, “Why not, it won’t matter?” I told him everything in life matters, some things a little and some things a lot. We just do not know which is which. The look on Christopher’s face clearly indicated to me that he did not believe me. I finished the ticket and we talked a little more about life and philosophy, then Christopher went to class and I went to court.

Three days later, I was back working that same area and had three cars stopped. While I was writing the tickets, I noticed that a car coming up the hill had stopped across from me. There were three or four people in the car. It was obvious to me that they were waiting to talk to me.

I finished the last ticket and the driver of the car got out and walked over to me. He had a very sad look about him. I could tell something was bothering him. As he approached me, he asked, “Do you remember me?” “Yes,” I replied, “you are Christopher.” He then said, “You taught me a valuable lesson the other day when you told me that everything in life matters. I didn’t believe you then, but now I do.”

“How do you mean?” I asked. “Do you remember the boy on the motorcycle?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied, “I do remember him.” “Well,” he said, “he was my roommate and that is why I waved him on. I thought I was helping him. After he turned around, he made a wrong turn and went down a street, which ended in a cul-de-sac and hit a large planter in the center of the cul-de-sac. He died instantly. You were right when you said everything in life matters.”

I was shocked and found it hard to believe, even though I had been with LAPD for 18 ½ years. We talked for a few more minutes. I expressed my sorrow, we shook hands and then we both left.

I rode to the station in Venice and looked up the traffic reports for 6 January and sure enough, there it was. I still could not believe it. I mentioned what had happened to another officer whose was in the station at the time. His response was that the kid deserved to die for fleeing the scene; I thought this could not be happening; I do not want to be like him.

As police officers and especially motor officers we are suppose to be saving lives, not pleased because some kid made a bad decision and died. Over the next several days, I gave a lot of thought to this situation and my life in general. I decided I did not want to be a police officer anymore and I needed a change.

So I resigned in February 1986 after 18 ½ years with LAPD to pursue my passion, network marketing.

I thought that I should listen to my own advice about how everything matters and look at this situation
as an opportunity to make some serious changes in my life. I have never regretted leaving LAPD even though my business plans did not quite work the way I had hoped back in 1986.

However, over the years, they have and I have had a successful network marketing business since 1995.

Could now be the time for you to make a life change? If it is, I would encourage you to do so.

Based on my experience you will not be sorry. I turned 65 in September 2008; I am in great health
and could not be happier.

Duane Spears

You can reach Duane at duane@duanespears.com