Going for the Gold!

Written by Jim M. Allen

I ran across an interesting quote recently:

"We worked in those mines, waiting for our golden years. Well, now it's our golden years, and it's done nothing but cost us gold. This is no way to live."

Those powerful words came from Jack Beeson, a retired uranium miner, who was testifying beforerepparttar U.S. Congress.

While Mr. Beeson was referring specifically to money in his quote, it occurred to me that his words just as equally applied to life itself and our general pursuit of happiness.

Think about it...

How many people do you know who are toiling, struggling, suffering through their daily lives hoping for -- no: WAITING FOR -- a few golden years atrepparttar 131339 end?

How many people work so hard to provide for their "golden years" that they missrepparttar 131340 fact that each and every day is precious in and of itself?

Hunting the Fear Bear

Written by Jim M. Allen

ack when I was 12, my best friend Shane and I spent most of our summer weekends camping inrepparttar thick woods behind my family's farm house. We'd pitch our tent next torepparttar 131336 fishing pond and would spendrepparttar 131337 weekend inrepparttar 131338 great outdoors.

While we imagined we were living offrepparttar 131339 fat ofrepparttar 131340 land, we were really living offrepparttar 131341 larder of my father: Once or twice a day we'd go torepparttar 131342 house, a mere quarter mile away, share a meal with my family, and stock up on chips, snacks and thermosfuls of sweet iced-tea. On Sunday mornings we would breakfast atrepparttar 131343 house for Sunday wasrepparttar 131344 day that my father ventured intorepparttar 131345 kitchen to make a batch of his famous (at least amongrepparttar 131346 Allen clan) biscuits-and-sausage-gravy.

It was one of these Sunday mornings thatrepparttar 131347 great bear hunting incident took place.

We woke early one morning and set uponrepparttar 131348 task of fishing. If we were lucky we could catch a few fish before going on up torepparttar 131349 house for breakfast. It was a peaceful day and we were enjoyingrepparttar 131350 silence until we were disturbed byrepparttar 131351 clamor of something moving inrepparttar 131352 woods. Quiet at first but increasingly louder,repparttar 131353 raucous noise quickly proved to be nothing than my younger sister, all of seven, traipsing loudly downrepparttar 131354 trail fromrepparttar 131355 house.

"Keep it down, will you, we're fishing!" I yelled.

"Fine," she said, sticking her tongue out atrepparttar 131356 two of us. "Then I won't tell you that Dad said breakfast is ready." And she turned and tromped back uprepparttar 131357 trail louder than before.

As soon as she was gone, Shane and I eagerly started winding our reels in. Both our stomach's were growling atrepparttar 131358 thought ofrepparttar 131359 meal to come. Just as we we're setting our poles next torepparttar 131360 tent, we heard a scream that was obviously Michelle. Shane and I ran downrepparttar 131361 path, towardsrepparttar 131362 noise, going just a short distance before seeing my sister who was tearing back downrepparttar 131363 path towards us.

"What'srepparttar 131364 matter?" Shane asked, putting his arm around her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears and she was shaking likerepparttar 131365 treetops in a thunderstorm.

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