Heart Touchers

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{Straight From the Heart} *The Sunray Catcher* 3/8/01

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Today we have a special story from Ken "Duke" Monse'Broten, who is
an inmate at Snake River Correctional Institute in the state of Oregon.
He does not have an email address that you can contact him at,
but please take the time to write a regular letter or post card, and
send it to him and let him know how his story affected you...and believe me it will!

My thanks to Tom Lagana, author of Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul for
sending this one my way. Be sure to read how you can get an autographed
copy of the book at the end of today's story!
Michael
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The Sunray Catcher

By Ken "Duke" Monse'Broten

Today, in the prison chow hall, I overheard a young female officer talking to another officer. She was talking about her special little girl. Seems this little girl was standing on the front seat of her car the other day, grabbing at the sunrays as they reflected off the windshield. When her mother asked her what she was doing, the little girl said she was trying to catch a sunray for her mom as a present. Both officers agreed on how special moments like that were. The other officer then asked if this mother got to spend time with her special little girl.
"No, but when my career gets back on track, I'll have more time to spend with her, when she is older," said the young mother.
I wanted to scream and tell her that mother to spend every single second she possibly can with her child, but I couldn't. Maybe after you read what follows, you will better understand.
It's the awful truth, as it happened to me. It starts with an unwritten letter -- a letter I can never send:

Dear Kent,
As I look at you, I see your hair is nicely combed. I remember the hours and gallons of water we used, trying to train your hair. It always seemed to have a mind of its own. I can see that scar on your lip; hardly shows now, too. We were worried about that. You were such a brave little man when I took you to Dr. Nordquist to get those three stitches in it. I was the one who almost fainted when they started sticking you with that needle. The nurse even made me leave the room.
On the way home, I told you that you could have any treat you wanted, for being so brave. You wanted a cup of coffee, "Like big men drink," you said. My five-year-old little brave man, drinking coffee in the Rainbow Restaurant, just like big men. It was our secret; lucky Mom never found out, huh?
You have grown tall and nice looking. Grandpa always said you were going to be a big man. Guess what I'm proudest of in you? It's your kindness to all things. When we found out that your little dog, Porkchop, was epileptic, you were so happy that you cried. You had seen Porkchop have fits many times, and we were sure he would die. For three years after that, you faithfully gave Porkchop his pill every day.
I remember the day you helped me fix my pickup. We sure got greasy -- Mom wouldn't even let us in the house for lunch, but we fooled her. We went to the store and got a pizza, then lipped off to Mom and your two brothers, while eating it, still dirty. Yes, that was fun. We laughed a lot that day. I found out later that you did save a piece of pizza for your little brother; it was our secret too.
I've always been proud of you for so many reasons, Kent. Your silent kindness and strength, your loyalty, your soft heart, and secrets you shared with me. I remember how you used to lay across my lap with your shirt pulled up, exposing your bare back. I would trace my fingers lightly over your skin; it seemed to almost hypnotize you. I had done it many times when you were a baby, to get you to sleep when you weren't feeling good. Guess you just never grew out of liking it. I liked it too.
I remember the day I came to tell you that I was going away for a long time -- going to prison. You stood silently, listening with your head bowed and tears in your eyes, asking why. You hugged me and ran up into the woods, to your secret fort, crying. I cried too that day, Kent. I was ashamed of myself, and of breaking your heart.
You did write me and sent the colored pictures you drew in school. I had them on my cell wall for years, and yes, I bragged about them to my friends. I have lain awake many nights wondering who was teaching you to drive, who was your first girlfriend, and how I would tease you about her, as if I were right there with you. I'm sorry for missing so much of you, Kent.
Love,
Daddy

As I stood looking at my special little boy, in a light gray coffin, I was dressed in bright orange coveralls. Prison guards were beside me. I wanted to reach out and touch him just once more, but the chains on my wrists wouldn't allow it.
It took a mortician to cover that cut on Kent's lip and get his hair to lay down. I'm so awfully sorry for missing the last eight years of Kent's life. If only I could have another chance to be the daddy he wanted me to be -- the daddy he deserved. If I could just tickle Kent's back once more, or share some secret with him, or tease him and hold him for just a few minutes. God, I would gladly die for the chance.
Kent was killed when he was crushed under a tractor in an accident near Kelso, Washington. He is buried in Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, near the only tree there. So, if you are ever near that cemetery, and see a six-foot, five-inch, two hundred and seventy-pound beat-up old man on his knees beside that grave, praying to God in shame, you will know why.
Hopefully you will better understand why I wish he could have read this letter, while he was alive. There are so many things I should have told him. So much time I should have spent with him.
If you have a special child in your life, please don't, for any reason, miss one single second with that child. Don't let what happened to me happen to you. Those moments are so awfully important.
To the lady officer, with the special little sunray catcher -- please believe me when I say, "For God's sake, spend every single precious moment with your child, now! This could be your last chance, because sometimes very special children don't get any older."

By Ken "Duke" Monse'Broten

Ken "Duke" Monse'Broten, pen name Edward Allen Lee, is a grandfather originally from Park River, North Dakota. He has written numerous articles and short stories. He just completed a book, under his pen name called Messages of the Heart. He may be contacted at #3571494, Snake River Correctional Institute, 777 Stanton Blvd., Ontario, OR 97914.

"Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul"
is NOT available in bookstores -- yet.
To receive a copy of "Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul"
autographed by co-author Tom Lagana, please send a check
for US$17.20 ($12.95 + $4.25 shipping and handling) payable to
"Tom Lagana," along with the name to autographed it to,
shipping address, and mail to:
"Prisoner's Soul" - Autographed Copy
PO Box 7816
Wilmington, DE 19803
E-mail: Success@TomLagana.com
Web site: http://www.TomLagana.com
(For shipments outside the USA, please contact Tom.)

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REQUESTS:
From: khermsen8_@hotmail.com (kaaryn hermsen)
To: Thunder27@aol.com

Dear Mike,

My ex-husband, Doug Hermsen, needs many prayers today and for quite a while.
Last May, Doug(30) had massive brain surgery, only four days after getting
married to his second wife, Kammy(22). It was a success, taking away half
of the right side of his brain, the tumor being the size of a giant melon.
He had 56 staples from ear to ear and was in a coma for over a week. All
went well, and in October, Kammy gave birth to their son, Connor. But soon
after, Doug began to feel tired again and when they went in to see, the
tumor was unexpectedly back. His chances of living 10 years was around 40%.
So radiation was needed. After two months of, from what I've heard,
complete hell from the extensive radiation treatments and the loss of all
his hair, the doctors gave him more bad news. The treatments are doing
nothing. As a matter of fact, it has spread onto the LEFT side of the brain
in two different areas: one being right behind his left eye and the other in
the back of the brain. He will indefinitely lose sight in his eye. The
doctors at Mayo clinic in Minnesota have recommended opening him up again
this summer to take out the growing tumors. But the doctors have indicated
that this might be a "non-winnable" battle. Please keep Doug, Kammy and
Connor in your prayers. Thank you very much.

God bless,
Kaaryn Hermsen
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Thought For The Day:

"It has been my observation that most people get ahead during the time that others waste." (Henry Ford)

Verse for the Day:

"The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty."
Proverbs 21:5

Kid's Thought For The Day:

"Why buy roses when daisies are free."

Parent's Thought For The Day

"Recall the aura, the ecstasy, the perfectness of your wedding day. The vows are meticulously and faultlessly repeated. A stimulating honeymoon reinforces the idealistic glow. Nothing could ever alter the thrill of this hallowed occasion.

Then comes reality. The couple soon realizes marriage is not an ongoing celebration of celestial dimensions. It's a lifelong process of down-to-earth hard work -- worth every drop of sweat it produces."

Coach's Thought For The Day:

"Those who coach must above all be able to coach themselves."

Deep Thought For The Day:

"I think animal testing is a terrible idea; they get all nervous and give the wrong
answers."

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_
/_/\/\    MICHAEL T. POWERS
\_\ /    THUNDER27@aol.com
/_/ \    "For I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but
\_\/\ \   Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live for the Son
   \_\/   of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20

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