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Around the World in 88 Years -E Book - Arthur Burt

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My briefcaseSome <strong>in</strong>cidents are like a scar on a man’s life. They never goaway; he never forgets <strong>the</strong>m. Once I was travel<strong>in</strong>g from Duluthto M<strong>in</strong>neapolis, and while I was wait<strong>in</strong>g for a connect<strong>in</strong>g flight, Ileft my suitcases near <strong>the</strong> ticket counter and went to make a phonecall. There were two rows of telephone booths with open<strong>in</strong>gs at<strong>the</strong> bottom where you could look <strong>in</strong> to see if <strong>the</strong>y were occupied.I went <strong>in</strong>to a booth and put my briefcase between my feet. Itook out my little telephone book, stood it up on <strong>the</strong> ledge, andbegan to count out <strong>the</strong> quarters <strong>the</strong> operator said I needed. WhileI was count<strong>in</strong>g out <strong>the</strong> quarters, I felt a movement between myfeet, and suddenly, my briefcase was gone. Everyth<strong>in</strong>g of importancewas <strong>in</strong> it — my tickets, money, passport — everyth<strong>in</strong>g.Foolishly, I panicked, not know<strong>in</strong>g what to do. I left <strong>the</strong> phonedangl<strong>in</strong>g and rushed out <strong>in</strong>to a mill<strong>in</strong>g crowd of hundreds andhundreds of people, look<strong>in</strong>g through <strong>the</strong>m desperately, but couldsee noth<strong>in</strong>g of my briefcase or of <strong>the</strong> one who had slipped it outfrom between my feet.“Lord,” I prayed, clos<strong>in</strong>g my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m altoge<strong>the</strong>rwrong. I’ve lost my peace. I’ve panicked. I don’t know what todo.” I stood <strong>the</strong>re utterly helpless.God spoke to me: “Return to your bags at <strong>the</strong> ticket counter.” Ididn’t want my o<strong>the</strong>r bags. I desperately needed my briefcase,but leav<strong>in</strong>g everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> booth — <strong>the</strong> telephone dangl<strong>in</strong>g,<strong>the</strong> stack of quarters, my phone book propped up aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong>ledge — I obeyed <strong>the</strong> Lord and went to <strong>the</strong> ticket counter. WhenI got <strong>the</strong>re, to my complete astonishment, I found between mytwo bags was my briefcase.Now, reason would say I never took it with me to <strong>the</strong> phonebooth — but I did take it. I pulled my telephone book out of mybriefcase between my two feet, and I felt a hand pull it out frombetween my feet through <strong>the</strong> aperture at <strong>the</strong> bottom of <strong>the</strong> telephonebooth. How it ever got between my two bags at <strong>the</strong> ticketcounter was beyond my reason. When I had repented of myfear, God, <strong>in</strong> His mercy and grace, gave me back my bag.216

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