Please post or bpublish my newest written story.
----- Original Message ----- 
From: Joe Mazzella 
To: [email protected] 
Cc: [email protected] 
Sent: Monday, June 07, 2010 6:53 PM
Subject: reformatted story: The Cassette


The Cassette    
 by: Cytnhia Groopman

In September of 1999, a few days before my trip to Chicago to receive the 
student of the year award from the Hadley school for the Blind, I was just 
cleaning out a carton that had many different varieties of items that were not 
touched for about six years. There were different braille letters that were 
never thrown away, a few empty cassette containers, some plain thick braille 
paper and last but not least a cassette tape.

I threw away the items but kept the cassette tape. I have so many cassette  
tapes and do not have the dyno tape to put a braille label on the cassettes. 
However, the cassette felt special to me, smiled at me, glowed and there was 
something special about it. I hurriedly fetched a cassette player, opened it 
and placed the cassette into it. I then felt a warmth come over me and a 
special hug. Oh, I said, to myself, why am I feeling thes eextraordinary 
feelings, of mirth and majesty. My heart was dancing and my soul was feeling a 
deep spiritual connection with a dear one from the past who had touched and 
embraced my life in an extraordinary way.

I pressed the play button, and to my surprise, I heard my dad's voice speaking 
to me on that cassette.
He had written me a surprise letter and never told me about it. I have not 
heard his physical voice since August 16, 1996, when prior to his passing on to 
the eternal life in heaven with God. Oh, I jumped up and down like a gleeful 
child, ran into my brother's apartment which is next door to my own, and we 
both embraced and tears were flowing from my eyes, as we heard dad's surprise 
letter to me.

What a beautiful surprise that crowned my heart and soul with  exquisite 
splendor, and the remembrance of a man who impacted and enriched my life with 
joy, smiles, sunshine, and taught me right from wrong, to grow in the right 
away, to be self disciplined and caring to others.
Usually on father's day, we give gifts to our dads to show appreciation to 
them, but on that September day eleven years ago, my dad had given me a 
cherished gift one to love and eternally remember, his voice.

That cassette tape was found by me not by chance but by Divine intervention, 
since it gave me confidence and courage to make that trip to Winnetka to get 
that award, and at that award ceremony I felt his angelic presence watching 
over me and thus dedicated the award to the most wonderful man in my life, my 
dad.
Again, as I have mentioned in many stories and poems, cherished memories or of 
dear loved ones are our gifts, our treasures and are our flowers that forever 
will flourish in our gardens of our hearts, souls and memories.

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