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--- On Mon, 2/22/10, Cheryl Jolly <cjolly219@embarqmail.com> wrote:
From: Cheryl Jolly <cjolly219@embarqmail.com>
Subject: The Yellow Shirt
To: "Undisclosed" <cjolly219@embarqmail.com>
Date: Monday, February 22, 2010, 4:53 PM
> Careful not to delete. Read to the end
> and make your choice..
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> The yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in
> black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear,
> but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from
> college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom
> intended to give away..
>
> 'You're not taking that old thing, are you?' Mom said when she
> saw me packing the yellow shirt. 'I wore that when I was pregnant with
> your brother in 1954!'
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> 'It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class,
> Mom. Thanks!' I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object.
> The yellow shirt be came a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it.
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> After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new
> apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.
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> The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the
> yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my
> family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois . But, that
> shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she
> was pregnant, 25 years earlier.
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> That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given
> me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom.
> When Mom wrote to thank me for her 'real' gifts, she said the yellow
> shirt was lovely.. She never mentioned it again..
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> The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and
> Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the
> kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The
> shirt!
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> And so the pattern was set.
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> On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom
> and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it,
> but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our
> living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now
> while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.
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> In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I
> prepared to move back to Illinois . As I packed, a deep depression
> overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I
> would find a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In
> Ephesians, I read, 'So use every piece of God's armor to resist the
> enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing
> up.'
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> I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but all I saw was
> the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me.. Wasn't my mother's
> love a piece of God's armor? My courage was renewed.
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> Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to
> Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser
> drawer
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> Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later
> I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet.
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> Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green
> across the breast pocket were the words 'I BELONG TO PAT.'
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> Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and
> added an apostrophe and seven more letters.
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> Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, 'I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER.'
> But I didn't stop there. I zig-zagged all the frayed seams, then had a
> friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington , VA. We
> enclosed an official looking letter from 'The Institute for the
> Destitute,' announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good
> deeds..
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> I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened
> the box. But, of course, she never mentioned it..
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> Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding,
> Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers.
> After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I
> reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I
> unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt.
> Inside a pocket was a note: 'Read John 14:27-29. I love you both,
> Mother..'
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> That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found
> the verses: 'I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And
> the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives.. So
> don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away,
> but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be
> very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I
> am.. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they
> do, you will believe in me.'
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> The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three
> months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the
> following year at age 57.
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> I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave.
> But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled
> game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in
> college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy
> yellow shirt with big pockets.
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> You have 6 minutes.....
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> There's some mighty fine advice in these words, even if you're
> not superstitious. This has been sent To you for good luck from the
> Anthony Robbins organization. It has been sent around the world ten
> times so Far. You will receive good luck within four days of relaying
> this .
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> Do not keep this message. It must leave your hands in 6
> MINUTES.
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> otherwise you will get a very unpleasant surprise. This is true,
> even if you are not superstitious, agnostic, or otherwise faith
> impaired.
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> Now, here's the FUN part!
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> < /P>
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> 1-4 people: Your life will improve slightly.
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> 5-9 people: Your life will improve to your liking.
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> 9-14 people: You will have at least 5 surprises in the next 3
> weeks
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> 15 and above: Your life will improve drastically and everything
> you ever dreamed of will begin to take shape.
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> A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches
> your heart.
>
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