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Blue Card Messages

carriesuepepper • Mar 20, 2012

We are on week 8 of The Greatest Secret by Og Mandino.  I’d read The Greatest Salesman in the World, but fell short on reading the Ten Scrolls.  It would have been a simple task to read them once through – but no, the assignment is to read each scroll 3 x per day for an entire month.  I never stuck with it.  Until one man named Jeff invited me to join his group and, together as a team, we all committed to reading these scrolls together.

The power of the group keeps me following the plan – three times a day, no matter what.  You wouldn’t think that reading something that takes all of 5 minutes, three times a day would be all that difficult – but it is.  This time, though, I had The Greatest Secret, which is the journalized version.  It comes complete with a “Success Recorder” where you actually keep track of your progress, marking each day how many times you read – or didn’t read – your daily scroll.  The introduction talks about the majority and reminds us that most will not stick with this task – and that was the difference.  I did not want to be one of the majority.   I did not want to fall out or fail, and so I am on week 8.  The thoughts and lessons and truths of these scrolls are beginning to seep into my subconscious.  It is a subtle change and it is starting to show up in my life and in my dreams now.

I went to bed feeling unhappy earlier this week.  I lay there and thought about all the things I used to do that I enjoyed, things that “made me happy” I reminded myself – tennis, photography, x/c skiing.  I stopped many of these things because of the issues I had with hip dysplasia.  Both my hips just wore out – like an old German shepherd.  You’ve seen them limping.  And, slowly, I stopped doing those things that challenged me, the physical activities. Then, those restrictions gravitated from the physical to the mental – I just stopped all these things that I said “made me happy.”  I reminded myself that I needed to get back to those now that I have two new bionic hips and no pain at all anymore.  Yes, that’s what I would do – then, I would be happy.  As I slept, a blue (index) card appeared in front of me, with writing on it.  Someone handed me the card and said, “ You are either a happy person or you’re not – nothing you do or don’t do is going to make you happy.”  Just decide to be a happy person.  When I awoke, I remembered those words.  Little by little, the messages of the scrolls seep in, they change thoughts.  My reminders come to me at night, written out on blue index cards.

Last night, the card had two things written on it.  I couldn’t read the first one, but it was something about a job description for this business I’m in.  The 2 nd qualification was: “And the ability to give lots of hugs.”  Another reminder that this is all about giving, loving others and letting go.

The post Blue Card Messages first appeared on Carrie Pepper.

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By Carrie Pepper • 30 Nov, 2023
Out on my morning walk, street signs acted as memory joggers. Perhaps they were nudges so that I could remember, and be grateful for, these two women who were there for me as a kid. BRADFORD was the first sign. Grammy Bradford. I never called her anything else and I have no idea what her first name was, but I do remember she was there to tend to me when I was little while my mother went off to work at her government job "in procurement," which she hated. I know nothing, really, of what she did there, but I do remember the room. It seemed there were hundreds of desks in this huge room, no partitions. Dark grey desks and heavy black telephones. I visited her there a few times and she'd give me tablets and pens to keep me busy. I was ALWAYS thrilled to have a tablet and a pen! What she did there is a mystery to me, but when she and my father would argue, which was often, she'd always say, "I want my own money," and so off she went to work every morning at the Defense General Supply Center. He told her she didn't need to work, that he could support her, but, again, she wanted her own money. Back to Mrs. Bradford, Grammy. She was a bit on the heavy side (which I thought made for the best, most cuddly hugs) with long grey hair that she wore up with tons of bobby pins. She always wore a floral bib apron with large pockets and she'd fill them with pears when we'd go to that special corner of our back yard. Oh the smell! Those yellow pears and the carpet of yellow leaves. Memories of Grammy Bradford brought back memories of Thelma Massenburg. She looked exactly like Aunt Jemima (OH FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES, we can't say Aunt Jemima anymore!) Recently a friend told me he'd made pancakes and I asked what kind of syrup he used. When he said, "Pearl Milling," I thought it sounded kinda cool, but when I looked it up I found out it was the new name for Aunt Jemima syrup. SERIOUSLY? Anyway, she was wonderful. She cleaned our house, scrubbed the floors and walls and worked harder than anyone I'd ever seen. I loved her. She always wore a bandana tied around her head. She lived in a tiny reddish tar papered house with ten children. Who knows where they all slept! She was diabetic and I was a little stinker and liked to tease her with Hershey Bars. I'd wave one in front of her nose and she'd smile and say," "You bad, chile." The last time I saw her she was in the hospital and her eyes were very, very yellow. Liver disease. The scarf that was always wrapped around her head was gone and I am sure that I could hear her say, "You bad, chile," although she probably didn't. Thank you my sweet Thelma. My Aunt Jemima.
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