AA Thought for the Day

February 27, 2009

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Beginnings

Dear Gentle Reader,
It is with deep regret we must inform you we are no longer permitted to share Alcoholics Anonymous World Services (AAWS) copyrighted material with you. We will continue to send recovery-related messages, but will no longer quote from A.A. Conference Approved sources. Thank you for your understanding, patience, and tolerance.
In loving service and fellowship,
joanna b


Thought to Ponder....

Sobriety is the adventure of a lifetime.
And it begins the moment we ask AA for help.
Anonymous


Recovery Related Acronym

Coffee Pot

A B C = Ashtrays, Brooms, Coffee.


A Member Shares...

Hi All! I'm Candy, a grateful recovering alcoholic.

I don't take the word "grateful" lightly. In essence, what I've seen, and what I've read in As Bill Sees It, page 298, is exactly what we're talking about here. Gratitude makes me think of when I first got sober. I was a DWI (Drunk Without Insurance), so I couldn't go to treatment. My treatment center was an AA clubhouse in downtown Nashville. A lady there managed the coffee counter. Mrs. Faye was an ex-junkie and a former owner of a brothel back in the 60's. She had bleached blonde hair piled up on her head, and was a "buxom" woman, a kind of a modern day May West type. You get the picture. I was 21, and I'd show up at around 7:30 AM just as she was opening the doors and had the first pot of coffee brewed. I'd come in with the "DRAMA OF THE DAY" and proceed to spill my heart to Mrs. Faye. She'd pull up a stool, hand me a cup of coffee, look at me very compassionately and nod with her wise eyes and gentle face. Then when I finished my story, she'd go back to the stock room, get the furniture polish and a dust rag, and have me polish the furniture in the clubhouse. I didn't understand what she was doing. But by gosh! That furniture sure shined when I was sobering up, and I felt a healthy sense of pride. This clubhouse, all its meetings, and all the crusty old codgers who hung out there, saved my life. In 1996, they needed a new coffee counter manager, and I was offered the position. I'd get there at seven, put on the coffee, start my day, and inevitably, a newcomer would walk in with the "DRAMA OF THE DAY." I'd hand 'em a cup of coffee, pull up a stool, and you know the rest of the story. Mrs. Faye passed away, and I was grateful to be able to carry on her "legacy" . to pass on what she gave to me even with only days sober. I could still polish the heck out of that furniture. So I'll end by saying, if you're miserable, do something different. Nothing insures immunity from drinking as working with another alcoholic. Thanks!

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