Verses

The blog for Project Meet Me Halfway

Tag: Walk To Beautiful

I Love You This Much

I Love You This Much CocaCola Bottle

I was lying on an army cot I’d found in my uncle’s scrap pile in his backyard. A light from the church across the dirt road shined through the abandoned trailer’s window. I stared at my breath and asked, “Why, God? Why are you doing this to me?”

The abandoned trailer belonged to my grandpa before he went to the old folks’ home. Now, it had no electricity, heat, or running water, and I was living in it. I was a homeless 14-year-old and I had no hope.

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The Result of One Small Deed

Coca-Cola logowtb-bookCoca-Cola is the largest brand in the world and it is supporting my New York Times bestseller, Walk To Beautiful. This is the first time in the history of publishing that a book title has been promoted by a major consumer packaged goods company.

Hopefully you’ve seen the Coca-Cola display with my book on top of it in your favorite grocery store. And I sincerely hope you will purchase a six-pack of bottled Coca-Cola and my book Walk To Beautiful that recently reached the New York Times list for the third time within one year!

In 1989, seventy-five-year-old Bea Costner befriended me with an ice cold Coca-Cola. I was sixteen years old and homeless. I was Bea’s lawn-boy and every week she’d give me a Coke when I cut her grass. Toward the end of the summer, she asked me if I’d be interested in moving into her and her husband Russell’s home. This changed my life forever. I was allowed to go back to high-school, go to college, and pursue my dream of writing and performing music—and it all started with a Coca-Cola.
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Happy Thanks-receiving & Thanks-giving Day

Bea and Jimmy

Every time I open my refrigerator and reach into the top drawer and remove that red and white glass bottle of Coca-Cola it takes me back to a time when a 75-year-old woman named Bea handed me an ice cold Coca-Cola over the fence every week when I cut her grass.

It was 1989, the same year the Berlin wall fell. I was 16 years old and homeless. My walls were up to say the least. I didn’t trust anyone. I just wanted to work, earn money and buy food. I wasn’t about to let my guard down and wouldn’t get close to anyone.

Week after week Bea handed me an ice cold Coca-Cola over the fence and we would talk. Or I should say, she would talk. She’d talk about simple things like the weather or her wood-working business or the job I was doing. Little by little those walls around me began to crumble.

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