I decided to post this after reading the Jesus was a socialist post.
There's a man I used to know who many years ago lost his hand in an accident. The accident happened well before I was born, and I never asked him many details. I do know that his hand was mangled so they amputated it at the wrist. Then infection set in and they had to amputate more of his arm just below his elbow.
He didn't let this slow him down. He still went fishing. He still drove a vehicle. He even rolled his own cigarettes because a can of Prince Albert was cheaper than a carton of premade cigs. He also kept working because he had a wife and three kids to feed.
He got a job at a Feed & Seed store. One of his jobs was to load the bags of feed and seed on the trucks that came in. All of this was done by hand. All of the farmers that came in wanted him to be the one to load their trucks because even with just one arm he loaded the bags faster than the other workers.
As he got older he had some heart problems so he decided to slow down a bit. By this time he had also been a preacher for several years so he could have more time to spend tending to church matters. Finally the heart problems got so bad that he had to have triple by-pass surgery. The doctor told him the while he needed to take it easy he also needed to do some exercise like walking.
He figured that if he needed to get exercise he may as well do it in a way that would make him some money. There was a gas station/convenience store located about a half a mile from his house. He went to the store owner and asked if any help was needed running the cash register. The owner hired him and every morning he'd walk from his house to the store. When his shift was over he'd walk back home. For all intents and purposes he was getting paid for low impact exercising.
The thing that he really appreciated about working at the store was that it helped him with his hobby: collecting old coins. He'd carry a large pocket of change with him to work. Every time he'd come across an old buffalo nickel, mercury dime, real silver quarter, half-dollar, or dollar, he'd exchange it for the change that he'd brought from home. It got to the point that everyone was helping him in his coin quest. I don't know how much old money that he had in total. I do know that he had the coins separated by face value in large piggy-banks that were almost too heavy to lift.
He had a strange sense of humor. There were times when he told you something he'd tell it with such a straight face that it would take a while to determine if he was joking. There were other times that it would get the better of him and he couldn't finish telling the story without breaking up laughing. I still remember the true story about the snake he and the neighbor killed. He didn't want to tell it to begin with because it was embarrassing, but when he started he couldn't stop laughing at himself. He and his neighbor were both outside for some reason. I can't remember why, but it doesn't matter. One of them spotted a snake between their properties. They both spent a long amount of time beating the living hell out of the snake before they realized that it was one of the neighborhood kids' rubber snake. His telling of the story was much more detailed and very entertaining.
He finally passed away around 1994. He had lived a fairly long and full life and at his funeral there were tons of friends and family.
The entire time that I knew him he was never bitter, pissy, or hateful. He knew Jesus wasn't a socialist, and he never felt like anyone owed him something. I was amazed at what he accomplished and what he could do with what most everyone would consider a handicap. I'm proud that he was my paternal grandfather. The parasites at the DUmp could learn a lot from him.
