This came in a forwarded mail...

The Signal
Retold by Alice Gray

The young man sat alone on the bus and most of the time stared out the window. He was in his mid-twenties, nice looking with a kind face. His dark blue shirt matched the color of his eyes. His hair was short and neat. Occasionally he would look away from the window and the anxiety on his young face touched the heart of the grandmotherly woman sitting across the aisle. The bus was just approaching the outskirts of a small town when she was so drawn to the young man that she scooted across the aisle and asked permission to sit next to him.

After a few moments of small talk about the warm spring weather, he blurted out, “I’ve been in prison for two years. I just got out this morning and I’m going home.” His words tumbled out as he told her he was raised in a poor but proud family and how his crime had brought his family shame and heartbreak. In the whole two years he had not heard from them. He knew they were too poor to travel the distance to where he had been in prison and his parents prob­ably felt too uneducated to write. He had stopped writing them when no answers came.

Three weeks before being released, he desperately wrote one more letter to his family. He told them how sorry he was for disap­pointing them and asked for their forgiveness.

He went on to explain about being released from prison and that he would take the bus to his hometown—the one that goes right by the front yard of the house where he grew up and where his parents still lived. In his letter, he said he would understand if they wouldn’t forgive him.

He wanted to make it easy for them and so asked them to give him a signal that he could see from the bus. If they had forgiven him and wanted him to come back home, they could tie a white ribbon on the old apple tree that stood in the front yard. If the signal wasn’t there, he would stay on the bus, leave town and be out of their lives forever.

As the bus neared his street, the young man became more and more anxious to the point he was afraid to look out the window because he was so sure there would be no ribbon.

After listening to his story, the woman asked simply, “Would it help if we traded seats and I’ll sit near to the window and look for you?” The bus traveled a few more blocks and then she saw the tree. She gently touched the young man’s shoulder and choking back tears said, “Look! Oh look! The whole tree is covered with white ribbons.”















I know this is a tree of white flowers...but heck! It's beautiful. Was taken in the next street by Lydia a few weeks ago...*grinz*


* This story reminds me of this song....

!~! Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree !~!
Tony Orlando & Dawn

I'm coming home I've done my time
But I've got to know what is and isn't mine...
If you received my letter telling you I'll soon be free
Then you'll know just what to do
If you still want me
If you still want me....

(Chorus)
Oh, tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree
It's been three long years
Do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the old oak tree
I'll stay on the bus
Forget about us
Put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree

Bus driver please look for me
Cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see
I'm really still in prison and my love she holds the key
A simple yellow ribbon's what I need to set me free
I wrote and told her please

(Chorus)
Oh, tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree
It's been three long years
Do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the old oak tree
I'll stay on the bus
Forget about us
Put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree

Now the whole damned bus is cheering
And I can't believe I see
A hundred yellow ribbons round the old, the old oak tree

I'm coming home...