Rose for Mother

Rose for Mother

A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away. As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing. He asked her what was wrong and she replied, “I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars.”
The man smiled and said, “Come on in with me. I’ll buy you a rose.” He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother’s flowers. As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home. She said, “Yes, please! You can take me to my mother.” She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.
The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother’s house.
Moral: Life is Short. Spend much time as you can loving and caring people who love you. Enjoy each moment with them before it’s too late. There is nothing important than family.

For those who mourn the loss of a loved one:

For those who mourn the loss of a loved one:

Dear God,
there’s an empty chair at our table,
an ache in our hearts
and tears upon our faces…

We try to shield one another from our grief
but we cannot hide it from you…

We pray for…
(name your loved one)
whose presence we miss in these homecoming days…

Open our eyes and our hearts to the healing, the warmth
and the peace of your presence…

Assure us that those we miss
have a home in your heart as well as in ours
and a place at your table forever…

Open our hearts to joyful memories of the love we shared
with those who have gone before us…

Help us tell the stories that bring us close to one another
and to the ones we miss so much…

Teach us to lean on you and on each other
for the strength we need
to walk through difficult times…

Give us quiet moments with you, with our thoughts,
with our memories and our prayers…

And in the stillness of the quiet,
give us your consolation and your peace…

Be with us and hold us in your arms
as you hold the ones we miss…

This is the day you have made, O Lord:
help us rejoice and be glad in the peace you’ve promised
and share with those who’ve gone before us…
Amen.

The Lost Watch

The Lost Watch

Once there was a farmer who discovered that he had lost his watch in the barn. It was not an ordinary watch because it had sentimental value for him.

After searching high and low among the hay for a long while; he gave up and enlisted the help of a group of children playing outside the barn. He promised them that, the person who found it, would be rewarded. Hearing this, the children hurried inside the barn, went through and around the entire stack of hay but still could not find the watch.

Just when the farmer was about to give up looking for his watch, a little boy went up to him and asked to be given another chance. The farmer looked at him and thought, “Why not.? After all, this kid looks sincere enough.” So the farmer sent the little boy back in the barn.

After a while the little boy came out with the watch in his hand.

The farmer was both happy and surprised and so he asked the boy how he succeeded where the rest had failed. The boy replied, “I did nothing but sit on the ground and listen. In the silence, I heard the ticking of the watch and just looked for it in that direction.”

Moral: A Peaceful mind can think better than a worked up mind. Allow a few minutes of silence to your mind every day and see, how sharply it helps you to set your life the way you expect it to be!

The soul always knows what to do to heal itself!

The challenge is to silence the mind...!

Sharing is good

Sharing is good

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same
hospital room.

One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an
hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from
his lungs.

His bed was next to the room's only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on
his back.

The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their
homes, their jobs, their involvement in the
military service, where they had been on
vacation..

Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the
window could sit up, he would pass the time by
describing to his roommate all the things he could
see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those
one hour periods where his world would be
broadened and enlivened by all the activity and
colour of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.Ducks and swans played on the water while
children sailed their model boats. Young lovers
walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour
and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen
in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in
exquisite details, the man on the other side of
the room would close his eyes and imagine this
picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window
described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band -
he could see it in his mind's eye as the
gentleman by the window portrayed it with
descriptive words.

Days, weeks and months passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring
water for their baths only to find the lifeless body
of the man by the window, who had died
peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital
attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man
asked if he could be moved next to the window.
The nurse was happy to make the switch, and
after making sure he was comfortable, she left
him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one
elbow to take his first look at the real world
outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window
besides the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have
compelled his deceased roommate who had
described such wonderful things outside this
window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and
could not even see the wall.

She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage
you.'

Epilogue:
There is tremendous happiness in making others
happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness
when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things
you have that money can't buy.
'Today is a gift, that is why it is called The
Present .'

WAS SHE A TEACHER OR MOTHER

WAS SHE A TEACHER OR MOTHER

There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.

But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn’t play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then putting a big “F” at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s past records and she put Teddy’s off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy’s first grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around.”

His second grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.”

His third grade teacher wrote, “His mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn’t show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken.”

Teddy’s fourth grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class.”

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy’s. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.

Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children’s laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.

Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.” After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.

Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her “teacher’s pets.”

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer—the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.

The story doesn’t end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he’d met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson’s ear, “Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.” Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, “Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn’t know how to teach until I met you.”

Rich Dad, poor Dad

Rich Dad, poor Dad

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people can be. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son,
“How was the trip?”
“It was great, Dad.”
“Did you see how poor people can be?” the father asked.
“Oh Yeah” said the son.
“So what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.
The son answered,
“I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a river that has no end. We have imported artificial lighting in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon. We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they help to serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”
With this the boy’s father was speechless. Then his son added, “Thanks dad for showing me how poor we are.”
Too many times we forget what we have and concentrate on what we don’t have. What is one person’s worthless object is another’s prize possession. It is all based on one’s perspective. Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for all the bounty we have, instead of worrying about wanting more.

Birthday Gift

Birthday Gift

I was walking around in a Big Bazaar store making shopping, when I saw
a Cashier talking to a boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years
old..

The Cashier said, 'I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy
this doll. Then the little boy turned to me and asked: ''Uncle, are
you sure I don't have enough money?''

I counted his cash and replied: ''You know that you don't have enough
money to buy the doll, my dear.'' The little boy was still holding the
doll in his hand.

Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give
this doll to. 'It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so
much . I wanted to Gift her for her BIRTHDAY.

I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my
sister when she goes there.' His eyes were so sad while saying this.
'My Sister has gone to be with God.. Daddy says that Mommy is going to
see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with
her to give it to my sister...''

My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said: 'I
told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I
come back from the mall.' Then he showed me a very nice photo of him
where he was laughing. He then told me 'I want mommy to take my
picture with her so my sister won't forget me.' 'I love my mommy and I
wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go
to be with my little sister.' Then he looked again at the doll with
sad eyes, very quietly..

I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. 'Suppose we check
again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''

'OK' he said, 'I hope I do have enough.' I added some of my money to
his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough
for the doll and even some spare money.

The little boy said: 'Thank you God for giving me enough money!'

Then he looked at me and added, 'I asked last night before I went to
sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so
that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!'' 'I also wanted
to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't
dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll
and a white rose. My mommy loves white roses.'

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I
started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I
remembered a local

news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a
truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The
little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical
state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the
life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to
recover from the coma. Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news
paper that the young woman had passed away.. I couldn't stop myself as
I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where
the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make
last wishes before her burial. She was there, in her coffin, holding a
beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and
the doll placed over her chest. I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling
that my life had been changed for ever...

The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is
still, to this day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a
drunk driver had taken all this away from him.

Please DO NOT DRINK & DRIVE.

The value of a man or woman resides in what he or she gives, not in
what they are capable of receiving.

Why do people shout in anger ?

Why do people shout in anger.?

A Hindu saint, who was visiting river Ganges to take a bath, found a group of family members on the banks, shouting in anger at each other. He turned to his disciples smiled and asked.

“Why do people shout in anger shout at each other?”

The disciples thought for a while, one of them said, “Because we lose our calm, we shout.” “But, why should you shout when the other person is just next to you? You can as well tell him what you have to say in a soft manner,” asked the saint. The disciples gave some other answers, but none satisfied the other disciples.

Finally the saint explained…

“When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other to cover that great distance. What happens when two people fall in love? They don’t shout at each other but talk softly, because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is either nonexistent or very small…” The saint continued, “When they love each other even more, what happens? They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love. Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that’s all. That is how close two people are when they love each other.” He looked at his disciples and said. “So when you argue do not let your hearts get distant, Do not say words that distance each other more, Or else there will come a day when the distance is so great that you will not find the path to return.”

'LOVE YOU DAD'.

'LOVE YOU DAD'.

While a man was polishing his new car, his 6 yr old son picked up a stone and scratched lines on the side of the car. In anger, the man took the child's hand and hit it many times; not realizing he was using a wrench.

At the hospital, the child lost all his fingers due to multiple fractures. When the child saw his father.....with painful eyes he asked, 'Dad when will my fingers grow back?' The man was so hurt and speechless; he went back to his car and kicked it a lot of times. Devastated by his own actions.......sitting in front of that car he looked at the scratches; the child had written
'LOVE YOU DAD'.

The next day that man committed suicide. . .

Anger and Love have no limits; choose the latter to have a beautiful, lovely life..... Things are to be used and people are to be loved. But the problem in today's world is that, People are used and things are loved....Let's be careful to keep this thought in mind: Things are to be used, but People are to be loved.

Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits they become character;Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

I'm glad a friend forwarded this to me as a reminder. God bless you. If you don't share this on nothing bad will happen; if you do, you might change someones life

The Suspended Coffee

The Suspended Coffee

This story will warm you better than a coffee on a cold winter day:

"We enter a little coffeehouse with a friend of mine and give our order. While we're approaching our table two people come in and they go to the counter:

'Five coffees, please. Two of them for us and three suspended'

They pay for their order, take the two and leave. I ask my friend:

'What are those 'suspended' coffees?'

'Wait for it and you will see.'

Some more people enter. Two girls ask for one coffee each, pay and go. The next order was for seven coffees and it was made by three lawyers — three for them and four 'suspended'. While I still wonder what's the deal with those 'suspended' coffees I enjoy the sunny weather and the beautiful view towards the square in front of the café. Suddenly a man dressed in shabby clothes who looks like a beggar comes in through the door and kindly asks 'Do you have a suspended coffee?'

It's simple — people pay in advance for a coffee meant for someone who can not afford a warm beverage. The tradition with the suspended coffees started in Naples, but it has spread all over the world and in some places you can order not only a suspended coffee, but also a sandwich or a whole meal.

MARRIED OR NOT, YOU SHOULD READ THIS...

MARRIED OR NOT, YOU SHOULD READ THIS...

“When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?
I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.
My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office…. jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind…I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart. Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I’ll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed -dead. My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce.— At least, in the eyes of our son—- I’m a loving husband….

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves.

So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. If you are not in a relationship now, remember this for the second (or third) time around. It's never too late.

If you do, you just might save a marriage. Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

"I WISH YOU ENOUGH"

"I WISH YOU ENOUGH"

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said:

"I love you and I wish you enough."

The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left.

The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry.

I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?"

"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.

When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"

She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.

"When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory,

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.

I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."

She then began to cry and walked away.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.

Please Share this with your friends. It has the potential to inspire a lot of people.

Be Blessed Of Divine Light.

The Carpenter

The Carpenter

A highly skilled carpenter who had grown old was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire.

The employer was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter agreed to this proposal but made sure that this will be his last project. Being in a mood to retire, the carpenter was not paying much attention to building this house. His heart was not in his work. He resorted to poor workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the job was done, the carpenter called his employer and showed him the house. The employer handed over some papers and the front door key to the carpenter and said "This is your house, my gift to you."

The carpenter was in a shock! What a shame! If he had only known that he was building his own house, he would have made it better than any other house that he ever built!

Our situation can be compared to this carpenter. God has sent us to this world to build our homes in paradise by obeying His commands. Now, we have to decide how well we wish to build the homes where we will live forever.

Puppies For Sale

Puppies For Sale

A store owner was tacking a sign above his door that read "Puppies For Sale." Signs like that have a way of attracting small children, and sure enough, a little boy appeared under the store owner's sign. "How much are you going to sell the puppies for?" he asked.
The store owner replied, "Anywhere from $30 to $50."
The little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out some change. "I have $2.37," he said. "Can I please look at them?"
The store owner smiled and whistled and out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his store followed by five teeny, tiny balls of fur.
One puppy was lagging considerably behind. Immediately the little boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said, "What's wrong with that little dog?"
The store owner explained that the veterinarian had examined the little puppy and had discovered it didn't have a hip socket. It would always limp. It would always be lame.
The little boy became excited. "That is the puppy that I want to buy."
The store owner said, "No, you don't want to buy that little dog. If you really want him, I'll just give him to you."
The little boy got quite upset. He looked straight into the store owner's eyes, pointing his finger, and said, "I don't want you to give him to me. That little dog is worth every bit as much as all the other dogs and I'll pay full price. In fact, I'll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a month until I have him paid for."
The store owner countered, "You really don't want to buy this little dog. He is never going to be able to run and jump and play with you like the other puppies."
To his surprise, the little boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the store owner and softly replied, "Well, I don't run so well myself, and the little puppy will need someone who understands!"
We ALL need is someone who understands us!!!

Two pots

Two Pots

An elderly asian woman had two large pots, each hung on the end of a pole, which she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For two years, this went on daily with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. The poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman: “I am ashamed of myself because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way to your house.”

The old woman smiled, “Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side?”

“That’s because I have always known about your flaw so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.”

Moral: Like the pots, we all have our own unique flaws. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding

The Three Dolls.. !

The Three Dolls.. !

A sage presented a prince with a set of three small dolls. The prince was not amused.

“Am I a girl that you give me dolls?” – He asked.

“This is a gift for a future king,” Said the sage. “If you look carefully, you’ll see a hole in the ear of each doll.”

The sage handed him a piece of string. “Pass it through each doll.” – He said.

Intrigued, the prince picked up the first doll and put the string into the ear. It came out from the other ear. “This is one type of person,” said the sage, “whatever you tell him, comes out from the other ear. He doesn’t retain anything.”

The prince put the string into the second doll. It came out from the mouth. “This is the second type of person,” said the sage, “whatever you tell him, he tells everybody else.”

The prince picked up the third doll and repeated the process. The string did not come out. “This is the third type of person,” said the sage, “whatever you tell him is locked up within him. It never comes out.”

“What is the best type of person?” – Asked the prince.

The sage handed him a fourth doll, in answer. When the prince put the string into the doll, it came out from the other ear.

“Do it again.” – Said the sage.

The prince repeated the process. This time the string came out from the mouth. When he put the string in a third time, it did not come out at all.

“This is the best type of person,” said the sage. “To be trustworthy, a man must know when not to listen, when to remain silent and when to speak out.”

Respect your parents

Respect your parents

An 80 year old man was sitting on the sofa in his house along with his 45 years old highly educated son. Suddenly a crow perched on their window.

The Father asked his Son, “What is this?” The Son replied “It is a crow”. After a few minutes, the Father asked his Son the 2nd time, “What is this?” The Son said “Father, I have just now told you “It’s a crow”. After a little while, the old Father again asked his Son the 3rd time, What is this?” At this time some expression of irritation was felt in the Son’s tone when he said to his Father with a rebuff. “It’s a crow, a crow”. A little after, the Father again asked his Son the 4th time, “What is
this?”

This time the Son shouted at his Father, “Why do you keep asking me the same question again and again, although I have told you so many times ‘IT IS A CROW’. Are you not able to understand this?”

A little later the Father went to his room and came back with an old tattered diary, which he had maintained since his Son was born. On opening a page, he asked his Son to read that page. When the son read it, the following words were written in the diary :-

“Today my little son aged three was sitting with me on the sofa, when a crow was sitting on the window. My Son asked me 23 times what it was, and I replied to him all 23 times that it was a Crow. I hugged him lovingly each time he asked me the same question again and again for 23 times. I did not at all feel irritated I rather felt affection for my innocent child”.

While the little child asked him 23 times “What is this”, the Father had felt no irritation in replying to the same question all 23 times and when today the Father asked his Son the same question just 4 times, the Son felt irritated and annoyed.

So..

If your parents attain old age, do not....repulse them or look at them as a burden, but speak them with gracious word ,be cool ,obedient humble and kind of them.Be considerate to u r parents . From today say this aloud, "I want to see my parents happy forever .They have cared me for me ever since i was a little child. they have always showered their selfish love on me.

They crossed all mountains and valley without seeing the storm and heat me to make a person presentable in the society today ". say a prayer to god " I will serve my old parents in the best way " .I will say all good and kind words to my dear parents ,no matter how they behave.....

ARE YOU HAPPY?

ARE YOU HAPPY?

We are all searching for happiness. In achieving this happiness our attitude in life plays a crucial role.

After years of hard and dedicated service to his Company, Ahmed was being appointed at an elegant reception as the new Director. It was a small function where his wife Fatimah, a Home Executive, and some of the wives of the other persons in top management were also present.

In an adjacent room, Ann, the wife of the CEO of the Company, asked Ahmed's wife a very odd an usual question; "Does your husband make you happy?"

The husband, Ahmed, who at that moment was not at her side, but was sufficiently near to hear the question, paid attention to the conversation, sitting up slightly, feeling secure, even filling his chest lightly in pride and hope, would definitely not publically lower or degrade her husband, would answer affirmatively, since she had always been there for him during their marriage and generally in life. Nevertheless, to both his and the others' surprise, she replied simply;

"No, no he doesn't make me happy…"

The room became uncomfortably silent, as if everyone were listening to the spouse's response. There was a sudden coldness in the air. The husband was petrified. A frown appeared on his face. He couldn't believe what his wife was saying, especially at such an important occasion for him. To the amazement of her husband and of everyone!

Fatimah sat up firmly and explained in a modest but stern tone to the other wives who were present;

"No, he doesn't make me happy… I AM HAPPY. The fact that I am happy or not doesn't depend on him, but on me. GOD has granted each of us intellect and discretion to reason, interpret and decide. GOD made me the person upon which my happiness depends. I make the choice to be happy in each situation and in each moment of my life. If my happiness were to depend on other people, on other things or circumstances on the face of this earth, I would be in serious trouble! Over my life I have learned a couple of things: I decide to be happy and the rest is a matter of 'experiences or circumstances;' like helping, and understanding, accepting, listening, consoling; and with my spouse, I have lived and practiced this many times. Honestly true happiness lies in being content"

Relieved and reassured, a smile was clearly noticed on Ahmed's face.

Moral: Happiness will always be found in contentment, forgiveness and in loving yourself and others. To truly love is difficult, it is to forgive unconditionally, to live, to take the "experiences or circumstances" as they are, facing them together and being happy with conviction. There are those who say I cannot be happy :

· Because I am sick.
· Because I have no money.
· Because it's too cold.
· Because they insulted me.
· Because someone stopped loving me.
· Because someone didn't appreciate me.

But what you don't know is that you can be happy even though you are sick, whether it is too hot, whether you have money or not, whether someone has insulted you, or someone didn't love you, or hasn't valued you.

Being Happy is an attitude about life and each one of us must decide!

Being Happy, depends on you!

How to change our Meaningless Life to Meaningful Life

How to change our Meaningless Life to Meaningful Life

This story is about a beautiful, expensively dressed lady who complained to her psychiatrist that she felt that her whole life was empty, it had no meaning. So, the lady went to visit a counselor to seek out happiness. The counselor called over the old lady who cleaned the office floors. The counselor then said to the rich lady "I'm going to ask Mary here to tell you how she found happiness.
All I want you to do is listen to her." So the old lady put down her broom and sat on a chair and told her story: "Well, my husband died of malaria and three months later my only son was killed by a car. I had nobody... I had nothing left. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I never smiled at anyone, I even thought of taking my own life.
Then one evening A LITTLE KITTEN FOLLOWED me home from work. Somehow I felt sorry for that kitten. It was cold outside, so I decided to let the kitten in. I got it some milk, and the kitten licked the plate clean. Then it purred and rubbed against my leg and for the first time in months, I smiled.
Then I stopped to think, if helping a little kitten could make me smile, maybe doing something for people could make me happy. So the next day I baked some biscuits and took them to a neighbor who was sick in bed. Every day I tried to do something nice for someone. It made me so happy to see them happy. Today, I don't know of anybody who sleeps and eats better than I do. I've found happiness, by giving it to others." When she heard that the rich lady cried. She had everything that money could buy, but she had lost the things which money cannot buy.
"The beauty of life does not depend on how happy you are; Rather it depends on how happy others can be because of you.

The Last Interview

The Last Interview

One young man went to apply for a managerial position in a big company. He passed the initial interview, and now would meet the director for the final interview.
The director discovered from his CV that the youth's academic achievements were excellent. He asked, "Did you obtain any scholarships in school?" the youth answered "no".
" Was it your father who paid for your school fees?"
"My father passed away when I was one year old, it was my mother who paid for my school fees.” he replied.
" Where did your mother work?"
"My mother worked as clothes cleaner.”
The director requested the youth to show his hands. The youth showed a pair of hands that were smooth and perfect.
" Have you ever helped your mother wash the clothes before?"
"Never, my mother always wanted me to study and read more books. Besides, my mother can wash clothes faster than me.
The director said, "I have a request. When you go home today, go and clean your mother's hands, and then see me tomorrow morning.
The youth felt that his chance of landing the job was high. When he went back home, he asked his mother to let him clean her hands. His mother felt strange, happy but with mixed feelings, she showed her hands to her son.
The youth cleaned his mother's hands slowly. His tear fell as he did that. It was the first time he noticed that his mother's hands were so wrinkled, and there were so many bruises in her hands. Some bruises were so painful that his mother winced when he touched it.
This was the first time the youth realized that it was this pair of hands that washed the clothes everyday to enable him to pay the school fees. The bruises in the mother's hands were the price that the mother had to pay for his education, his school activities and his future.
After cleaning his mother hands, the youth quietly washed all the remaining clothes for his mother.
That night, mother and son talked for a very long time.
Next morning, the youth went to the director's office.
The Director noticed the tears in the youth's eyes, when he asked: "Can you tell me what have you done and learned yesterday in your house?"
The youth answered," I cleaned my mother's hand, and also finished cleaning all the remaining clothes'
“I know now what appreciation is. Without my mother, I would not be who I am today. By helping my mother, only now do I realize how difficult and tough it is to get something done on your own. And I have come to appreciate the importance and value of helping one’s family.
The director said, "This is what I am looking for in a manager. I want to recruit a person who can appreciate the help of others, a person who knows the sufferings of others to get things done, and a person who would not put money as his only goal in life.”
“You are hired.”
This young person worked very hard, and received the respect of his subordinates. Every employee worked diligently and worked as a team. The company's performance improved tremendously.
A child, who has been protected and habitually given whatever he wanted, would develop an "entitlement mentality" and would always put himself first. He would be ignorant of his parent's efforts. When he starts work, he assumes that every person must listen to him, and when he becomes a manager, he would never know the sufferings of his employees and would always blame others. For this kind of people, who may be good academically, they may be successful for a while, but eventually they would not feel a sense of achievement. They will grumble and be full of hatred and fight for more. If we are this kind of protective parents, are we really showing love or are we destroying our children instead?
You can let your child live in a big house, eat a good meal, learn piano, watch on a big screen TV. But when you are cutting grass, please let them experience it. After a meal, let them wash their plates and bowls together with their brothers and sisters. It is not because you do not have money to hire a maid, but it is because you want to love them in a right way. You want them to understand & learn to appreciate the true value of human relationships.

The Lost Wallet

The Lost Wallet

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline–1924. The letter had been written almost 60 years ago.

It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a “Dear John” letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him anymore because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.

“Operator,” I began, “this is an unusual request. I’m trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?”

She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, “Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can’t give you the number.” She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me.

I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. “I have a party who will speak with you.”

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, “Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!”

“Would you know where that family could be located now?” I asked.

“I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,” the woman said. “Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.”

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, “Yes, Hannah is staying with us.”

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. “Well,” he said hesitatingly, “if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.”

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired oldtimer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, “Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.”

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, “I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.”

“Yes,” she continued. “Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And,” she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, “tell him I still love him. You know,” she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, “I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael…”

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, “Was the old lady able to help you?”

I told him she had given me a lead. “At least I have a last name. But I think I’ll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.”

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, “Hey, wait a minute! That’s Mr. Goldstein’s wallet. I’d know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He’s always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times.”

“Who’s Mr. Goldstein?” I asked as my hand began to shake.

“He’s one of the oldtimers on the 8th floor. That’s Mike Goldstein’s wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.” I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse’s office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, “I think he’s still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He’s a darling old man.”

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, “Oh, it is missing!”

“This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?”

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, “Yes, that’s it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.”

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. “You read that letter?”

“Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.”

He suddenly grew pale. “Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,” he begged.

“She’s fine…just as pretty as when you knew her.” I said softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, “Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.” He grabbed my hand and said, “You know something, Mister? I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I’ve always loved her.”

“Mr. Goldstein,” I said, “Come with me.”

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

“Hannah,” she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. “Do you know this man?”

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn’t say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, “Hannah, it’s Michael. Do you remember me?”

She gasped, “Michael! I don’t believe it! Michael! It’s you! My Michael!” He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

“See,” I said. “See how the Good Lord works! If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. “Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!”

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

"LUNCH WITH GOD"

"LUNCH WITH GOD"

A little boy wanted to meet God.

He packed his suitcase with two sets of his dress and some packets of Cakes and he started his journey.

He walked a long and felt tired.

So he sat in a park on the way and opened a packet to take a cake to eat.

Then he noticed an old woman sitting sad with hunger nearby, so he offered her a piece of cake.

She gratefully accepted it with a wide look and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy longed to see it again. After some time he offered her another piece of cake.

Again, she accepted it and smiled at him.

The boy was delighted!

They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

While it grew dark, the boy was frightened and he got up to leave but before he had gone more than a few steps, he ran back and gave her a hug and she kissed him with her prettiest smile.
When the boy opened the door,his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you look so happy?"

He replied, "I had lunch with God."

Before his mother could respond, he added,

"You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen in my life!"

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home.

Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked,
"Mom, what did you do today that made you so happy?
"She replied, "I ate cakes in the park with God."

Before her son responded, she added,"You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of
a touch,
a smile,
a kind word,
a listening ear,
an honest compliment,
or the smallest act of caring,

all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

Remember, nobody knows how God will look like.

People come into our lives for a reason,
for a season,
or for a lifetime.

Accept all of them equally!

AND LET THEM SEE GOD IN YOU!!!