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I did not write this nor do I know who did, it was sent to me from my sister and I think everyperson should read!!!!!!!


This is so touching I had to share it with each of you.
 
We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the
night. This night's call was no different. Jerking up to the ringing
summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight
Panicky thought! s filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the
receiver.
 
Hello?"
 
My heart pounded; I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who
was now turning to face my side of the bed.
 
Mama?" I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts
immediately went to my daughter. When the desperate sound of a young
crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and
,squeezed his wrist.
 
"Mama, I know it's late, but don't...don't say anything, until I
finish.
And before you ask, yes, I've been drinking. I nearly ran off the road
a
few miles back, and..."
 
I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my
hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted
to fight back the panic Something wasn't right.
 
"And I got so scared. All I could think about was how it would hurt
you
if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I want...to
come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've been worried
sick. I should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..."
 
Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my
heart. Immediately I pictured my daughter's face in my mind and my
fogged senses seemed to clear. "I think--"
 
"No! Please let me finish! Please!" She pleaded, not so much in anger
but in desperation.
 
I paused and tried to think of what to say. Before I could go on, she
continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I shouldn't be drinking
now...especially now, but I'm scared, Mama. So scared!" The voice broke
again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes fill with moisture I
looked at my husband who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"
 
I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the
room, returning seconds later with the portable phone held to his ear.
She must have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are
you still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so
alone."
 
I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm
here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.
 
"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we talk, you just keep
telling me what I should do. You read all those pamphlets on how to
talk about sex and all, but all you do is talk. You don't listen to me.
You
never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren't
important. Because you're my mother, you think you have all the
answers.  But sometimes I don't need answers. I just want someone to
listen."
 
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-
to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my night stand. "I'm listening," I
whispered.
 
"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control,
I
started thinking about the baby and taking care of it. Then I saw this
phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people
shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home."
 
"That's good, Honey," I said as relief filled my chest My husband came
closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine. I knew
from his touch that he thought I was doing and saying the right thing.
 
"But you know, I think I can drive now."
 
"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened, and I tightened the clasp on my
husband's hand. "Please, wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on me until
the taxi gets there" "I just want to come home, Mama."
 
"I know. But do this for your mama. Wait for the taxi, please." I
listened to the silence in fear. When I didn't hear her answer, I bit
into my lip and closed my eyes. Somehow I had to stop her from
driving.
 
"There's the taxi, now."
 
Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab
did I feel my tension easing.
 
"I'm coming home, Mama." There was a click and the phone went silent.
Moving from the bed with tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into
the hall and went to stand in my sixteen-year-old daughter's room. The
dark silence hung thick. My husband came from behind, wrapped his arms
around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. I wiped the tears
from my cheeks. "We have to learn to listen," I said.
 
He pulled me around to face him. "We'll learn. You'll see." Then he
took
me into his arms, and I buried my head in his shoulder. I let him hold
me for several moments, then I pulled back and stared back at the bed.
He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know
she dialed the wrong number?"
 
I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't
such a wrong number."
 
"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled young voice came from under
the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring into
the darkness. "We're practicing," I answered.
 
"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes
already closed in slumber.
 
"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over her cheek.
 
I wrote your name on a piece of paper, but by accident I threw it away.
  I wrote your name on my hand, but it washed away. I wrote your name in
the sand, but the waves whispered it away. I wrote your name in my
heart, and forever it will stay..
 
Send this to everyone you love including the person that sent it to

Amen sister, we need to instruct our children in the proper ways, but if we do not listen, how do we know just what instructions that we need to give and when to give them. Yes we need to listen to things that our children say, 'listen' to the things that they do. We also need to learn to love in the way that Jesus loves us.