When I was growing up we had a phone that hung on the wall, there was a crank on the right side which we turned to call the operator. The receiver hung on the left side of the box. I recently was at my nephew’s home and saw the old phone from my home. Then I recalled a story I read …

A little boy used the old phone like ours and dis­covered that somewhere inside the box lived an amazing person. Her name was Information Please and there was nothing she did not know. She could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.

He said – My personal experience came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information Please,” I said into the mouthpiece. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. “Information, I hurt my finger.” I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question. “Nobody’s home but me,” I said. “Are you bleeding?” the voice asked. “No, but I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.” “Can you open the icebox?” she asked. I said I could. “Chip off a little bit of ice and hold it on your finger.”

After that, I called Information Please for every­thing. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called Information Please and told her the sad story. She listened, but I was not con­soled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?” She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.” Somehow I felt better. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country. I missed my friend very much. Information Please belonged in that old wooden box. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood con­versations never really left me. I appreciated how patient, understanding, and kind she was to me.

Later, on my way to college, my plane landed in Seattle. So I spent 15 minutes on the phone with my sister. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.” I heard the voice I knew so well. “So it’s really you, I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me?” “I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. “Yes, and just ask for Sally.” Three months later I was back in town. A different voice answered. I asked for Sally. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, she died five weeks ago. Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?” “Yes.” I answered. “Well, Sally left a message for you, let me read it to you.” The note said, “Tell him there are other worlds to sing in, he’ll know what I mean.” I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched? Be a blessing to someone today.