Nice Stories

8/7/2019 Nice Stories

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Dads Blessings

A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For manymonths he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom,and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all hewanted.

As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that hisfather had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of hisgraduation, his father called him into his private study. His father toldhim how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how muchhe loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box.Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box

and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's nameembossed in gold. Angry, he raised his voice to his father and said"With all your money, you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of thehouse, leaving the Bible.

Many years passed and the young man was very successful inbusiness. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realizedhis father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. Hehad not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could makearrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father hadpassed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to

come home immediately and take care of things.

When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filledhis heart. He began to search through his father's important papersand saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears,he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. And as he did, a carkey dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer'sname, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On thetag was the date of his graduation, and the words PAID IN FULL.

How many times do we miss Spirit's blessings and answers to our

prayers because they do not arrive exactly as we have expected?

TODAY'S's affirmation: "Today I look beyond the obvious and allow miracles to be created in my life."



Inspirational love stories - Love and Time

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness,

Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was

announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and

left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible

moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said,

"Richness, can you take me with you?"

Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There

is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity,

please help me!"

"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity

answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."

"Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear

when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So

blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going.

When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much

was owed the elder,

Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?"

"It was Time," Knowledge answered.

"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"

Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable

of understanding how valuable Love is."



Alexander Fleming

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to eke

out a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped

his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy,

screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could

have been a slowand terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. Anelegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy

Farmer Fleming had saved.

"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life.""No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the

offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

"I'll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education.If the lad is anything like his father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud of."

And that he did. In time, Farmer Fleming's son graduated from St. Mary's HospitalMedical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as thenoted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved him? Penicillin.The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.

His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

http://www.indianchild.com/alexander_fleming.htm














By the time the Lord made mothers, He was into thesixth day working overtime. An Angel appeared andsaid "Why are you spending so much time on thisone?"

And the Lord answered and said, "Have you read thespec sheet on her? She has to be completely washable,but not elastic; have 200 movable parts, all replaceable;run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that canhold three children at one time and that disappearswhen she stands up; have a kiss that can cure anythingfrom a scraped knee to a broken heart; and have sixpairs of hands."

The Angel was astounded at the requirements for this one. "Sixpairs of hands! No way!" said the Angel.

The Lord replied, "Oh, it's not the hands that are the problem. It'sthe three pairs of eyes that mothers must have!"

"And that's on the standard model?" the Angel asked.

The Lord nodded in agreement, "Yep, one pair of eyes are to seethrough the closed door as she asks her children what they aredoing even though she already knows. Another pair in the back of her head are to see what she needs to know even though no onethinks she can. And the third pair are here in the front of her head.

They are for looking at an errant child and saying that sheunderstands and loves him or her without even saying a singleword."

The Angel tried to stop the Lord "This is too much work for oneday. Wait until tomorrow to finish."



"But I can't!" The Lord protested, "I am so close to finishing thiscreation that is so close to my own heart. She already healsherself when she is sick AND can feed a family of six on a poundof hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand in the shower."

The Angel moved closer and touched the woman, "But you havemade her so soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough.You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?" asked the Angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will beable to reason, and negotiate."

The Angel then noticed something and reached out and touchedthe woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like You have a leak with thismodel. I told You that You were trying to put too much into thisone."

"That's not a leak." the Lord objected. "That's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the Angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her disappointment, her pain, her loneliness, her grief, andher pride."

The Angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thoughtof everything for this one. You even created the tear!"

The Lord looked at the Angel and smiled and said, "I'm afraid youare wrong again. I created the woman, but she created the tear!"



Mothers day - inspiring story about

mother

( an inspiring motivational story )

A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother wholived two hundred miles away.

As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing.

He asked her what was wrong and she replied, "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother.But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars."

The man smiled and said, "Come on in with me. I'll buy you a rose."

He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother's flowers.

As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home.She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother."

She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.

The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet anddrove the two hundred miles to his mother's house.

http://www.indianchild.com/mothers_day.htm

http://www.indianchild.com/mothers_day.htm



Sand and Stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of thejourney they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one

who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand: "TODAY MY

BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE."

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The

one, who had been slapped, got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friendsaved him. After the friend recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

"TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE."

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, youwrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied: "When someone hurts us, we should write it down in sand

where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something goodfor us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND, AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE



The Buzzard, The Bat, and the Bumblebee

If you put a buzzard in a pen six or eight feet square and entirely open at the

top, the bird, in spite of his ability to fly, will be an absolute prisoner. The

reason is that a buzzard always begins a flight from the ground with a run of ten

or twelve feet. Without space to run, as is his habit, he will not even attempt to

fly, but will remain a prisoner for life in a small jail with no top.

The ordinary bat that flies around at night, a remarkable nimble creature in the

air, cannot take off from a level place. If it is placed on the floor or flat ground,

all it can do is shuffle about helplessly and, no doubt, painfully, until it reaches

some slight elevation from which it can throw itself into the air. Then, at once,

it takes off like a flash.

A Bumblebee if dropped into an open tumbler will be there until it dies, unless

it is taken out. It never sees the means of escape at the top, but persists in trying

to find some way out through the sides near the bottom. It will seek a way

where none exists, until it completely destroys itself.

In many ways, there are lots of people like the buzzard, the bat and the bee.

They are struggling about with all their problems and frustrations, not realizing

that the answer is right there above them.



EAGLES IN A STORM

Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long

before it breaks?

The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come. When

the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it

above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it.

The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it

higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.

When the storms of life come upon us - and all of us will experience them -

we can rise above them by setting our minds and our belief toward God.

The storms do not have to overcome us. We can allow God's power to liftus above them.

God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that bring sickness, tragedy,

failure and disappointment in our lives. We can soar above the storm.

Remember, it is not the burdens of life that weigh us down, it is how we

handle them.



The Praying Hands

Below is a touching story about DURERS Praying Hands that is

circulated widely.

It tells of DURER doing his creation in appreciation of a brother

who went to work in the mines to support Albrecht's education.

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with

eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob,the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost

eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the

neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer

the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art,

but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send

either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally

worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby

mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy.

Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, hewould support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or,

if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the

toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and,

for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost

an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far

http://www.indianchild.com/praying_hands.htm










better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was

beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive

dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long

and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from hishonored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for

the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing

words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now

you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert

sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side

while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the

long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek,he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ...

look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger

have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so

badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much

less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No,

brother ...

for me it is too late."

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of

masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts,

and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds aregreat that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's

works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a

reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer

painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers

stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire

world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed

his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Letit be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!













short inspirational Parable Of The Pencil - Pencil story

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.

"There are 5 things you need to know," he told the pencil, "Before I send

you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and youwill become the best pencil you can be."

"One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allowyourself to be held in Someone's hand."

"Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'llneed it to become a better pencil."

"Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make."

"Four: The most important part of you will always be what's inside."

"And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark.No matter what the condition, you must continue to write."

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the boxwith purpose in its heart.

Now replacing the place of the pencil with you. Always remember themand never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allowyourself to be held in God's hand. And allow other human beings to accessyou for the many gifts you possess.

Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by goingthrough various problems in life, but you'll need it to become a stronger person.



Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.

Four: The most important part of you will always be what's on the inside.

And Five: On every surface you walk through, you must leave your mark.No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties.

Allow this parable on the pencil to encourage you to know that you are aspecial person and only you can fulfill the purpose to which you were bornto accomplish.

Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life isinsignificant and cannot make a change.



Motivating story to read - Another man's folly

.......He paid the price for another man’s

folly.

One life gone, 2 people dead !

A mother is devastated, she is howling with pain, yelling all she can in that

dark and dingy corner of her four by four kholi. There was nobody to hear

her yell and not a soul to pacify her, because outside her shack is a long

winding lonely road. There was no existence of mankind for miles and miles

ahead. The wind was at rest, the leaves didn’t rustle and no resonance of a

barking dog, silence filled the air. Loneliness was already killing her, but no

one knows what made her cry?

Losing something you love with all your heart isn’t really the grief you can

ever overcome. Radha lost her baby. Her only means to live. She saw her

child getting crushed under a car in front of her own eyes. Blood was all over

and the accident was terrible. One lonely night, she was walking down the

street t get a breath of fresh air with her child cuddled tight in her arms.

She walked a long time s till she saw the face of mankind (in the evilestform).

The whole time she walked with her child in her arms the only thing that

worried her was Aryans (her son’s) future. What kind of a person will he be?

http://www.indianchild.com/nisha.htm

http://www.indianchild.com/nisha.htm



Will he make me proud? How much light is life going to bring in his

existence? She was imagining and feeling every day of the Childs growth,

and what she had in store for him. But who knows what’s in store for us

tomorrow, life can change in the splits of a second. Talk about destiny, all

those dreams hopes and expectations were snatched away from her in aninstant. Her smiles were frowns and her faith just crumbled, like a deal soul

in a living, rather breathing body.

This is how it happened…. On that abandoned road, were a few streetlights

barely sufficient? There was this one light that was visible from a distance,

but as it came closer it got brighter and brighter. That light changed radha’s

life into darkness forever. A speeding car came down that road, as if the

driver had jammed the accelerator, cutting across the wind. He came at aspeek of 110kmph throwing beer bottles out of his half open window. He was

definitely drunk, the speed took everything in its path. Just then, there was

a loud cry, and silence set in again. The cry of a baby and no sight of a child.

Ironically the mother wasn’t hurt, not a scratch on a body, not a bruise on

her arm. She opened her eyes and didn’t she Aryan, her vision was blur.

After a few minutes when her sight cleared up she looked all over frantically

for her baby, but alas! There was nothing. Just then she noticed something

about then feet away it was blood draining into the gutter’s, and pieces of

minced flesh, laying there saying so much without saying anything at all. The

blood of her baby, the child who hadn’t even seen life,

He paid the price for another man’s folly. The same little child whose future

was just being planned.

Simple, don’t drink and drive. You could take a life,

but kill a number of people.



inspiring love story - The Rose Within

A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he

examined it.

He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he

thought, "How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many

sharp thorns? Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and just

before it was ready to bloom... it died.

So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God-like qualities

planted in us at birth, grow amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at

ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects.

We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to

water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.

Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to

them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the

thorns of another, and find the rose within them.

This is one of the characteristic of love... to look at a person, know their

true faults and accepting that person into your life... all the while

recognizing the nobility in their soul. Help others to realize they canovercome their faults. If we show them the "rose" within themselves, they

will conquer their thorns. Only then will they blossom many times over.

http://www.indianchild.com/rose_within.htm







Building Your House

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave thehouse-building business to live a more leisurely life with his wife and enjoy his extended family.He would miss the paycheck each week, but he wanted to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go & asked if he could build just one more houseas a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but over time it was easy to see that his heart wasnot in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was anunfortunate way to end a dedicated career.

When the carpenter finished his work, his employer came to inspect the house. Then he handedthe front-door key to the carpenter and said, "This is your house... my gift to you."

The carpenter was shocked!

What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all sodifferently.

So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting less than our best into thebuilding. Then, with a shock, we realize we have to live in the house we have built. If we could doit over, we would do it much differently.

But, you cannot go back. You are the carpenter, and every day you hammer a nail, place a board,or erect a wall. Someone once said, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Your attitude, and thechoices you make today, help build the "house" you will live in tomorrow. Therefore, Build wisely!



Story of the year

Mountain Story - An interesting short story

"A son and his father were walking on the mountains.Suddenly, his son falls, hurts himself and screams: "AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"To his surprise, he hears the voice repeating, somewhere in the mountain:

"AAAhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"Curious, he yells: "Who are you?"

He receives the answer: "Who are you?"And then he screams to the mountain: "I admire you!"

The voice answers: "I admire you!"Angered at the response, he screams: "Coward!"

He receives the answer: "Coward!"

He looks to his father and asks: "What's going on?"The father smiles and says: "My son, pay attention."

Again the man screams: "You are a champion!"The voice answers: "You are a champion!"

The boy is surprised, but does not understand.Then the father explains: "People call this ECHO, but really this is LIFE.

It gives you back everything you say or do.Our life is simply a reflection of our actions.

If you want more love in the world, create more love in your heart.If you want more competence in your team, improve your competence.

This relationship applies to everything, in all aspects of life;

Life will give you back everything you have given to it."

YOUR LIFE IS NOT A COINCIDENCE. IT'S A REFLECTION OF YOU!"-- Unknown Author

http://www.indianchild.com/mountain_story.htm








There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most andadorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her

and gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He's very proud of her and always wanted toshow off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that shemight run away with some other men.

He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and infact is the merchant's confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he

always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide himthrough difficult times.

Now, the merchant's 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made greatcontributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the

household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved

him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.

One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon.He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, "Now I have 4 wives with me. But

when I die, I'll be alone. How lonely I'll be!"

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you most, endowed you with the finest clothingand showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep

me company?" "No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another

word.

The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant's heart. The sad merchant

then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I'mdying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is

so good over here! I'm going to remarry when you die!" The merchant's heart sankand turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, "I always turned to you for help and you've alwayshelped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep

me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife. "At

http://www.indianchild.com/4_wives.htm

http://www.indianchild.com/4_wives.htm



the very most, I can only send you to your grave." The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.

Then a voice called out : "I'll leave with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go."

The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost likeshe suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, "I should have

taken much better care of you while I could have !"

Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives

a. The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making

it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

b. Our 3rd wife ? Our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to

others.

c. The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been therefor us when we're alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

d. The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth

and sensual pleasure.



Inspirational Stories - #1

The Cab Ride

by Kent Nerburn

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone

who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I

drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, satbehind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose

lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed Iwas being sent to pick up some partiers,or someone who had just had a fight with a lover,

or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a groundfloor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice,

wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who

depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my

assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged



across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood

before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like

somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartmentlooked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the

corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then

returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my

passengers the way I would want my mother treated". "Oh, you're such a good boy", she

said. When we got in the cab, she gave me and address, then asked, "Could you drive

through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. "Oh, I don't mind,"she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left,"

she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" Iasked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she

had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where sheand her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a

furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sitstaring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's gonow."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a smallconvalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out

to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every

move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated

in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her

purse."Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held

onto me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. Itwas the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the

rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or



one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had

honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done

anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolvearound great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped

in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU

SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.


Just A Few Drops

Author Unknown

It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month.The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long

gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers beforeit was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous

process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut

everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon... we would lose everything.

It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle

I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his

brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn'twalking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could

only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort...trying to be as still as

possible.

Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the

house. I went back to making sandwiches, thinking that whatever task he had been doing

was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slowpurposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour. He would walk

carefully to the woods, run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I

crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be



seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need his Mommy checking

up on him).

He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked, being very careful not to spill

the water he held in them...maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I

sneaked close as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face buthe did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him,

I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right

up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlerswas dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy

knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from

dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped

in my beautiful boy's hand.

When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a

tree. I followed him back to the house, to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy

opened it all the way up and a small trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting thedrip, drip slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. And

it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received about the importance of not wasting water. The

reason he didn't ask me to help him.

It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and beganthe trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not

wasting," was all he said.

As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him

tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job.

I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known

working so hard to save another life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit

the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops...and more. Ilooked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.

Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't

really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm notgoing to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the

actions of one little boy saved another.

I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it.... To honor the memory of my

beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon.... but not before showing me the

true face of God, in a little sunburned body.



Ice Cream For The Soul

Author Unknown

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say

grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for thefood, and I would even thank you more if mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty

and justice for all! Amen."

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark,"That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking

God for ice-cream! Why, I never! "Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me,

"Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had donea terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the

table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great

prayer." "Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart."

Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started

this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is goodfor the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a

moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up hissundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big

smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my

soul is good already.




The Empty Egg

Author Unknown

Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of 12 he was still in

second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, often becameexasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At

other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the

darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.

One day she called his parents and asked them to come in for a consultation. As the

Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a

special school. It isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learningproblems. Why, there is a five year gap between his age and that of the other students."

Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke. "Miss Miller," he said,"there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had

to take him out of this school. We know he really likes it here." Doris sat for a long time

after they had left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seepinto her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had

a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters

to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and

write. Why waste any more time trying?

As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am complaining when my



problems are nothing compared to that poor family, she thought. Lord, please help me to

be more patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises

and his blank stares. Then one day, he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behindhim.

"I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole class to hear. Theother students snickered, and Doris' face burned red. She stammered, "Wh-why that's

very nice, Jeremy. N-now please take your seat."

Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told

them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she

gave each of the children a large plastic egg. "Now," she said to them, "I want you to take

this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do youunderstand?"

"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded enthusiastically-all except for Jeremy. He

listened intently. His eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Hadhe understood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand

the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them.

That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour

for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a

blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot aboutphoning Jeremy's parents.

The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. After they completed their math

lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the first egg, Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a

flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground,we know that spring is here." A small girl in the first row waved her arm. "That's my egg,

Miss Miller," she called out. The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked

very real. Doris held it up. "We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into abeautiful butterfly. Yes, that's new life, too." Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss

Miller, that one is mine." Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that

moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom, "My daddy helped

me," he beamed.

Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty. Surely it must be

Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only shehad not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she

quietly set the egg aside and reached for another. Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. "Miss

Miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?" Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy,your egg is empty." He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was

empty, too."

Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you know why the



tomb was empty?" "Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed and put in there. Then His

Father raised Him up."

The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the schoolyard, Doris cried.

The cold inside her melted completely away.

Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were

surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket....... all of them empty.

A MOTHERS LOVE



By unknown Author

A little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while

she was fixing supper, and handed her a piece of paper that he had

been writing on. After his Mom dried her hands on an apron, she readit, and this is what it said:

For cutting the grass: $5.00For cleaning up my room this week: $1.00For going to the store for you: $.50Baby-sitting my kid brother while you went shopping: $.25Taking out the garbage: $1.00For getting a good report card: $5.00

For cleaning up and raking the yard: $2.00Total owed: $14.75

Well, his mother looked at him standing there, and the boy could see the memoriesflashing through her mind. She picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'dwritten on, and this is what she wrote:

For the nine months I carried you while you were growing inside me:

No Charge

For all the nights that I've sat up with you, doctored and prayed for you:No Charge

For all the trying times, and all the tears that you've caused through the years:

No Charge

For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead:No Charge

For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose:

No Charge

Son, when you add it up, the cost of my love is:

No Charge.

When the boy finished reading what his mother had written, there were big tears in

his eyes, and he looked straight at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you."And then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote: "PAID IN FULL".

Lessons:

• You will never how much your parents worth till you become a parent • Be a giver not an asker, especially with your parents. there is a lot to give,

besides money.



Advice: IF your mom is alive and close to you, give her a big kiss and ask her forforgiveness. If she is far away, call her. if she passed away, pray for her.

Inspirational Story - #5

ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING

Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always

had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he

would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"

He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around

from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his

attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was

there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I

don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?"

Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices

today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' Ichoose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a

victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone

comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out thepositive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy", I protested.

"Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every

situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people

will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line:It's your choice how you live life."

I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my

own business. We lost touch, but often thought about him when I made a choice about

life instead of reacting to it.

Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a

restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning, and was held up at gunpoint

by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking fromnervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily,

Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center.

After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the

hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins.

Wanna see my scars?"



I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the

robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have

locked the back door", Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I hadtwo choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live.

"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?", I asked.

Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine.

But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on thefaces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man'.

I knew I needed to take action."

"What did you do?", I asked.

"Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me", said Jerry. She asked if I

was allergic to anything. "Yes", I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as

they waited for my reply... I took a deep breath and yelled, "Bullets!" Over their laughter,I told them, "I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead."

Jerry lived, thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I

learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, iseverything.

An Agreeable Friend Author: William Lyon Phelps

When I was eight years old and was spending a weekend visiting my Aunt Libby at her home, a middle agedman called one evening and after a polite skirmish with my aunt, he devoted his attention to me.

At that time, I happened to be excited about boats; the visitor discussed the subject in a way that seemed tome particularly interesting.

After he left, I spoke of him with enthusiasm. "What a man! And how tremendously interested in boats!" Myaunt informed me he was a New York businessman and that he cared nothing whatever about boats, tooknot the slightest interest in the subject.

"But why then did he talk all the time about boats?" "Because he is a gentleman. He saw you wereinterested in boats, and he talked about the things he knew would interest and please you. He made himself

agreeable". I never forgot my aunt's remark.

More thoughts on friendship:"My coat and I live comfortably together. It has assumed all my wrinkles, does not hurt me anywhere, hasmoulded itself on my deformities , and is complacent to all my movements , and I only feel its presencebecause it keeps me warm. Old coats and old friends are the same thing." Victor Hugo

"Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which strengthens with the setting sun of life." La Fontaine

http://www.wow4u.com/favoritefriendshipquotes/index.html





"To be a friend a man should go more than halfway with his fellow men; he should greet others first and not wait to be greeted." Wilferd A. Peterson

"If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; if I can ease one life the aching, or cool any pain, or help one fainting robin unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain." Emily Dickinson

A Motivational story about PositiveThinking

by: Unknown

Read this, and let it really sink in... Then, choose how you start your daytomorrow...

Jerry is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always

has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he

would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" He was a unique managerbecause he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to

restaurant.

The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a naturalmotivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the

employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked

him, I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?"Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two

choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in abad mood.

I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose tobe a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time

someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can

point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life.

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all aboutchoices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how

you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose tobe in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."

I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to startmy own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a

choice about life instead of reacting to it.

Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do

in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at



gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shakingfrom nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him.

Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center.After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the

hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.

I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, hereplied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to seehis wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took

place. “The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked theback door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two

choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live."

"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "...theparamedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they

wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors andnurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man.'

I knew I needed to take action." " What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a bigburly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to

anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited formy reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them,

'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead.'"

Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude.I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all,

is everything.

Positive thinking the the first step towards a happy life.

Attitude is everything

If everyone applies just these, the whole world will live in happiness

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