Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Wise Old Man

A man of 92 years, very well presented,
who took great care in his appearance,
was moving into an elderly persons home.
His wife had recently passed away,
and he was obliged to leave his home.
After waiting several hours
In the retirement home lobby,
He gently smiles as he is told
That his room is ready.

As he slowly walks to the elevator,
using his cane,
the assistant describes his small room to him,
including the sheet hung at the window
which serves as a curtain.

"I like it very much",
he says,
(with the enthusiasm of an 8 year old boy
who has just been given a new puppy).

"Mr. Jones,
you haven’t even seen the room yet,
just hang on a moment,
we are almost there".

"That has nothing to do with it",
he replies.
"Happiness is something
I choose in advance.
Whether or not I like the room
does not depend on the furniture,
or the decor – rather it depends
on how I decide to see it".
"It is already decided in my mind
that I like my room.
It is a decision I take every morning
when I wake up".

"I can choose whether
I spend my day in bed
enumerating all the difficulties
that I have with the parts of my body
that no longer work very well,
or I can get up and give thanks
to heaven for those parts
that are still in working order".

"Every day is a gift,
and as long as I can open my eyes,
I will focus on the new day,
and all the happy memories
that I have built up during my life".
"Old age is like a bank account.

You withdraw in later life
what you have deposited along the way".

So, my advice to you is to deposit all the happiness you can in your bank account of memories.

And Thank You for your part
in filling my account with happy memories,
which I am still continuing to fill…

Remember these simple guidelines for happiness.

1. Free your heart from hate.

2. Free your mind from worry.

3. Live simply.

4. Give more.

5. Expect less.

If you like, send this message on….
it is the way we touch each other with simple truths
that spreads goodness in the world.

Who knows, a miracle may happen as a result …
After all life is what you make it …

Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Are you Happy ?

Does your spouse make you happy, truly happy?
On a certain occasion, during an elegant welcoming reception for the new Director of Marketing of an
important London company, some of the wives of the other directors, who wanted to get acquainted with the
new spouse, asked her with some hesitation:

The husband, who at the moment was not at her side, but was sufficiently near to hear the question, paid attention to the conversation, sitting up slightly, feeling secure, even filling his chest lightly in pride, knowing that his spouse would answer affirmatively, since she had always been there for him during their marriage.

Nevertheless, to both his and the others’ surprise, she replied simply:

“No, no he doesn’t make me happy...

The room became uncomfortably silent, as if everyone were listening to the spouse’s response.

The husband was petrified.

He couldn’t believe what his wife was saying, especially at such an important occasion for him.

To the amazement of her husband and of everyone, she simply placed enigmatically on her head an elegant black silk scarf and continued:

“No, he doesn’t make me happy …I AM HAPPY.”

The fact that I am happy or not, doesn’t depend on him, but on me.

“I am the only person upon which my happiness depends.

I make the choice to be happy in each situation and in each moment of my life.

If my happiness were to depend on other people, on other things or circumstances on the face of this earth, I would be in serious trouble!

“Everything that exists in this life changes continually: humans, wealth, my body, the climate, pleasures, etc.

I could enumerate an infinite list…

“Over my life I have learned a couple of things:

I decide to be happy and the rest is a matter of "experiences or circumstances;” like helping, and understanding, accepting, listening, consoling; and with my spouse,

I have lived and practiced this many times….

Happiness will always be found in forgiveness and in loving yourself and others.

- …It’s not the responsibility of my spouse to make me happy... He also has his “experiences or circumstances.” I love him and he loves me, often inspite of his circumstances and of mine.

“He changes, I change, the environment changes, everything changes; Having forgiveness and true love, and observing these changes, that can be, big or little, but always happen, we must face them with the love that exists in each one of us.

If the two of us love and forgive each other, the changes will only be “experiences or circumstances” that enrich us and give us strength.

Otherwise we would only be “living together.”

For some, divorce is the only solution;
(…in reality it is the easiest…)

To truly love, is difficult,

It is to forgive unconditionally, to live,

To take the “experiences or circumstances” as they are,

Facing them together and being happy with conviction.

There are those who say:

“I cannot be happy because I am sick, because I have no money,

Because it’s too cold, because they insulted me,

Because someone stopped loving me,

Because someone didn’t appreciate me!”

But what you don’t know is that you can be happy even though you are sick,

whether it is too hot, whether you have money or not,

Whether someone has insulted you,

Or someone didn’t love you, or hasn’t valued you.


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


depends on you !

Diseño original y galería de fotos de libre acceso en internet

Cortesía de Carlos Rangel
Santiago de Querétaro, Mex. Dic. 2007
Translated into English by
Paul Cushman

Sunday, July 24, 2011

From Beyond The Grave

My friend, TO, sent me a link to a very beautiful and meaningful letter written by a father to his children. Paul’s greatest gift to his wife and children was a document titled ‘On finding fulfilment’, which Mandy discovered on his laptop, by chance last month.

Please click here to read that article that will surely move you deeply. Take care and have a lovely day.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

If I Had My Life To Live Over

I would have talked less
and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to
dinner even if the carpet was
stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in
the "GOOD" living room and
worried much less about the dirt
when someone wanted to light
a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to
listen to my grandfather ramble
about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car
windows be rolled up on a summer
day because my hair had just
been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle
sculpted like a rose before it
melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn
with my children and not
worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less
while watching television and
more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was
sick instead of pretending the earth
would go into a holding pattern if
I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything
just because it was practical,
wouldn't show soil, or was
guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine
months of pregnancy, I'd have
cherished every moment realizing
that the wonderment growing inside
me was the only chance in life to
assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously,
I would never have said,
"Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love
yous" ... more "I'm sorrys"
....but mostly, given another shot
at life, I would seize every
minute.... look at it and really see
it... live it... and never give it back.

By Erma Bombeck

Monday, July 11, 2011

The Blue Rose

Having four visiting family members, my wife was very busy, so I offered to go to the store for her to get some needed items, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags, detergent and Clorox. So off I went.

I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies and headed for the checkout counter, only to be blocked in the narrow aisle by a young man who appeared to be about sixteen-years-old. I wasn't in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there. This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, "Mommy, I'm over here."

It was obvious now, he was mentally challenged and also startled as he turned and saw me standing so close to him, waiting to squeeze by. His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"

"My name is Denny and I'm shopping with my mother," he responded proudly.

"Wow," I said, "that's a cool name; I wish my name was Denny, but my name is Steve."

"Steve, like Stevarino?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. "How old are you Denny?"

"How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next aisle.

"You're fifteen-years-old Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by."

I acknowledged her and continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about summer, bicycles and school. I watched his brown eyes dance with excitement, because he was the center of someone's attention. He then abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.

Denny's mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him.

I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by the prompting of the Holy Spirit. I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in God's Garden; however, "Blue Roses" are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness. You see, Denny is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn't stop and smell that rose with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they've missed a blessing from God.

She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, "Who are you?"

Without thinking I said, "Oh, I'm probably just a dandelion, but I sure love living in God's garden."

She reached out, squeezed my hand and said, "God bless you!" and then I had tears in my eyes.

May I suggest, the next time you see a BLUE ROSE, don't turn your head and walk off. Take the time to smile and say Hello. Why? Because, by the grace of GOD, this mother or father could be you. This could be your child, grandchild, niece or nephew. What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.

From an old dandelion!

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

"People will forget what you said, People will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel!" ANON.

If this story blesses you today Please consider sharing it with others.

Life can be challenging at times. How you deal with challenges has an enormous impact on your happiness and well being.

-Author Unknown-

Thanks to SKT who sent me this post.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

The Sweet Old Soul

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight year old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body.

But the appalling thing was his face lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said,

"Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."

He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face...I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..." For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me:

"I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."

I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us.

"No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.

When I finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.

He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.

At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said:

"Could I please come back and stay next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit, I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grown-ups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind."

I told him he was welcome to come again.

On his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 am and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed.

Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.

"Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"

Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him. I know our family will always be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself,

"If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!" My friend changed my mind.

"I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."

She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven.

"Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman.

"He won't mind starting in this small body."

All this happened long ago and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

Author Unknown