. 1 - First Important Lesson - Cleaning Lady.
During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?" Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say "hello." I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.
2. - Second Important Lesson - Pickup in the Rain
One night, at 11:30 p.m., an elderly African-American woman was standing on the side of an Alabamahighway trying to endure a lashing rainstorm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 60s.. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance a! nd pu t her into a taxicab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man's door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached.. It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away.. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others." Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole.
3 - Third Important Lesson - Always remember those who serve.
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked. "Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. "Well, how muc h is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream,! paid th e cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies.. You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
4 - Fourth Important Lesson. - The obstacle in Our Path.
In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way. Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the s ide of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand! Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.
5 - Fifth Important Lesson - Giving When it Counts...
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery app! eared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, see ing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away". Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.
_________________
1.-Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
2.-We get too soon old und too late smart
3.-You've got to stand for something, or you'll fall for anything!
And so ends the daily lesson of life .. I thought it was worth the stealing .. oh yeh I snagged it from a friend she has some pretty good stuff to share and I thought it was worth the saveing .. hope you do to .
Showing posts with label lifes truths. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lifes truths. Show all posts
30.7.07
A beautiful story
MY SON
This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your day!
The ending will surprise you.
Take my Son
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.
He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art." The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"
There was silence.
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one."
But the auctioneer persisted. "Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"
Another voice angrily.. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!"
But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
"We have $10, who will bid $20?"
"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."
"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"
A man sitting on the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!"
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."
"What about the paintings?"
"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.
The man who took the son gets everything!"
God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE
(Author Unknown)
Please send this to people.
Do whatever you like, but remember that maybe "one" of the people you might have taken the time to send this to, may be just the person who needs to hear this message. You have a choice to make."
This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your day!
The ending will surprise you.
Take my Son
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.
He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art." The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"
There was silence.
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one."
But the auctioneer persisted. "Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"
Another voice angrily.. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!"
But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
"We have $10, who will bid $20?"
"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."
"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"
A man sitting on the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!"
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."
"What about the paintings?"
"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.
The man who took the son gets everything!"
God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE
(Author Unknown)
Please send this to people.
Do whatever you like, but remember that maybe "one" of the people you might have taken the time to send this to, may be just the person who needs to hear this message. You have a choice to make."
28.7.07
Witch at the Stake
The Burning Times
~*******~
It is always the morning of my execution........I know they will come for me today.
Last night the jailor, pulling up his trousers,
Sneered, "Perhaps you'll fancy the pole They give you in the morning more than mine, Stubborn Bitch." I think He liked it better when I had strength And spirit enough to fight him. He is too stupid to lie just to torment me. I will welcome death, though the dying scares me... I was a healer -- how long ago? Oh, Gods, I cannot think straight anymore!
And I know That their gross insults tomy body will never mend. And the pain is constant, and they have sworn me That I will go to the fire conscious and aware. My Goddess, I am sick to my very soul with shame; At the last I gave them screaming what they wanted, Mouthed any obscenity they asked, I told them What they told me to say. My sanity remains Only because Your names go with me to the pyre, And the grave beyond, and only there.
Oh, Beloved, if I could only see you One last time, that your clean spirit's fire Could rid me of this filth and fear... The crowd gathers now. I hear them outside, laughing, festive - Gods grant I will be entertaining enough - I wonder if these pious souls who in the past Have asked my help will mourn me?
Well, I shall be glad to quit this stinking cell - The rats grow bolder as I decline - Oh, Mother, give me strength! I hear the guards outside. "What," I taunt, "three of you All for one small half-starved wench? Indeed, terrible I must be!" They have the grace to look ashamed, The youngest one grows pale and horrified At the sight of me; I delivered his wife Of a fine strong son not many weeks ago, But now I dare not ask how the child fares.
"Nay, you must carry me or drag me, My fine bravos - these ruined feet will never Bear my weight again. I fear I danced too long With your good priest and his fine Spanish boots."
They haul me to my feet and the pain - I will not scream again for their amusement! I must go naked, then, to my death before these fools? I would not have them see me so, who danced Naked for the Goddess, graceful and free, On winged feet without a trace of shame.
Their avaricious eyes defile me, as their Twisted priests defiled my body's temple... There are many strangers here in the square, Churchmen and villagers from all the country round - I am to be a marvelous, far-felt lesson, I see. They bind me to their stake, too tight, more agony - The splintering pole claws my raw back, My shoulders wrenched and cramping, the rough rope Burning my wrists. My legs will not support me, And I sag in my bonds, and I fill with terror, As a pitcher with muddy water.
A priest approaches - Oh, Goddess, must I suffer them even now? The crowd protests the cup in his hands. He exhorts them gently: his sect bears mercy towards all, Malice towards none, and might not even such as I Be saved at the bitter end?
I don't know this one. I fight to raise my head, To spit in his face, for one last shred of defiance - Mother of All, no! Not you - here! How have you come, Beloved, To trade your green robes for their black, Your antlered crown for their cross? Surely I dream, I dream...
But now I smell your clean scent, And your dear presence cloaks me in peace. Rage fires in your eyes, but your pure love Sustains me, strengthens me and warms me. You brush the hair back from my face - The cup you hold gently to my bruised lips I gave you At our handfasting - softly you whisper, "Drink deep of salvation, my dear love," And your voice, harsh with unshed tears, Rips at my soul and my own tears begin, and fully Do I drink of your deep eyes and the chalice, And the taste of the flying herbs burst upon my tongue, Belladonna, aconite, dark sweet dreams...
They are coming now with the fire. Almost you linger too long, haunted eyes on mine, But as sleep steals over me I see you melt Safely into the throng.
I am drifting now; I hear my mother singing, far away - Strange, she has been dead these many years - The pain is gone. I am a little girl again - I am safe, My mother is calling me and I run gladly into her arms...
But in the room I have left behind, someone has been careless With the supper, Mother, they must turn the spit faster, For I can smell the roasting meat burning, And the dinner guests are shouting... I wake in a cold sweat, and cannot drink From the glass you bring me.
Oh, sisters, hear: Our daughters must not dream these dreams! We must defend ourselves, stand with our brothers, And make the arsonists let us be.
Oh, sisters, hear: Never again, Never again the burning.
~*******~
It is always the morning of my execution........I know they will come for me today.
Last night the jailor, pulling up his trousers,
Sneered, "Perhaps you'll fancy the pole They give you in the morning more than mine, Stubborn Bitch." I think He liked it better when I had strength And spirit enough to fight him. He is too stupid to lie just to torment me. I will welcome death, though the dying scares me... I was a healer -- how long ago? Oh, Gods, I cannot think straight anymore!
And I know That their gross insults tomy body will never mend. And the pain is constant, and they have sworn me That I will go to the fire conscious and aware. My Goddess, I am sick to my very soul with shame; At the last I gave them screaming what they wanted, Mouthed any obscenity they asked, I told them What they told me to say. My sanity remains Only because Your names go with me to the pyre, And the grave beyond, and only there.
Oh, Beloved, if I could only see you One last time, that your clean spirit's fire Could rid me of this filth and fear... The crowd gathers now. I hear them outside, laughing, festive - Gods grant I will be entertaining enough - I wonder if these pious souls who in the past Have asked my help will mourn me?
Well, I shall be glad to quit this stinking cell - The rats grow bolder as I decline - Oh, Mother, give me strength! I hear the guards outside. "What," I taunt, "three of you All for one small half-starved wench? Indeed, terrible I must be!" They have the grace to look ashamed, The youngest one grows pale and horrified At the sight of me; I delivered his wife Of a fine strong son not many weeks ago, But now I dare not ask how the child fares.
"Nay, you must carry me or drag me, My fine bravos - these ruined feet will never Bear my weight again. I fear I danced too long With your good priest and his fine Spanish boots."
They haul me to my feet and the pain - I will not scream again for their amusement! I must go naked, then, to my death before these fools? I would not have them see me so, who danced Naked for the Goddess, graceful and free, On winged feet without a trace of shame.
Their avaricious eyes defile me, as their Twisted priests defiled my body's temple... There are many strangers here in the square, Churchmen and villagers from all the country round - I am to be a marvelous, far-felt lesson, I see. They bind me to their stake, too tight, more agony - The splintering pole claws my raw back, My shoulders wrenched and cramping, the rough rope Burning my wrists. My legs will not support me, And I sag in my bonds, and I fill with terror, As a pitcher with muddy water.
A priest approaches - Oh, Goddess, must I suffer them even now? The crowd protests the cup in his hands. He exhorts them gently: his sect bears mercy towards all, Malice towards none, and might not even such as I Be saved at the bitter end?
I don't know this one. I fight to raise my head, To spit in his face, for one last shred of defiance - Mother of All, no! Not you - here! How have you come, Beloved, To trade your green robes for their black, Your antlered crown for their cross? Surely I dream, I dream...
But now I smell your clean scent, And your dear presence cloaks me in peace. Rage fires in your eyes, but your pure love Sustains me, strengthens me and warms me. You brush the hair back from my face - The cup you hold gently to my bruised lips I gave you At our handfasting - softly you whisper, "Drink deep of salvation, my dear love," And your voice, harsh with unshed tears, Rips at my soul and my own tears begin, and fully Do I drink of your deep eyes and the chalice, And the taste of the flying herbs burst upon my tongue, Belladonna, aconite, dark sweet dreams...
They are coming now with the fire. Almost you linger too long, haunted eyes on mine, But as sleep steals over me I see you melt Safely into the throng.
I am drifting now; I hear my mother singing, far away - Strange, she has been dead these many years - The pain is gone. I am a little girl again - I am safe, My mother is calling me and I run gladly into her arms...
But in the room I have left behind, someone has been careless With the supper, Mother, they must turn the spit faster, For I can smell the roasting meat burning, And the dinner guests are shouting... I wake in a cold sweat, and cannot drink From the glass you bring me.
Oh, sisters, hear: Our daughters must not dream these dreams! We must defend ourselves, stand with our brothers, And make the arsonists let us be.
Oh, sisters, hear: Never again, Never again the burning.
********
the sin of Gluttony
NEVER HEARD CREATION EXPLAINED THIS WAY BEFORE!!!
In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.
Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles."
And they gained 10 pounds.
And Satan smiled.
And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair.
And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them.
And Woman went from size 6 to size 14.
So God said, "Try my fresh green salad."
And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side.
And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.
God then said, "I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them."
And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter.
And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof. God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good."
Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food."
God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds.
And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels.
And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.
Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition.
And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them.
And Man gained pounds.
God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite.
And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, "You want fries with that?"
And Man replied, "Yes! And super size them!"
And Satan said, "It is good."
And Man went into cardiac arrest.
God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.
Then Satan created HMOs.
=======
Guess you know I am on a diet .. and not happy with my choices ..
<<>>
=========
If you don't send this to five old friends right away there will be five fewer people laughing in the world.
In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.
Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, "You want chocolate with that?" And Man said, "Yes!" and Woman said, "and as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles."
And they gained 10 pounds.
And Satan smiled.
And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair.
And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them.
And Woman went from size 6 to size 14.
So God said, "Try my fresh green salad."
And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side.
And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.
God then said, "I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them."
And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter.
And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof. God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it "Angel Food Cake," and said, "It is good."
Satan then created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food."
God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds.
And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels.
And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.
Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition.
And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them.
And Man gained pounds.
God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite.
And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, "You want fries with that?"
And Man replied, "Yes! And super size them!"
And Satan said, "It is good."
And Man went into cardiac arrest.
God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.
Then Satan created HMOs.
=======
Guess you know I am on a diet .. and not happy with my choices ..
<<>>
=========
If you don't send this to five old friends right away there will be five fewer people laughing in the world.
29.5.07
The Stranger at our house
A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger...he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies. If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.) Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but The stranger never felt obligated to honour them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home... Not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our long-time visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol. But the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked... And NEVER asked to leave. More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name?
We just call him "TV."
He has a younger sister now. We call her "Computer."
_________________
http://sezfoxie.blogspot.com/
It is not good for all our wishes to be filled; through sickness we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest.
We just call him "TV."
He has a younger sister now. We call her "Computer."
_________________
http://sezfoxie.blogspot.com/
It is not good for all our wishes to be filled; through sickness we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest.
31.3.07
The Leaf and the Wind
Leaf looked out across the broad, dawn-pink sky and down over the beautiful spring garden. The dewy breeze grazed it and left it shimmering, fluttering. As it moved, Leaf saw all the corners of the garden with its flowers, bushes, trees and animals. Leaf stretched to catch every sight and sound. It was a new leaf at the top of a very old tree. Leaf adored all the elements - wind, sun and rain. But it was in love with the wind. Wind gave it the freedom of motion. Without the breeze it would never have seen the world below or from side to side. Wind rocked Leaf to sleep and shook it awake. Wind made Leaf dance. Wind whistled haunting tunes through the branches, it whispered and sometimes it even sang. On many days, Wind told Leaf of the places it had been. "All across the Rivers and down to the sea have I been," whispered Wind. On that day, Leaf could even smell the scent of the water and salty places of which Wind spoke. "High up the mountain to the very door of Heaven today," Wind told, as the fresh clean smells settled down upon Leaf. "I have seen where the Blue-sky ends and birds cease to wing. I have heard the voice of Life itself and it is so beautiful." Leaf shuddered with the thought of having Life speak to it as it did to Wind. "When will life speak to me?" Leaf asked Wind. The breeze warmed as it blew over Leaf and Wind said softly, "You can Hear Life's voice in me." Whenever it blew past, be it a breeze or gale, the little green leaf waved a joyful greeting to Wind - like the hand of a happy child to a loved one. "I will love you for all time," Leaf whispered to the moving air around it. "I could not be happier." Hearing this promise Tree itself shook and emitted a deep chuckle. "I am glad you are happy now," the tree said. "Enjoy your youth and beauty while you can, for soon enough you will be withered and brown, dry as dust and blown away with by the same breeze that stirs your heart today." Leaf stiffened at these words. The other leaves said nothing. One or two fell like tears before their time, so stricken were they by the sadness. "That is not so!" Leaf cried. Tree shook again and said, "Oh but it is true. I have seen many, many leaves from many trees fall and crumble. Your time will come to curse the wind and the way of things. Wind is old and you are young. Ask Wind sometime." The tree said no more. Leaf tried not to think about what Tree had said. Of course it had heard the stories of how leaves grow old and die, but still it would never be hateful. That very day, Leaf made a decision. It shouted to the world, "I will Never hate Wind. I will not give in to fear or unhappiness." Still, the next time Wind came to call, Leaf could not help but ask. "When I become old, dry and brittle will you destroy me as Tree says," Leaf asked. Wind was silent for a long moment. "I will not destroy you my dear one," Wind said. "All Earthly things grow old and dry. That is not my doing." Leaf was shaking and Wind could see the fear beginning to overtake Leaf. Wind added, "Keep your promise not to give in to hate and sorrow and when the time comes for you to fall, I will be there to catch you. It will be a beginning and not and end for you." Again Leaf felt strong. "Tell me of your travels," Leaf said. Wind spoke well into the night. Time passed. Leaf grew and changed. At first it became very big and strong. Then, as the air grew chill, Leaf began to take on the most magnificent colors. First a yellow cast and then little patches of red and gold began to creep across it. "You are most beautiful today," whispered Wind. "I do not think that of all the leaves in the world there is one to match you." Leaf shook a bit, knowing full well that many of the others had also begun to change and take on different hues. Still, the words brought joy. "It is the beginning of the end for you and all your kind," Tree said. "Soon now, oh so soon, you will be nothing but a speck in the dirt." All the other leaves began to droop and some even tumbled from their homes early as the weight of that unhappy thought dragged them down to Earth. Not Leaf. "Words, words, words," Leaf laughed. "You cannot harm me with words. I choose to be happy with my fate. Others choose to be sad. The only one who will be sad when I am gone is you old tree for then who will you talk to?" Tree shook with frustration and anger. "You will see," Tree bellowed. "You will be dirt!" As days passed Leaf began to feel thin and tired. The bright colors that covered Leaf darkened to brown and Leaf knew its time grew short. Still it would not be sad because each day now Wind told Leaf of the wonderful adventures that were to come. Just seeing Leaf cling to happiness while all those around it fell made Tree angry. One day it could stand it no more and when Wind came to call, Tree shook for all it was worth and Leaf snapped away from its branch and began to fall. Tree watched and waited for Leaf to scream and cry, to realize what horror had just befallen it. Instead Tree heard the sound of laughter. One moment Leaf was held fast to Tree and the next it was falling, flipping end over end. "I am flying!" Leaf laughed in pure joy. "You are falling! Plunging," shouted Tree. "I am soaring like a little bird," Leaf sang out. "See how I go!" Leaf felt something lift it up. It was Wind come to keep its promise. "I cannot take you far right now, just to rest on the ground. No matter what happens, do not be afraid. I will return for you." Wind carried Leaf ever so gently to the ground and allowed it to rest there. Leaf could feel the rumble of the roots from Tree as it laughed and said," You see? Now you are ready to become like all the others. It is all just as I said. Just give up now." Leaf was not stirred to sadness by Tree's words. It did not answer, but lay quietly looking up at the world. It all looked so different now. After a time, Leaf nodded off to sleep and a long time passed before it woke. Instead of feeling old, stiff and papery, Leaf felt suddenly free to move about. It could hear wind singing softly through the trees and felt itself being lifted and spun higher and higher. "Did I not promise all would be well," crooned Wind. "You have become the dust of the Earth, so light and so fine that I can carry you anywhere with me." And so Wind did carry the dust of Leaf and scattered it over fields, onto the backs of birds that flew to mountains and into streams that led to oceans. Finally Wind seeded the clouds with the last few tiny grains that were once Leaf and Leaf came back to Earth with rains and snows. Everywhere it fell the remains of Leaf brought a grain of pure joy, a drop Of hope and touch of love for wind and life. One day in springtime Wind rustled past Tree and heard Tree telling all the young leaves about the Leaf that had loved the Wind and perished in the dirt. Wind came back through Tree singing a breezy tune, "Listen my children, but not to those who tell you that your fate is in the dirt. Listen to me instead. I will tell the tale of how you will become Heaven's Dust. Believe and you will never dread." If ever you wonder which leaves listen to Wind and not Tree, look up on a stormy day and see, which ones wave, a joyous greeting and which fall down in sorrow.
20.3.07
In Sand & Stone
TWO FRIENDS WERE WALKING THROUGH THE DESERT.
DURING SOME POINT OF THE JOURNEY,
THEY HAD AN ARGUMENT;
AND ONE FRIEND SLAPPED THE OTHER ONE IN THE FACE.
THE ONE WHO GOT SLAPPED WAS HURT,
BUT WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING,
WROTE IN THE SAND: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.
THEY KEPT ON WALKING, UNTIL THEY FOUND AN OASIS, WHERE THEY DECIDED TO TAKE A BATH
THE ONE WHO HAD BEEN SLAPPED GOT STUCK IN THE MIRE AND STARTED DROWNING, '
BUT THE FRIEND SAVED HIM.
AFTER HE RECOVERED FROM THE NEAR DROWNING,
HE WROTE ON A STONE: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE ".
THE FRIEND WHO HAD SLAPPED AND SAVED HIS BEST FRIEND ASKED HIM, "AFTER I HURT YOU,
YOU WROTE IN THE SAND AND NOW,
YOU WRITE ON A STONE, WHY?"
THE FRIEND REPLIED "WHEN SOMEONE HURTS US WE SHOULD WRITE IT DOWN IN SAND, WHERE WINDS OF FORGIVENESS CAN ERASE IT AWAY.
BUT, WHEN SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING GOOD FOR US,
WE MUST ENGRAVE IT IN STONE WHERE NO WIND CAN EVER ERASE IT."
LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.
THEY SAY IT TAKES A MINUTE TO FIND A SPECIAL PERSON,
AN HOUR TO APPRECIATE THEM,
A DAY TO LOVE THEM,
BUT THEN AN ENTIRE LIFE TO FORGET THEM.
SEND THIS PHRASE TO THE PEOPLE YOU'LL NEVER FORGET.
I JUST DID.
IF YOU DON'T SEND IT TO ANYONE, IT MEANS YOU'RE IN A HURRY AND THAT YOU'VE FORGOTTEN YOUR FRIENDS.
TAKE THE TIME TO LIVE!
DO NOT VALUE THE THINGS YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE, BUT VALUE WHO YOU HAVE IN YOUR LIFE !
AND IF I HAPPEN TO GET IT BACK,
THEN I KNOW MY PLACE IN YOUR LIFE
~*~
"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know whats inside until you take a bite"
* Forrests Gumps momma
So it is with friendships whether we make them on line or off.. I thought the story was a wonderful thing to share this morning and of course the quote from Mama Gump.. Na Not in a personal sharing mode today .. to busy packing up my house and getting ready for the move to a bigger place.. sheesh gotta go buy curtain rods for those windows, at least I don't have to paint its all done and everything looks nice and fresh. gonna be fun blending styles .. transitional modern with old victorian . I gotta go make a pot of coffee and get started this morning.. you all have a great day inn life hear? :: hands out a small chisel and a hammer for the stone work ahead::
make it a good one folks
/\
Foxie
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