Elevator Rides

When my brother was but a youngster, he was terrified of elevators. He hated the enclosed space. I can't remember the number of times we were forced to take the steps because of him. (It was probably healthier for us, but very annoying when you are in a big place)
When he was 12 or so, I had to have my appendix out. As you may have guessed by now from my previous posts, my brother is pretty hyperactive. (I pick on him saying that God called him to preach because he can hardly sit still in church)
Anyway, there was no way he was sitting still during surgery. So my sister took him down to the cafeteria with her. Now the steps weren't near the waiting room, so she made him take the elevator. I'm told it took some convincing to get him to ride it.
But once he got on the elevator once, he learned that he loved it. So the rest of the time that I was in surgery, he spent riding up and down the elevator taking people to their floors. Really, he'd have been a great bellboy.
As a matter of fact, when I got out of surgery, and they told him to come see me, they had to drag him off the elevator. (I felt so loved!) So when Ben came into the room, I got to hear about how fun an elevator was.
The moral of this story? Be willing to take a risk. You may learn that you love something that you hated. Or at the very least, your family will have something to laugh about later on down the road!