WISE THOUGHTS

Give God what's right, not what's left!

A lot of kneeling will keep you in good standing.

We're too blessed to be depressed!

DON'T put a question mark where God put a period.

Eternity: Smoking or Non-Smoking?

God grades on The Cross, not on a the curve.

Prayer -- Don't give God instructions - simply report for duty!

God doesn't want shares of your life, He wants controlling interest!

Don't wait for six strong men to take you to church.

We don't change the message, the MESSAGE CHANGES US!

When God ordains, He SUSTAINS!

WARNING: Exposure to the SON will prevent burning!

Most people want to serve God -- but only in an advisory capacity.

Exercise daily -- walk with the Lord!

Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous.

Wisdom has two parts: 1) Having a lot to say. 2) Not saying it.

Never give the devil a ride! He always wants to drive!

Watch your step carefully! Everyone else does!

A clean conscience makes a soft pillow.

Kindness is difficult to give away because it keeps coming back.

He who angers you controls you!

God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called!

Worry is the darkroom in which "negatives" are developed!

Forbidden fruit creates many jams.

Be ye fishers of men, you catch them -- He will clean them.

Deciding not to choose is still making a choice.

If God is your co-pilot it's time to swap seats!

Little Shadows

I saw a young mother
With eyes full of laughter
And two little shadows
Came following after.

Wherever she moved,
They were always right there
Holding onto her skirts,
Hanging onto her chair.
Before her, behind her-
An adhesive pair.

"Don't you ever get weary
As, day after day,
Your two little tagalongs
Get in your way?

She smiled as she shook
Her pretty young head,
And I'll always remember
The words that she said

"It's good to have shadows
That run when you run,
That laugh when you're happy
And hum when you hum -
For you only have shadows

When your life's filled with sun."

Author Unknown

THE CHRISTMAS SCOUT

"If there are poor among you, in one of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be selfish or greedy toward them. But give freely to them, and freely lend them whatever they need."—Deut. 15:7-8

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year-old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true that he had received all the presents he wanted. And he enjoyed these traditional Christmas Eve reunions of relatives, this year at Aunt Susan's, for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes. But Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together.

Frank said good-bye to his relatives and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend: from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his favorite gift. The other presents he placed on his new sled.

Then Frank headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him. Though rich in wisdom, he lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived, and his patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank's disappointment, his friend was not home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with the limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated near them weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden thought struck Frank, he had not done his "good turn" for the day.

Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. "Yes?" the sad voice of the woman inquired. "May I come in?" "You are very welcome," she said, seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, "but I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children."

"That's not why I am here," Frank replied. "Please choose whatever presents you'd like for your children from this sled."

"Why, God bless you!" the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the new Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out. Finally, the stockings were full.

"Won't you tell me your name?" she asked, as Frank was leaving. "Just call me the Christmas Scout," he replied.

The visit left the boy touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow was not the only sorrow in the world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his gifts. The plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy.

But he trudged homeward, cold and uneasy. Having given his presents away, Frank now could think of no reasonable explanation to offer his parents. He wondered how he could make them understand.

"Where are your presents, son?" asked his father as he entered the house. "I gave them away."

"The airplane from Aunt Susan? Your coat from Grandma? Your flashlight? We thought you were happy with your gifts."

"I was very happy," the boy answered lamely.

"But, Frank, how could you be so impulsive?" his mother asked. "How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?" His father was firm. "You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents."

His brother gone, his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity. For he knew that a good deed always should be it's own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back, however, he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture joy in his life. He thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. Frank thought of his brother and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke: "Merry Christmas, everybody! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage boy who simply referred to himself as the Christmas Scout. No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself."

Frank felt his father's arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling through her tears. "Why didn't you tell us? We didn't understand. We are so proud of you, son."

The carols came over the air again filling the room with music.

"...Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth."

Written by Samuel D. Bogan

SANTA CLAUS

I remember my first Christmas party with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything.

She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go"

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.

As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobbie Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Bobbie Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobbie Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.

"Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobbie."

The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobbie, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobbie's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobbie.

Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobbie Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

Do Not Wake Up With Regrets

This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and former president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. It is well worth reading, and a few good chuckles are guaranteed. Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Thanks to Angela who sent me the story. Have a nice day every one. Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you and yours!

************************************

A Life Without Left Turns by Michael Gartner

My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car.

He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.

"In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."

At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:

"Oh, bull----!" she said. "He hit a horse."


"Well," my father said, "there was that, too."


So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars -- the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none.

My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines , would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.


My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that.

But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.

But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown.

It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.

Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother.

So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying more than once.

For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.

Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage.

(Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.)

He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home.

If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."

After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored."

If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out -- and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream. As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?"

"I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.

"No left turns," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic.

As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn."

"What?" I said again.

"No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights."

"You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support.

"No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works."

But then she added: "Except when your father loses count."

I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing.

"Loses count?" I asked.

"Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again."

I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.

"No," he said " If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."

My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90.

She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102.

They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom -- the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.)

He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died.

One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news.

A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer."

"You're probably right," I said.

"Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated.

"Because you're 102 years old," I said..

"Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day.


That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night.

He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet"

An hour or so later, he spoke his last words: "I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have."

A short time later, he died.

I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long.

I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life,
Or because he quit taking left turns.


CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST OF THIS INSPIRING ENTRY BY MICHAEL GARTNER.

A Most Unexpected Story

Thanks to Freddie who sent me the following post by email. I am sharing this with you with the hope that it will inspire you. Take care and God bless you.

The Carpenter's Glasses
My mother's father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to orphanages in China . On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they were gone When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he realized what had happened; the glasses had slipped out of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed shut. His brand new glasses
were heading for China !

The Great Depression was at its height and Grandpa had six children. He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. He was upset by the thought of having to buy another pair. It's not fair, he told God as he drove home in frustration. I've been very faithful in giving of my time and money to your work, and now this.

Months later, the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States. He wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in China , so he came to speak one Sunday at my grandfather's small church in Chicago . The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in supporting him.

But most of all, he said, I must thank you for the glasses you sent last. You see, the Communists had just swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my glasses.

I was desperate. Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of replacing those glasses.
Along with not being able to see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were much in prayer about this.. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed the covers, they found a pair of glasses lying on top.

The missionary paused long enough to let his words sink in. Then, still gripped with the wonder of it all, he continued:

Folks, when I tried on the glasses, it was as though they had been custom made just for me!
I want to thank you for being a part of that.

The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they thought.

There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent overseas. But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extraordinary way.

There are times we want to blame God instead of thanking him! Perhaps we ought to try to thank Him more often.

May GOD bless your week.
Look for the perfect mistakes. People are like tea bags - you have to put them in hot water before you know how strong they are.

By: ~ Harry S. Truman, Former US President ~

Moral of the story, always believe that God knows what's best for us, even if it may seem like a disaster has befallen upon us. Always look at the positive side.
Have faith my friends.

A Legend For You

There is a Cherokee legend that defines how a Cherokee boy is to become a man.

His father must take him deep into the forest at night, blindfold him, and leave him there alone. The boy must sit on a stump the entire night and not remove his blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through. He cannot cry out for help.

Once he survives the night, he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each must come into manhood on his own.

The boy is naturally terrified. He hears the wind blow and the many strange noises of the night. Wild beasts must surely be around him . Maybe even a human will do him harm but he must sit stoically, never removing the blindfold. It is the only way he can become a man!

Finally, after a horrific night the sun appears and he removs his blindfold.

It is then that he discovers his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.

~ Cherokee Legend ~

The Master and his Disciple

A 10 year old boy decided to study Judo despite the fact that he had lost his left arm in a devastating car accident. The boy began lessons with an old Japanese judo master. The boy was doing well, so he couldn't understand why, after three months of training, the master had taught him only one move.

"Sensei," the boy finally said, "Shouldn't I be learning more moves?"

"This is the only move you know, but this is the only move you'll ever need to know," the sensei replied.

Not quite understanding, but believing in his teacher, the boy kept training.

Several months later, the sensei took the boy to his first tournament. Surprising himself, the boy easily won his first two matches. The third match proved to be more difficult, but after some time, his opponent became impatient and charged; the boy deftly used his one move to win the match.

Still amazed by his success, the boy was now in the finals. This time, his opponent was bigger, stronger, and more experienced. For a while, the boy appeared to be overmatched. Concerned that the boy might get hurt, the referee called a time-out. He was about to stop the match when the sensei intervened.

"No," the sensei insisted, "Let him continue."

Soon after the match resumed, his opponent made a critical mistake: He dropped his guard. Instantly, the boy used his move to pin him. The boy had won the match and the tournament. He was the champion.

On the way home, the boy and the sensei reviewed every move in each and every match. Then the boy summoned the courage to ask what was really on his mind:

"Sensei, how did I win the tournament with only one move?"

"You won for two reasons," the sensei answered. "First, you've almost mastered one of the most difficult throws in all of judo. And second, the only known defense for that move is for your opponent to grab your left arm."

The boy's biggest weakness had become his biggest strength

~ Author Unknown ~

One Day At A Time

Our lives are made up of a million moments,
spent in a million different ways.
Some are spent searching for
love, peace, and harmony.
Others are spent surviving day by day.


But there is no greater moment
than when we find that life,
with all it's joys and sorrows,
is meant to be lived one day at a time.
It's in this knowledge that we discover
the most wonderful truth of all.

Whether we live in a forty-room mansion,
surrounded by servants and wealth,
or find it a struggle to manage
the rent month to month,
we have it within our power to be fully
satisfied and live a life with true meaning.


One day at a time - we have that ability,
through cherishing each moment
and rejoicing in each dream.
We can experience each day anew,
and with this fresh start we have
what it takes to make all our dreams come true.
Each day is new, and living one day at a time
enables us to truly enjoy life and live it to the fullest.


*Thanks to Angela who sent me this post.

Puns for Tuesday

You think English is easy??? Read to the end… a new twist!

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

13) They were too close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

Let's face it - English is a crazy language!
There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England or French Fries in France.
Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why when the stars are out they are visible but when the lights are out they are invisible.

P.S. - Why doesn't 'Buick' rhyme with 'quick'?

You lovers of the English language might enjoy this…

There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is 'UP'.

It's easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP ? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP ? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report ?

We call UP our friends. And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver; we warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special.

And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.

We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost ¼th of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time but if you don't give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more.

When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP! When it rains, it wets the earth and often messes things UP.
When it doesn't rain for awhile, things dry UP.

One could go on and on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now my time is UP, so… it is time for me to shut UP!

*I had posted this before a long time ago but received this from Angela so I thought I'd share it with you for smiles. Have a nice day!

A Most Unique Installation

Customer Service (CS) Rep. : "Yes, Ma'am, how may I help you today?"

Customer: "Well, after much consideration, I've decided to install LOVE. Can you guide me through the process?"

CS Rep. : "Yes, I can help you. Are you ready to proceed?"

Customer: "Well, I'm not very technical, but I think I'm ready to install now. What do I do first?"

CS Rep. : "The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma'am?"

Customer: "Yes I have, but there are several other programs running right now. Is it okay to install while they are running?"

CS Rep. : "What programs are running ma'am?"

Customer: "Let's see, I have PAST-HURT.EXE, LOW ESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now."

CS Rep. : "No problem. LOVE will gradually erase PAST-HURT.EXE from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOW-ESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGH-ESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely turn off GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ma'am?"

Customer: "I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?"

CS Rep. : "My pleasure. Go to your Start menu and invoke FORGIVENESS.EXE. Do this as many times as necessary until GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM have been completely erased."

Customer: "Okay, done. LOVE has started installing itself automatically. Is that normal?"

Cs Rep. : "Yes. You should receive a message that says it will reinstall for the life of your HEART. Do you see that message?"

Customer: "Yes I do. Is it completely installed?"

Cs Rep. : "Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other HEARTS in order to get the upgrades."

Customer: "Oops. I have an error message already. What should I do?"

Cs Rep. : "What does the message say?"

Customer: "It says "ERROR 412 - PROGRAM NOT RUN ON INTERNAL COMPONENTS. What does that mean?"

Cs Rep. : "Don't worry ma'am, that's a common problem. It means that the LOVE program is set up to run on external HEARTS but has not yet been run on your HEART. It is one of those complicated programming things, but in nontechnical terms it means you have to "LOVE" your own machine before it can "LOVE" others."

Customer: "So what should I do?"

Cs Rep. : "Can you pull down the directory called"SELFACCEPTANCE"?"

Customer: "Yes, I have it."

Cs Rep. : " Excellent. You're getting good at this."

Customer: "Thank you."

Cs Rep. : "You're welcome. Click on the following files and then copy them to the "MYHEART" directory: FORGIVE-SELF.DOC, REALIZE-WORTH.TXT, and ACKNOWLEDGE-LIMITATIONS.DOC. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching any faulty programming. Also, you need to delete VERBOSE-SELF-CRITIC.EXE from all directories, and then empty your recycle bin afterwards to make sure it is completely and permanently gone erased."

Customer: "Got it. Hey! My HEART is filling up with new files. SMILE.MPG is playing on my monitor right now and it shows that PEACE.EXE, and CONTENTMENT.COM are copying themselves all over my HEART. Is this normal?"

Cs Rep. : "Sometimes. For others it takes a while, but eventually everything gets downloaded at the proper time. So, LOVE is installed and running. You should be able to handle it from here. One more thing before I go."

Customer: "Yes?"

Cs Rep. : "LOVE is freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everybody you meet. They will share it with other people and then return some similarly sacred modules back to you."

Customer: "I will. Thanks for your help. By the way, what's your name?"

Cs Rep. : " You may call me the Divine Cardiologist, also known as The Great Physician, but most call me God. Many people feel all they need is an annual checkup to stay heart-healthy, but the Manufacturer suggests a schedule of daily maintenance for maximum efficiency. Put another way, keep in touch . . ."

Capturing Moments In Life

The baby is teething, the children are fighting, and my husband just called and said to eat dinner without him. Okay, one of these days you'll shout, "Why don't you grow up and act your age?" ….. and they will.

Or, "You guys get outside and find yourself something to do and don't slam the door."

….. and they won't.

You'll straighten up their bedrooms all neat and tidy with bumper stickers discarded, bed-spread tucked and smoothed, toys all displayed on the shelves, hangers in the closets, animals caged, and you'll say out loud, "Now I want you to stay this way!"

…. and they will.

Then you'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death, a cake with no finger traces through the frosting, and you'll say, "Now there's a meal for company."

…. but you'll eat it alone.

And you'll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone! No dancing around, no pantomimes, no demolition crews! Silence! Do you hear me?"

…. and you'll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti, no more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent, no more dandelion bouquets, no more iron-on patches, no more wet-knotted shoe strings, no more tight boots, or rubber bands on pony tails.

Now, imagine your lipstick with a point. No baby sitter on New Year's Eve. Washing clothes only once a week. No PTA meetings, no car pools, no blaring radios, having your own roll of tape, no more Christmas presents made out of toothpicks and paste, no more wet-oatmeal kisses, no tooth fairy, no giggles in the dark, no knees to Band-aid.

Only a memory of a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?"

And in the silence will come the echo, "I did."

-Author Unknown-

Listen

Red just graduated from college and was offered an opportunity to interview for
a position with a firm in New York City. As the job involved moving his wife and
small child from Texas to New York, he wanted to talk the decision over with someone
before accepting it.

His father had died and Red did not feel he had anybody to turn to. On impulse,
he telephoned an old friend of the family, someone his father had suggested he turn
to if he ever needed good advice. The friend said he would be happy to give Red
advice on the job offer but said:

"I will help you on one condition, and that is that you take whatever advice I give
you. You might want to think about that for a couple of days before hearing my suggestion."

Two days later Red called the man back and said he was ready to listen to his counsel.
The older man said:

"Go on to New York City and have the interview, but I want you to go up there in
a very special way. I want you to go on a train and I want you to get a private
compartment. Don't take anything to write with, anything to listen to, or anything
to read, and don't talk to anybody except to put in your order for dinner with the
porter. When you get to New York call me, and I will tell you what to do next."

Red followed the advice precisely. The trip took two days. As he had brought along
nothing to do and kept entirely to himself, he quickly became bored. It soon dawned
on him what was happening. He was being forced into quiet time. He could do nothing
but think and meditate.

About three hours outside New York City he broke the rules and asked for a pencil
and paper. Until the train stopped, he wrote - the culmination of all his meditation.
Red called the family friend from the train station and said:

"I know what you wanted, you wanted me to think. And now I know what to do. I don't
need anymore help."

"I didn't think you would, Red," came the reply. "Good luck."

Now, years later, Red heads a major corporation in California. He has always made
it a policy at least once a year to take a couple of days to be alone. He goes where
there is no phone, no television and no people. He goes to be alone; to meditate
and have time to listen.

-Author Unknown-

Don't ever give up . . . .

One day I decided to quit...
I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality... I wanted to quit my life.
I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.
"God", I asked, "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"
His answer surprised me...
"Look around", He said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"
"Yes", I replied.

"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them.
I gave them light.
I gave them water.
The fern quickly grew from the earth.

Its brilliant green covered the floor.
Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.

In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful.
And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo. He said.
"In year three there was still nothing from the bamboo seed.
But I would not quit.

In year four, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. I would
not quit." He said.

"Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared
to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant...But just six
months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.
It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive.

I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle."
He asked me. "Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots?"

"I would not quit on the bamboo.
I will never quit on you."
"Don't compare yourself to others."

He said,
"The bamboo had adifferent Purpose than the fern.
Yet they both make the forest beautiful."
"Your time will come", God said to me.
"You will rise high"

"How high should I rise?"
I asked.

"How high will the bamboo rise?"
He asked in return.

"As high as it can?" I questioned.

"Yes." He said, "Give me glory by rising as high as you can."

I left the forest and brought back this story.

I hope these words can help you see that God will never give up on you.
Never, Never, Never Give up.

Prayer is not an option but an opportunity.
Don't tell your God how big the problem is,
tell the problem how Great is your God!

Heaven's door open this morning, God asked me... My CHILD...
what can I do for you?" and I said "Daddy please protect and bless the one reading this message.
God smiled and answered ... "request granted ............

This message is now in your hands.
What will YOU do with it?

send this to at least 10 people so they too will have their
lives in God's hands...

*Thanks to Angela who sent me this post. Have a nice day everyone!

From Father to Son

The following is a beautiful letter written by a father to his son. This applies to daughters too. Thanks to Angela who sent me this post.


*This letter was written by a renown Hong Kong TV broadcaster cum Child Psychologist.to his son from The words are actually applicable to all of us, young or old, children or parents.!

*I am writing this to you because of 3 reasons** *

1. Life, fortune and mishaps are unpredictable, nobody knows how long he lives. Some words are better said early.
2. I am your father, and if I don't tell you these, no one else will.
3. What is written is my own personal bitter experiences that perhaps could save you a lot of unnecessary heartaches.

Remember the following as you go through life

1. Do not bear grudge towards those who are not good to you. No one has the responsibility of treating you well, except your mother and I. To those who are good to you, you have to treasure it and be thankful, and ALSO you have to be cautious, because, everyone has a motive for every move. When a person is good to you, it does not mean he really likes you. You have to be careful, don't hastily regard him as a real friend.

2. No one is indispensable, nothing in the world that you must possess. Once you understand this idea, it would be easier for you to go through life when people around you don't want you anymore, or when you lose what/who you love most.

3. Life is short. When you waste your life today, tomorrow you would find that life is leaving you. The earlier you treasure your life, the better you enjoy life.

4. Love is but a transient feeling, and this feeling would fade with time and with one's mood. If your so called loved one leaves you, be patient, time will wash away your aches and sadness. Don't over exaggerate the beauty and sweetness of love, and don't over exaggerate the sadness of falling out of love.

5. A lot of successful people did not receive a good education, that does not mean that you can be successful by not studying hard! Whatever knowledge you gain is your weapon in life. One can go from rags to riches, but one has to start from some rags!

6. I do not expect you to financially support me when I am old, neither would I financially support your whole life. My responsibility as a supporter ends when you are grown up. After that, you decide whether you want to travel in a public transport or in your limousine, whether rich or poor.

7. You honour your words, but don't expect others to be so. You can be good to people, but don't expect people to be good to you. If you don't understand this, you would end up with unnecessary troubles.

8. I have bought lotteries for umpteen years, but I never strike any prize. That shows if you want to be rich, you have to work hard! There is no free lunch!

9. No matter how much time I have with you, let's treasure the time we have together. We do not know if we would meet again in our next life.

The Pencil and the Eraser

Pencil: I'm sorry....

Eraser: For what? You didn't do anything wrong.

Pencil: I'm sorry cos you get hurt bcos of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.

Eraser: That's true. But I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I'll be gone and you'll replace me with a new one, I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad. :)


I found this conversation between the pencil and the eraser very inspirational.

Parents are like the eraser whereas their children are the pencil. They're always there for their children, cleaning up their mistakes. Sometimes along the way... they get hurt, and become smaller (older, and eventually pass on). Though their children will eventually find someone new (spouse), but parents are still happy with what they do for their children, and will always hate seeing their precious ones worrying, or sad.

This is for all parents out there.....

Hang in there!

*Special thanks to Angela who sent me this post.

Worry

Is there an imaginary cutoff period when
offspring become accountable
for their own actions?
Is there some wonderful moment when
parents can become detached spectators in
the lives of their children and shrug,
'It's Their life,' and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties,
I stood in a hospital corridor
waiting for doctors to put a few stitches
in my daughter's head and I asked,
'When do you stop worrying?'
The nurse said,
'When they get out of the accident stage..'
My Parents just smiled faintly
and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties,
I sat on a little chair in a classroom
and heard how one of my children
talked incessantly, disrupted the class,
and was headed for a career
making license plates.
As if to read my mind, a teacher said,
'Don't worry, they all go through this stage
and then you can sit back,
relax and enjoy them.'
My Parents just smiled faintly
and said nothing.

When I was in my forties,
I spent a lifetime waiting
for the phone to ring,
the cars to come home,
the front door to open.
A friend said,
'They're trying to find themselves.
'Don't worry!
In a few years, they'll be adults.
'They'll be off on their own
they'll be out of your hair'
My Parents just smiled faintly
And said nothing.

By the time I was 50,
I was sick & tired of being vulnerable.
I was still worrying over my children,
but there was a new wrinkle..
Even though they were on their own
I continued to anguish over their failures,
be tormented by their frustrations and
absorbed in their disappointments..
and there was nothing I could do about it.
My Parents just smiled faintly
and said nothing.

My friends said that
when my kids got married
I could stop worrying
and lead my own life.
I wanted to believe that,
but I was haunted by my parent's warm smiles
and their occasional,
'You look pale. Are you all right' ?
'Call me the minute you get home'.
Are you depressed about something?'

My friends said that
when I became a grandparent
that I would get to enjoy
the happy little voices yelling
Grandma! Papa!
But now I find that I worry
just as much about the little kids
as the big ones.
How can anyone cope
with all this Worry?

Can it be that parents are sentenced
to a lifetime of worry?
Is concern for one another
handed down like a torch
to blaze the trail of human frailties
and the fears of the unknown?
Is concern a curse or is it
a virtue that elevates us
to the highest form of earthly creation?

Recently, one of my own children
became quite irritable, saying to me,
'Where were you?
I've been calling for 3 days,
and no one answered
I was worried.'
I smiled a warm smile.
The torch has been passed.

PASS IT ON TO OTHER WONDERFUL PARENTS
(And also to your children... That's the fun part)

-Author Unknown-

Thanks to Angela who sent me this post.

TO LET GO

Does not mean to stop caring, it means you can't do it for someone else.

Does not mean to cut yourself off, it is the realization that you can't do it for someone else.

Does not mean to care for, it means to care about.

Does not mean to fix, it means to be supportive.

Does not mean to change another, it means to make the most of yourself.

Does not mean to deny, it means to accept.

Does not mean to nag or scold, it means to listen.

Does not mean to regret the past, it is to live for the future.

It means that we should admit we are frequently powerless and that someone else's outcome may not be in our hands.

-author unknown-

Singapore Red Cross Home for the Disabled

An aspect of Singapore hardly ever seen, and hardly ever discussed, are the handicapped. Let alone, the severely handicapped. They always seem forgotten.
The average, the below average, and especially the above average Singaporean simply has no time to bother themselves with taking time off to help with such projects.
The Video was created to coincide with the launch of the New Home for the Disabled.

Filmed in just 5 days, and edited in under a week, this short Promo was designed to touch hearts. It was filmed only using consumer cameras, and edited using consumer Computers. And it centered around the moving from the old home to the new one. Judiciously showing a "before and after" in the process.

We invite people to get their hands dirty, helping others in any selfless way they can. Not just giving money, but more so, giving their time, which is far more valuable and precious. Amateur filmmakers can also help, by documenting event special to them, and making such Videos available to the public for a better tomorrow.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE VIDEO that was produced by Dr. Michael Chick. Kudos Dr. Michael for a brilliant job and more importantly for your heart that cares!

Attitude

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror,
And noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'I think I'll braid my hair today.'
So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror
And saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
'H-M-M,' she said, 'I think I'll part my hair down the middle today.'
So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed
That she had only one hair on her head.
'Well,' she said, 'today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail.'
So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and
Noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
'YAY!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have to fix my hair today!'

Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary, For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,Love generously, Care deeply, Speak kindly, And pray continually.
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...

It's about learning to dance in the rain.

It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.

*Thanks to Mr. Krishnan and Angela who both sent me this post.

Fantastic Facts

Baby robins eat 14 feet of earthworms everyday!!

The Bird of Paradise can sleep upside down.

Female turtles can store sperm up to four years before laying viable eggs.

The elephant is one of the few animals that cannot jump.

The poison-arrow frog has enough poison to kill 2 200 people.

The praying manthis is the only insect that can turn its head.

The Greeter

Charley, a new retiree-greeter at Wal-Mart, just couldn't seem to get to work on time. Every day he was 5, 10, 15 minutes late. But he was a good worker, really tidy, clean-shaven, sharp minded and a real credit to the company and obviously demonstrating their "Older Person Friendly" policies.

One day the boss called him into the office for a talk.

"Charley, I have to tell you, I like your work ethic, you do a bang up job, but your being late so often is quite bothersome."

"Yes, I know boss, and I am working on it."

''Well good, you are a team player. That's what I like to hear. It's odd though you're coming in late. I know you're retired from the Armed Forces.
What did they say if you came in late there?"

''They said, 'Good morning Admiral, can I get your coffee, sir?'''

FUNNY AND INSPIRING THOUGHTS

1. Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me for the path is narrow. In fact, just piss off and leave me alone.

2. Sex is like air. It's not that important unless you aren't getting any.

3. No one is listening until you fart.

4. Always remember you're unique. Just like everyone else.

5.. Never test the depth of the water with both feet.

6. If you think nobody cares whether you're alive or dead, try missing a couple of mortgage payments.

7. Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

8. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

9. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.

10. If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably well worth it.

11. If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.

12. Some days you are the bug; some days you are the windshield.

13. Don't worry; it only seems kinky the first time.

14. Good judgment comes from bad experience ... and most of that comes from bad judgment.

15. A closed mouth gathers no foot.

16. There are two excellent theories for arguing with women. Neither one works..

17. Generally speaking, you aren't learning much when your lips are moving.

18. Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

19. We are born naked, wet and hungry, and get slapped on our ass ... then things just keep getting worse.

20. Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night......

*Thanks to Pauline who sent me this post.

Have a nice day everyone!

The Birdies

Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual experiences, some of which are very sacred and confidential, and others, although sacred, are meant to be shared.

Last summer my family had a spiritual experience that had a lasting and profound impact on us, one we feel must be shared. It’s a message of love. It’s a message of regaining perspective, and restoring proper balance and renewing priorities. In humility, I pray that I might, in relating this story, give you a gift my little son, Brian, gave our family one summer day last year.

On July 22nd I was traveling to Washington DC for a business trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative immediately. I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sank. When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, “Mr. Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call the hospital.”

My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes, and that when my wife had found him he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital.

By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness.

The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream. I was filled-in with the ails and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was okay, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain received any damage. Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before.

Finally at two o’clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said, “Daddy hold me,” and he reached for me with his little arms. By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine our gratitude and joy. As we took Brian home we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush death so closely.

In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home. Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.

The story is not over (smile)!

Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, “Sit down, Mommy. I have something to tell you.” At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed and he began his sacred and remarkable story.

“Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you, but you couldn’t hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the ‘birdies’ came.”

“The birdies?” my wife asked puzzled.

“Yes,” he replied. “The birdies made a swooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me.”

“They did?”

“Yes” he said. “One of the birdies came and got you. She came to tell you I got stuck under the door.” A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from beyond as “birdies” because they were up in the air like birds that fly.

“What did the birdies look like?” she asked.

Brian answered, “They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all white. Some of them had green and white. But some of them had on just white.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Yes” he answered. “They told me the baby would be alright.”

“The baby?” my wife asked confused.

Brian answered, “The baby laying on the garage floor.” He went on, “You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave.”

My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian’s body and seeing his crushed chest and recognizable features, knowing he was already dead, she looked up around her and whispered, “Don’t leave us Brian, please stay if you can.” As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left his body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form.

“Then what happened?” she asked.

“We went on a trip,” he said, “far, far away.” He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn’t seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult. “We flew so fast up in the air. They’re so pretty Mommy,” he added. “And there is lots and lots of birdies.”

My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to tell her that the “birdies” had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the “birdies”. He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay, but the man couldn’t hear him. He said the birdies told him he had to go with the ambulance, but they would be near him. He said they were so pretty and so peaceful, and he didn’t want to come back. Then the bright light came. He said that the light was so bright and so warm, and he loved the bright light so much. Someone was in the bright light and put their arms around him, and told him, “I love you but you have to go back. You have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies.” Then the person in the bright light kissed him and waved bye-bye. Then woosh, the big sound came and they went into the clouds.

The story went on for an hour. He taught us that “birdies” were always with us, but we don’t see them because we look with our eyes and we don’t hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, “I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much.”

In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it again and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies. Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the “birdies.” Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and smiled. Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.

–Author unknown-

Children are like Kites

You spend years trying to get them off the ground.

You run with them until you are both breathless. They crash ... they hit the roof ... you patch, comfort and assure them that someday they will fly.

Finally, they are airborne.

They need more string, and you keep letting it out.

They tug, and with each twist of the twine, there is sadness that goes with joy.

The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you together and will soar as meant to soar ... free and alone.

Only then do you know that you have done your job.

-author unknown-

What is Commitment

I will never forget what my old headmaster told taught me. Normally when you are only 15 years of age you do not remember most of the things that are preached by your teachers. But, this particular story is one such lesson that I will never forget. Every time I drift off course, I get reminded of this story.

It was a normal Monday morning at an assembly, and he was addressing the students on important things in life and about committing ourselves to what is important to us. This is how the story went:

An old man lived in a certain part of London, and he would wake up every morning and go to the subway. He would get the train right to Central London, and then sit at the street corner and beg. He would do this every single day of his life. He sat at the same street corner and begged for almost 20 years.

His house was filthy, and a stench came out of the house and it smelled horribly. The neighbors could not stand the smell anymore, so they summoned the police officers to clear the place. The officers knocked down the door and cleaned the house. There were small bags of money all over the house that he had collected over the years.

The police counted the money, and they soon realized that the old man was a millionaire. They waited outside his house in anticipation to share the good news with him. When he arrived home that evening, he was met by one the officers who told him that there was no need for him to beg any more as he was a rich man now, a millionaire.

He said nothing at all; he went into his house and locked the door. The next morning he woke up as usual, went to the subway, got into the train, and sat at the street corner and continued to beg.

Obviously, this old man had no great plans, dreams or anything significant for his life. We learn nothing from this story other than staying focused on the things we enjoy doing, commitment.

We should remain true to our course; which may mean committing yourselves to things that people around you would normally disapprove. Let nothing distract us from being happy, let nothing else determine our fate, but ourselves.

What makes us happy is what matters in the end, not what we acquire.

Written by O.F Thataone

BROKEN

Melanie's son's high school classmate was in a horrible traffic accident the day after he turned 18 (January 2005) and was in a coma for months before awakening to a new, impaired life. The young man has a beautiful, positive, grateful spirit, but Melanie often thinks how painful it must be for his parents to see him as he is now every day and recall what he was and imagine what he might have been had he not stepped into the street without looking on his way home from a soccer match on that fateful night. Melanie imagines how she would feel if it had been her son rather than theirs who had suffered the disability.

She wrote the following poem entitled "Broken" after the young man woke up from his coma.

Broken written by Melanie

I didn't yet know you
That Monday this past January
When you turned eighteen.
I first heard your name
On Tuesday night
When you were already
Broken.


They say it wasn't the driver's fault.
I'm glad for him.
How could he go through life
Plagued by the guilt
Of having been the reason
For your being
Broken?


If only you hadn't been
On the soccer team...
If only you'd gotten
A ride home that night...
If only it hadn't been
Raining so terribly hard...
But it was,
And so you were
Broken.


I began praying for you
That very night.
With tears
And with all my heart
I begged our God
To restore you
To the way you were
Before you were
Broken.


I finally met you
Two months later.
You lay, perhaps asleep,
Your father at your side,
In hospital number three
Since the night you were
Broken.


Little by little,
In steps tinier than a baby's,
Your condition has improved.
Sometimes I left your room
In tearful discouragement,
And sometimes
In exuberant rejoicing.
Each time, though,
You remained behind, still
Broken.


Your body hasn't yet
Regained its former strength and skill.
Your mind hasn't yet
Regained all its clarity.
Yet throughout
This long, hard journey,
The faith and hope
Of those who love you-
And your own spirit-
Haven't been
And cannot be
Broken.

Life is precious - Treasure it!

REMEMBERING YOU

Prayer is not a "spare wheel" that you pull out when in trouble,
but it is a "steering wheel" that directs the right path throughout.

Do you know why a Car's WINDSHIELD is so large & the Rearview Mirror is so small?
Because our PAST is not as important as our FUTURE. Look Ahead and Move on.

All things in life are temporary. If going well, enjoy it, they will not last forever.
If going wrong, don't worry, they can't last long either.

Often when we lose hope and think this is the end, GOD smiles from above and says,
"Relax, sweetheart, it's just a bend, not the end!

When GOD solves your problems, you have faith in HIS abilities;
when GOD doesn't solve your problems HE has faith in your abilities.

When you pray for others, God listens to you and blesses them,
and sometimes, when you are safe and happy, remember that someone has prayed for you.

WORRYING does not take away tomorrows' TROUBLES, it takes away today's peace.

Many thanks to Mr Krishnan who sent me this post.

THE CHAPATI

A woman baked chapati for members of her family and an extra one for a hungry passerby. She kept the extra chapati on the Window-sill, for whosoever would take it away. Everyday, a hunchback came and took away the chapati. Instead of expressing gratitude, he muttered the following words as he went his way: "The evil you do remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" This went on, day after day. Everyday, the hunch-back came, picked up the chapati and uttered the words: "The evil you do, remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" The woman felt irritated. "Not a word of gratitude," she said to herself...

"Everyday this hunchback utters this jingle! What does he mean? "One day, exasperated, she decided to do away with him. "I shall get rid of this hunchback," she said. And what did she do? She added poison to the Chapatti she prepared for him! As she was about to keep it on the window sill, her hands trembled. "What is this I am doing?" she said Immediately, she threw the chapati into the fire, prepared another one and kept it on the window- sill. As usual, the hunchback came, picked up the chapati and muttered the words: "The evil you do, remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!" The hunchback proceeded on his way, blissfully unaware of the war raging in the mind of the woman.

Everyday, as the woman placed the chapati on the window-sill, she offered a prayer for her son who had gone to a distant place to seek his fortune. For many months, she had no news of him.. She prayed for his safe return. That evening, there was a knock on the door. As she opened it, she was surprised to find her son standing in the doorway. He had grown thin and lean. His garments were tattered and torn. He was hungry, starved and weak.
As he saw his mother, he said, "Mom, it's a miracle I'm here. While I was but a mile away, I was so famished that I collapsed. I would have died, but just then an old hunchback passed by. I begged of him for a morsel of food, and he was kind enough to give me a whole chapati."As he gave it to me, he said, "This is what I eat everyday: today, I shall give it to you, for your need is greater than mine!" " As the mother heard those words, her face turned pale.

She leaned against the door for support. She remembered the poisoned chapati that she had made that morning. Had she not burnt it in the fire, it would have been eaten by her own son, and he would have lost his life! It was then that she realized the significance of the words:"The evil you do remains with you: The good you do, comes back to you!"

Do good and; Don't ever stop doing good, even if it’s not appreciated at that time.


If you like this, share it with others and I bet you so many lives would be affected.

Have a wonderful day.

*Thanks to Mr. Krishnan who sent me this beautiful story.

I Attend to My Ship

There is a story of about a sea captain who in his retirement skippered a boat taking day-trippers to Islands. On one trip, the boat was full of young people. They laughed at the old captain when they saw him say a prayer before sailing out, because the day was fine and the sea was calm.



However they weren't long at sea when a storm suddenly blew up and the boat began to pitch violently. The terrified passengers came To the captain and asked him to join them in prayer.

But he replied, "I say my prayers when it's calm. When it's rough, I attend to my ship."

Here is a lesson for us......

If we cannot and will not seek God in quiet moments of our lives, we are not likely to find Him when trouble strikes. We are more likely to panic.
But if we have learnt to seek Him and trust him in quiet moments, then most certainly we will find Him when the going gets rough.

A PRAYER A DAY KEEPS US MINDFUL

*Thanks to Mr. Krishnan who sent me this post.

Friendship Quotes

A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.

- Bernard Meltzer.


A friend is someone who is there for you when he’d rather be somewhere else.

- Anonymous


Never shall I forget the days I spent with you. Continue to be my friend, as you will always find me yours.

- Ludwig van Beethoven


…no man is useless
while he has a friend.

- Robert Louis Stevenson


Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with.

- Mark Twain


A single rose can be my garden… a single friend, my world.

- Leo Buscaglia


A true friend is one who overlooks your failures and tolerates your success!

- Doug Larson

TWELVE GOOD RULES

Twelve Good Rules

1. If you open it, close it.
2. If you turn it on, turn it off.
3. If you unlock it, lock it.
4. If you break it, repair it.
5. If you can’t fix it, call someone who can.
6. If you borrow it, return it.
7. If you use it, take care of it.
8. If you make a mess, clean it up.
9. If you move it, put it back.
10. If you don’t know how to operate it, leave it alone.
11. If it belongs to someone else and you want to use it, get permission.
12. If it doesn’t concern you, mind your own business.

REMEMBERING THE LESSONS

Aryan was one person whom you would love to have as a friend. He was one of those guys who was always jovial and happy and would always try to make people around him feel the same. He was always cool about what he did and he never let anyone else take up control of his life. Being in school with him, he seemed to be average intelligent guy and always used to manage his studies somehow. But slowly in the last two years of his schooling did he lose control of his life a bit.

By the time he reached college he had lost almost all control of his life and had entered into quite a lot of bad company. He did not change from being a jovial character but he started taking his life too lightly. Someone who once used to be a parent’s good child slowly started considering himself smarter and many a times despised his parents for being ignorant of the college system and started living his life without control. With his company ruining, he started playing around with his career in the first year of college. His friends used to encourage him to bunk college and loiter around saying that the system is too easy and he will clear it without doing any work and in his own high, he accepted the fact and went completely wayward. But his ultimate shock came at the end of his first year which changed his life completely.

Fooling around the whole year, when the time came for filling up the forms for the university exams, he was told that the college authorities have withdrawn his name from appearing in the examinations due to lack of attendance and other university rules. When he came to know about this, the world around him came to a standstill. He realized that the barring a couple of people like him, all his other friends were being allowed to sit in the exams and he was the only one left to repeat the whole year. Trying all he could to get the college authorities to pass his form, they didn’t allow him to appear in the exams. That is when he learned his biggest lesson.

Talking with one of his close friends he said that the journey of life is like a journey in a car, where there come many potholes. He realized that, where some of these potholes are small, some are really big which really affect our journey and can stop us from reaching our destination. And being in this journey, it is our company in the car which also matter, for some may put us in that shit without us even realizing it and in the process ruining us with hardly any problem to them. He realized that when his parents were advising him to go to college, they were his true well wishers and were the ones who really tried to get him out of the hole, whereas the friends who made him loiter and waste time were the ones who actually spoiled him and put him in a bigger mess than he ever was.

Today coping up with his studies and leaving the bad company he had around him, he feels the mistake he did in that period. He had lost one important year of his life and career and all the people around whom he was, had started their professional lives and he being alone making up realized his biggest folly. Being the good ol’ Aryan, he found the company of some of his true old friends and realized what mistake he had done when he lost touch with them. Feeling the change within him, he started accepting the advice given to him by his parents and friends who would push him more towards his career path.

Over the period of time he gained back his parent’s confidence which went crumbling down after the first year fiasco. Seeing the change around him he realized what he had lost and in the process realized how bad things could have gone had he not realized the trouble. Today he relishes being the person he is and wishes he never gets back to the path he once was on.

Dalai Lama once said when you lose, don’t lose the lesson.

Just like Aryan, its important for us to learn and grow from our experiences. We shall always continue our battle in life and we will have many fights in our future. Its not important that we win or lose but what matters is whether we learn from our mistakes or not. Aryan realized that he had made a blunder but because of his conscious realization and the company around him he was able to recover in time. But then, haven’t we seen many a people like Aryan lose track of their life and are never able to recover?! The positive for Aryan was that he learnt his lesson in time but all of us may not be so fortunate. Its important for everyone of us to understand when we make mistakes in the present time or else we may not be so fortunate.

Our chief wisdom consists in knowing our follies and faults, so that we may correct them.

-Author Unknown-

TO MY DEAR READERS

The following post was sent to me by Rainstorm (thanks!!) and even though it is about Sisters' Day, without being discriminatory, I wish to say the same applies to the guys! Take care and have a lovely day!
______________________________

Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Love the ones who don't just because you can. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands.

If it changes your life, let it. Kiss slowly. Forgive quickly. God never said life would be easy. He just promised it would be
worth it.

Today is Sister's Day. Send this to all your sisters - even me, if I am like one.
If you get back 7, you are loved.
Happy Sister's Day !

I LOVE YA SISTA!!! :-)

Girlfriends and Sisters Week
I am only as strong as the coffee I drink, the hairspray I use and the friends I have.

To the cool women that have touched my life... here's to you!
National Girlfriends Day

What would most of us do without our sisters, confidants and shopping,
lunching, and traveling girls?

Let's celebrate each other for each other's sake!

TO MY GIRLFRIENDS!
If you get this twice you know you have more than one girlfriend. Be Happy! It is good to be a woman

and if you don't forward.....for whatever reason, you're still loved and you're still a great woman!

GET READY FOR ANTARES' 2ND COMING!!

Many of you know Antares of Magickriver as the blogger extraordinaire. But did you know that he is also artistically gifted in many other areas including music, art and vocals?



In April 1986, Antares released a limited-edition cassette titled 2nd Coming to celebrate the return of Halley's Comet and to gratify his libidinous addiction to musical extemporization.

He recorded, mixed and produced his first two albums on my own initiative financed by his own savings. The first album sold pretty well, even if no record company was interested in helping him distribute it. From the sales, be bought buy studio time (at a generous discount, thanks to Rediffusion!) to record 2nd Coming on state-of-the-art, 16-track, 2-inch analog tape.

Now, Antares is about to reissue his 1986 solo album, 2nd Coming, on CD - with a brand new master digitally enhanced by Deejay Sanuk aka Daniel Schwörer, an ace Swiss audio engineer and producer residing in Koh Samui.

If you want to know more about the album CLICK HERE and to listen to sample tracks, PLEASE CLICK HERE. Select the first item, "Terminal Hierophantiasis." Note that the mp3 version featured here has not been digitally enhanced.

Personally, I have seen Antares tinker on my piano in my home and have two of his albums. His talent is simply awesome and his creativity is most unusual as he is able to marry cultural and fusion elements most artistically. Considering that he was not musically trained, I find his compositions and chord progressions most unusual and almost surreal. It is such a pity that due to his preference for his lifestyle, he is not in the thick of the music scene in Malaysia. Certainly, few can come close to his talent and passion for what his music.

Please support him by putting in your orders early by :

a) transferring RM25 into either Maybank savings account #112071252584 or Public Bank savings account #4468026936;

or

b) depositing USD10/€8 into his PayPal account c/o magickriver@gmail.com.

Please don't forget to email your postal address. The price includes postage. You will be notified when the CDs are posted.

My family and I wish Antares the very best in this music venture. My two boys and I dream of jamming with him one day but then again, Antares is in a super-duper class of his own!!

Syabas, Antares!!!

FOR ALL MY READERS...

Thanks to rainstorm who sent me the following post. May you and yours be blessed over and over again. Have a nice day!

Your Heart is your Love,
Your love is your Family,
Your family is your Future,
Your future is your Destiny ,
Your destiny is your Ambition,
Your ambition is your Aspiration,
Your aspiration is your Motivation,
Your motivation is your Belief,
Your belief is your Peace,
Your peace is your Target,
Your target is Heaven,
Heaven is no fun without FRIENDS
It's ' World Best Friends Week' forward this to all your good friends if u can.

HAPPINESS IS...

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.

Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed.
Happiness is the spiritual experience of living
every minute with love, grace and gratitude.

THE CAKE

Cindy glanced nervously at the clock on the kitchen wall. Five minutes before midnight.

"They should be home any time now," she thought as she put the finishing touches on the chocolate cake she was frosting. It was the first time in her12 years she had tried to make a cake from scratch, and to be honest, it wasn't exactly an aesthetic triumph. The cake was . . . well, lumpy. And the frosting was bitter, as if she had run out of sugar or something. Which, of course, she had.

And then there was the way the kitchen looked. Imagine a huge blender filled with all the fixings for chocolate cake -- including the requisite bowls, pans and utensils. Now imagine that the blender is turned on. High speed. With the lid off. Do you get the idea?

But Cindy wasn't thinking about the mess. She had created something, a veritable phoenix of flour and sugar rising out of the kitchen clutter. She was anxious for her parents to return home from their date so she could present her anniversary gift to them. She turned off the kitchen lights and waited excitedly in the darkness. When at last she saw the flash of the car headlights, she positioned herself in the kitchen doorway. By the time she heard the key sliding into the front door, she was THIS CLOSE to exploding.

Her parents tried to slip in quietly, but Cindy would have none of that. She flipped on the lights dramatically and trumpeted: "Ta-daaa!" She gestured grandly toward the kitchen table, where a slightly off-balance two-layer chocolate cake awaited their inspection.

But her mother's eyes never made it all the way to the table. "Just look at this mess!" she moaned. "How many times have I talked to you about cleaning up after yourself?"

"But Mom, I was only..."

"I should make you clean this up right now, but I'm too tired to stay up with you to make sure you get it done right," her mother said. "So you'll do it first thing in the morning."

"Honey," Cindy's father interjected gently, "take a look at the table."

"I know -- it's a mess," his wife said coldly. "The whole kitchen is a disaster. I can't stand to look at it." She stormed up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

For a few moments Cindy and her father stood silently, neither one knowing what to say. At last she looked up at him, her eyes moist and red. "She never saw the cake," she said.

Unfortunately, Cindy's mother isn't the only parent who suffers from Situational Timbercular Glaucoma -- the occasional inability to see the forest for the trees. From time to time we all allow ourselves to be blinded to issues of long-term significance by Stuff That Seems Awfully Important Right Now -- but isn't. Muddy shoes, lost lunch money and messy kitchens are troublesome, and they deserve their place among life's frustrations. But what's a little mud -- even on new carpet -- compared to a child's self- esteem? Is a lost dollar more valuable than a youngster's emerging dignity? And while kitchen sanitation is important, is it worth the sacrifice of tender feelings and relationships?

I'm not saying that our children don't need to learn responsibility, or to occasionally suffer the painful consequences of their own bad choices. Those lessons are vital, and need to be carefully taught. But as parents, we must never forget that we're not just teaching lessons -- we're teaching children. That means there are times when we really need to see the mess in the kitchen.

And times when we only need to see the cake.

TREES THAT WOOD

Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, "Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty."

Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull."

Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.

At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.

When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down.

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.

Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time. Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.

The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.

-author unknown-