I COULD ONLY WISH
I thought there was nothing left on the face of the earth that I had not seen or experienced. However, my trip to New York City last week was something I will never forget.
I was very quiet as I walked down what appeared to be the never-ending corridors of John F. Kennedy Airport. Still, I said nothing, as I stood almost motionless riding on the New York City subway. I watched constantly from the corner of my eye, looking at the hundreds of sad, lonely smiles on the people’s faces. They were individuals, who appeared to be suspended in almost a comatose state of mind.
There were thousands upon thousands of people with innocent looking faces, all with glassy eyes, all waiting for darkness to arrive. Each one constantly moving in a forward motion, marching as if they were a massive army headed into battle - a look as if a war was taking place somewhere off in nowhere land.
Late that evening, my son Roger and I took the elevator to the top floor of the Empire State Building. I reached out, pushed open the glass door and stepped out onto the cold, windy platform surrounding the top of the massive building. I do not know if there are any words in the human language that could possibly describe what I saw at that very moment in my life. I only know that God has to peer through all that beauty, before He Himself can see all the sadness and loneliness lurking below.
The next morning, as I walked down the streets of New York, I was mentally preparing myself to do a television show about my book. As I reached the studio, my legs were weak and I wished with all my might that this were not happening to me. However, I knew that it was too late to back out now and I knew in my heart I carried a message the world needed to hear.
After the live show had aired, I was so thankful I made it through and it was over. I gathered my things together and walked to the front door of the studio. When I pushed the door open, I saw in front of me a large black limousine with a sign in the window that read, "Talk show limousine, Mr. Kiser."
I took a very deep breath of cold New York air, looked over at my wonderful 24-year-old son and saw a look of pride on his face I had never seen before. That had to be just about the best feeling I have ever known as a father. However, the best was yet to come.
The limousine driver opened the back door, nodded his head and raised his hand for me to enter. I picked up my briefcase, smiled and said to myself, “God, I accept this ride in the name of every child, orphan or not, who has ever felt hunger, been slapped up side the head or kicked in the rear-end, while crying their eyes out as they ran to their bedroom.”
I raised my black imitation leather shoe, which hid the hole in the toe of my sock - the same cheap shoes my wife had so proudly bought several days before at the local Wal-Mart store in Brunswick, Georgia. I placed my shoe onto the deep pile carpet inside the limousine, sat down on the soft leather seat and away we drove. It was a wonderful, wonderful feeling.
I only wish I could have been someone else, just for a moment or two, so I could have stood to the side of the road and waved at all abused kids as they drove away in that beautiful black limousine. I would have given almost anything to see it with my very own eyes.
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