My first day of recess
They all laughed at me
When I fell off the swing set
And scraped up my knee
The nurse called my Momma
To say I'd be late
And when she gave me the phone
I could hear Momma say
I'm so sorry son
Oh I think you're so brave
And she was smiling when she said
When you come home
No matter how far
Run through the door and into my arms
It's where you are loved
It's where you belong
And I will be here
When you come home
(When you come home written by Mark Schultz)
I was but a newbie when you took me under your wings.
You remained at hand when I was out of the industry, out of a job. Encouraging, connecting, guiding.
When I came to the end of the road, you said, "You can take the dealer out of the market, but you can't take the market out of the dealer."
Your words rekindled the dying flames of belief in my heart. When the same door opened a second time, I resumed my seat at the desk.
Three years and six months on, I move forward with the surety and confidence that dealing is in my blood. The late Ayrton Senna believed that racing was in his blood. He knew what it meant to be one with the car, to live and breathe racing. To be the best that he could be. I read that when he was racing, sometimes he would transcend the physical realm. When he would lose himself behind the steering wheel and be one with the car.
Ma'am, thank you for your guiding hands. You have shown me that it is possible to have a big heart above the materialism and hypocrisy prevalent in the industry. Joshua stayed close to Moses. Paul built up Timothy. Barnabas did not give up on John Mark. And you kept an eye out for this stubborn mule.
Xiao Guo ",+
12/05/2008 07:52
