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When I was a little boy my
Godfather lived on a hill above my home. "Little
Frankie" as everyone called him
was a small, 80
year old, first generation, Italian immigrant.
He had worked for the railroads his entire life
and had saved a lot of money. Still, he lived a
19th century life in a 20th century world. He
lived in 3 rooms of a slowly crumbling, 100 year
old house. He didn't have electricity or running
water. He cooked his meals and heated his rooms
with an ancient, cast iron, coal stove. His
clothes were old, patched, and worn. A lot of
people saw all of this and looked down on him. I
never did, however. When I went up the hill to
visit him I always felt at home. Little Frankie
had a simple joy and peace about him that
touched my heart. We could sit and talk for
hours. He was a loving soul and even though he
died when I was still very young, he has had an
influence on my life that lasts to this day.

Little Frankie taught me that enlightenment
isn't being free of work, problems, and pains.
It comes rather from facing them all with a
peaceful spirit and a loving heart. He taught me
that having more things doesn't bring you more
happiness. He took more pleasure out of a meal
of friend potatoes than a billionaire could get
dining on champagne and caviar. He taught me
most of all that the greatest joy comes from the
quiet time you spend with God. I have had few
moments as joyful as the ones I spent with
Little Frankie just silently sitting on a rock
and listening to the stream that ran by his
home. He was one of the greatest men I ever
knew.

The 21st century may be full of things that help
us to connect with each other, but to have real
love, joy, and oneness with God we need to
connect with the quiet in our own hearts and
souls. In honor of Little Frankie then I am
going to turn off my television, cell phone, and
computer for a while today. I am going to go sit
by a stream, remember him, and spend some time
with God.
©
Joseph J.
Mazzella
Used with permission
Please
honor author's copyrights by seeking permission
first before
using this poem in any way. To reach author,
click on his name
above.
Midi playing ~ "Greenbriar
Glen"
©
Élan Michaels
Used with permission





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