Sunday, December 12, 2010
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 had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him for a few minutes. It didn't take 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 the 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. Grownups 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 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
During 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 with 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, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. 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 great 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, until I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining 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.
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 had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him for a few minutes. It didn't take 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 the 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. Grownups 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 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
During 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 with 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, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. 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 great 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, until I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining 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.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby. But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student. Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.
Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he'd always say, "My mom's going to hear me play someday." But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in.
Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons. I thought about calling him but assumed, because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed to the student's homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mom had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing. "Miss Hondorf... I've just got to play!" he insisted. I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right.
The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my "curtain closer."
Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he'd run an eggbeater through it. "Why didn't he dress up like the other students?" I thought. "Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?"
Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on pianissimo to fortissimo...from allegro to virtuoso.
His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by a person his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause. Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy. "I've never heard you play like that Robby! How'd you do it?" Through the microphone Robby explained: "Well Miss Hondorf...remember I told you my mom was sick? Well, actually she had cancer and passed away this morning. And well....she was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special." There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil. No, I've never had a protigi but that night I became a protigi... of Robby's. He was the teacher and I was the pupil. For it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don't know why.
(A footnote to this story) After serving in Desert Storm, Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly....playing the piano.
Friday, August 27, 2010
As far back as I can remember, the pickle jar sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar. As a small boy, I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then, the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled.
I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank. Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.
Each and every time as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. "Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back." Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly "These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work at the mill all his life like me."
We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. "When we get home, we'll start filling the jar again." He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief happy jingle, we grinned at each other. "You'll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters," he said. "But you'll get there. I'll see to that."
The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed. A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith.
The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me.
No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from the mill and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar. To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make a way out for me. "When you finish college, Son," he told me, his eyes glistening, "You'll never have to eat beans again - unless you want to."
The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms. "She probably needs to be changed," she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her.
When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes. She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. "Look," she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
"How much is an ice cream sundae?"
"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.
The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the number of coins in it.
"How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired.
Some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress was a bit impatient.
"Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely.
The little boy again counted the coins.
"I'll have the plain ice cream," he said.
The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed.
When the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed hard at what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies - her tip
Thursday, August 26, 2010
One more story for the day........ after reading this story I can't wait to make it a part of Story Time............................. 
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!" also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully.
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.' I choose 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 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 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 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 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 gunpoint by three armed robbers.
While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from 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, 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 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, "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 the faces 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
Attitude, after all, is everything.
Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a space in the cold basement.
As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied... "Things aren't always what they seem".
The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.
The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel "how could you have let this happen!? The first man had everything, yet you helped him," she accused. "The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let their cow die."
"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave her the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."
Sometimes this is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You might not know it until some time later.
One day a farmer's donkey fell into an abandoned well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided the animal was too old and the well needed to be covered up anyway; so it just wasn't worth it to him to try to retrieve the donkey.
He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They each grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. Realizing what was happening, the donkey at first cried and wailed horribly.
Then, a few shovel-fulls later, he quieted down completely. The farmer peered down into the well, and was astounded by what he saw. With every shovel-full of dirt that hit his back, the donkey would shake it off and take a step up on the new layer of dirt.
As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off, to the shock and astonishment of everyone.
The Moral: Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to stop wailing, and not let the dirt bury you, but to shake it off and take a step up. Each one of our troubles is a stepping-stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
He met her at a party. She was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her, while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him.
At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, "Please, let me go home..."
Suddenly he asked the waiter, "Would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, "Why you have this hobby?" He replied, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there." While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home... Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.
That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, and then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that's the way he liked it.
After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life's lie. This was the only lie I said to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything... Now I'm dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth, I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste... But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again."
Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her, "What's the taste of salty coffee?" She replied, "It's sweet."
At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised but due to being polite, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, and she thought to herself, "Please, let me go home..."
Suddenly he asked the waiter, "Would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee." Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red but still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously, "Why you have this hobby?" He replied, "When I was a little boy, I lived near the sea, I liked playing in the sea, I could feel the taste of the sea, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I always think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who are still living there." While saying that tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart. A man who can tell out his homesickness, he must be a man who loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home... Then she also started to speak, spoke about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family.
That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continued to date. She found that actually he was a man who meets all her demands; he had tolerance, was kind hearted, warm, careful. He was such a good person but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee! Then the story was just like every beautiful love story, the princess married to the prince, and then they were living the happy life... And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that's the way he liked it.
After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said, "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life's lie. This was the only lie I said to you---the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It was hard for me to change so I just went ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything... Now I'm dying, I afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth, I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste... But I have had the salty coffee for my whole life! Since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life. If I can live for the second time, still want to know you and have you for my whole life, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again."
Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her, "What's the taste of salty coffee?" She replied, "It's sweet."
The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle and, fascinated with its color, drank it all. It happened to be a poisonous medicine meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed, the mother hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She was terrified how to face her husband.
When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child, he looked at his wife and uttered just four words.
What do you think were the four words?
The husband just said "I Love You Darling"
The husband's totally unexpected reaction is proactive behavior. The child is dead. He can never be brought back to life. There is no point in finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he have taken time to keep the bottle away, this will not have happened. No
point in attaching blame. She had also lost her only child. What she needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.
Sometimes we spend time asking who is responsible or who to blame, whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. We miss out some warmth in human relationship in giving each other support. After all, shouldn't forgiving someone we love be the easiest thing in the world to do? Treasure what you have. Don't multiply pain, anguish and suffering by holding on to forgiveness.
If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would be much fewer problems in the world.
Take off all your envies, jealousies, unwillingness to forgive, selfishness, and fears and you will find things are actually not as difficult as you think.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Rutali married Hitesh this day. At the end of the wedding party,
Rutali's mother gave her a newly opened bank saving passbook with
Rs.1000 deposit amount.
Mother: 'Rutali, take this passbook. Keep it as a record of your marriage life.
When there's something happy and memorable happened in your new life,
put some money in.
Write down what it's about next to the line. The more memorable the
event is, the more money you can put in.
I've done the first one for you today. Do the others with Hitesh.
When you look back after years, you can know how much happiness you've had.'
Rutali shared this with Hitesh when getting home.
They both thought it was a great idea and were anxious to know when
the second deposit can be made.
This was what they did after certain time:
- 7 Feb: Rs.100, first birthday celebration for Hitesh after marriage
- 1 Mar: Rs.300, salary raise for Rutali
- 20 Mar: Rs.200, vacation trip to Bali
- 15 Apr: Rs.2000, Rutali got pregnant
- 1 Jun: Rs.1000, Hitesh got promoted
..... and so on...
However, after years, they started fighting and arguing for trivial
things. They didn't talk much.
They regretted that they had married the nastiest people in the
world.... no more love...Kind of typical nowadays, huh?
One day Rutali talked to her Mother:
'Mom, we can't stand it anymore. We agree to divorce. I can't imagine how
I decided to marry this guy!!!'
Mother: 'Sure, girl, that's no big deal. Just do whatever you want if
you really can't stand it. But before that, do one thing first.
Remember the saving passbook I gave you on your wedding day? Take out
all money and spend it first.
You shouldn't keep any record of such a poor marriage.'
Rutali thought it was true. So she went to the bank, waiting at the
queue and planning to cancel the account.
While she was waiting, she took a look at the passbook record. She
looked, and looked, and looked.
Then the memory of all the previous joy and happiness just came up her
mind. Her eyes were then filled with tears. She left and went home.
When she was home, she handed the passbook to Hitesh, asked him to
spend the money before getting divorce.
The next day, Hitesh gave the passbook back to Rutali. She found a new
deposit of Rs.5000.
And a line next to the record: 'This is the day I notice how much I've
loved you thru out all these years. How much happiness you've brought
me.'
They hugged and cried, putting the passbook back to the safe.
Do you know how much money they had saved when they retired? I did not
ask. I believe the money did not matter any more after they had gone
thru all the good years in their life.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
One night a guy and girl were driving home from the movies. The boy sensed there was something wrong because of the painful silence they shared between them that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over because she wanted to talk. She told him that her feelings had changed and that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he slowly reached into his pocket and passed her a folded note. At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down that very same street. He swerved right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she pulled it out and read it.
" Without your love, I would die."
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Once upon a time, there was a little boy, his name was Ben. On his first birthday, his parents got him a soft cuddly brown teddy bear. The little baby boy carried his teddy bear with him every where he went. At night the teddy bear always got to sleep next to the baby boy in his crib.
Ben grew up and got his own bedroom and a big bed to sleep in. The teddy bear got to sleep next to him in bed every night. He was his favorite toy. Ben took his teddy bear everywhere he went. The teddy bear went with the boy to the zoo, all the parks in the area, and even to school.
Ben became a teenager and he got more and more interested in video games, and going out with his friends. He stopped taking his teddy bear with him, which made the bear a little bit sad. Still, he would put his teddy bear next to him in bed every night.
Then Ben started going camping with his friends. He would spend a few nights at a time at camp. The teddy bear missed his friend a lot on those days. When Ben was back from camping he would still remember his favorite toy and bring it to bed with him.
Ben graduated from high school and had to go to a university in the big city. The boy was now a young man. He would come back home a couple of times every year for just a few days. Mom took all of Ben's toys and put them in a big box in the attic. But, the teddy bear was always special so Mom decided to put him on one of the empty shelves so that when Ben was back home to visit he could see his favorite bear. Ben's visits were too short and he spent most of his time visiting with his old friends, neighbors, and family. He would go to bed late at night, and often forgot to put the bear in bed anymore. The bear was so sad and missed the nice old days when he got to sleep every night next to Ben in his bed.
Ben, now a young man, graduated from the university and got a job in the big city. He had his own place there and would only come to visit for a few hours on the weekends. Some weekends the teddy bear would not even get to see his friend. The teddy bear was so lonely. Many nights, he would sit alone crying in the dark, and dreaming of the days when he went everywhere with his friend and slept every night next to him. He always hoped that his friend would come to take him back to the big city, but it never happened.
Ben met a very nice woman who worked with him and they both liked each other. They decided to get married, and after a year they had a little baby boy of their own. They loved their baby a lot and often brought him over to his grandparents' house. The baby boy was just as cute as his father had been when he was a baby.
One day Ben remembered his favorite teddy bear and thought that his own little baby would love to have it. He ran to his old room, went straight to the shelf and grabbed his old friend the teddy bear. The bear was thrilled that his old friend had come to visit him, but could not imagine the nice surprise that awaited him. When Ben gave his old bear to his baby boy to play with, the baby was so happy he wouldn't leave it alone for the rest of the day. At the end of the day, Ben and his family said goodbye to his parents and went to their own cozy home. This time the teddy bear came with them. That night, and every night after that, the teddy bear got to sleep next to the baby boy in his crib. Just like his father, the baby boy would take the teddy bear with him every where he went. The teddy bear was so happy. Now he had a new family that loved him. His old friend and his new family loved him just as much as they possibly could.
Ben grew up and got his own bedroom and a big bed to sleep in. The teddy bear got to sleep next to him in bed every night. He was his favorite toy. Ben took his teddy bear everywhere he went. The teddy bear went with the boy to the zoo, all the parks in the area, and even to school.
Ben became a teenager and he got more and more interested in video games, and going out with his friends. He stopped taking his teddy bear with him, which made the bear a little bit sad. Still, he would put his teddy bear next to him in bed every night.
Then Ben started going camping with his friends. He would spend a few nights at a time at camp. The teddy bear missed his friend a lot on those days. When Ben was back from camping he would still remember his favorite toy and bring it to bed with him.
Ben graduated from high school and had to go to a university in the big city. The boy was now a young man. He would come back home a couple of times every year for just a few days. Mom took all of Ben's toys and put them in a big box in the attic. But, the teddy bear was always special so Mom decided to put him on one of the empty shelves so that when Ben was back home to visit he could see his favorite bear. Ben's visits were too short and he spent most of his time visiting with his old friends, neighbors, and family. He would go to bed late at night, and often forgot to put the bear in bed anymore. The bear was so sad and missed the nice old days when he got to sleep every night next to Ben in his bed.
Ben, now a young man, graduated from the university and got a job in the big city. He had his own place there and would only come to visit for a few hours on the weekends. Some weekends the teddy bear would not even get to see his friend. The teddy bear was so lonely. Many nights, he would sit alone crying in the dark, and dreaming of the days when he went everywhere with his friend and slept every night next to him. He always hoped that his friend would come to take him back to the big city, but it never happened.
Ben met a very nice woman who worked with him and they both liked each other. They decided to get married, and after a year they had a little baby boy of their own. They loved their baby a lot and often brought him over to his grandparents' house. The baby boy was just as cute as his father had been when he was a baby.
One day Ben remembered his favorite teddy bear and thought that his own little baby would love to have it. He ran to his old room, went straight to the shelf and grabbed his old friend the teddy bear. The bear was thrilled that his old friend had come to visit him, but could not imagine the nice surprise that awaited him. When Ben gave his old bear to his baby boy to play with, the baby was so happy he wouldn't leave it alone for the rest of the day. At the end of the day, Ben and his family said goodbye to his parents and went to their own cozy home. This time the teddy bear came with them. That night, and every night after that, the teddy bear got to sleep next to the baby boy in his crib. Just like his father, the baby boy would take the teddy bear with him every where he went. The teddy bear was so happy. Now he had a new family that loved him. His old friend and his new family loved him just as much as they possibly could.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
In 1883, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.
Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.
Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.
The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.
"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."
Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.
He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.
It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.
He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.
For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.
Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.
Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.
Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence
Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.
Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.
The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to walk or talk or even move.
"We told them so."
"Crazy men and their crazy dreams."
"It`s foolish to chase wild visions."
Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built. In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever.
He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task. As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.
It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.
He touched his wife's arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.
For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife's arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man's indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.
Perhaps this is one of the best examples of a never-say-die attitude that overcomes a terrible physical handicap and achieves an impossible goal.
Often when we face obstacles in our day-to-day life, our hurdles seem very small in comparison to what many others have to face. The Brooklyn Bridge shows us that dreams that seem impossible can be realised with determination and persistence, no matter what the odds are.
Even the most distant dream can be realized with determination and persistence
Monday, July 12, 2010
Once upon a time, a cheerful ladybug was in the park hopping from one flower to another and enjoying the nice sunny day. The ladybug was a very curious, and liked to check out anything new.
The ladybug flew across the road to look at the row of homes across from the park. Each home had a little yard with plenty of flowers. Her favorite flowers were the red roses and so she went to the yard that had the most. "Mmmmmm" she went as she started munching. "Such beautiful and delicious roses" she thought.
While she was enjoying herself and hopping from on red rose to another, she noticed the front door opening and a man leaving the house. He left the door cracked open as he gathered his things, so the ladybug flew in. On her way in she almost bumped into a woman who was heading out. The woman walked out the door and slammed it shut. Oops, the ladybug was stuck inside!
The ladybug didn't care at first. She wanted to look around and explore. She flew into the bedroom, it was tidy and nice. She then flew to the bathroom and found it very boring so she left right away. Then she flew into the kitchen where she nibbled on some crumbs she found on the table. She also licked a spot of maple syrup she found on the table.
Now that the ladybug had seen everything she was ready to leave. But how could she when all the doors and windows were closed. So the ladybug decided to wait until the people came home so that she could fly out the crack again as they came in.
She waited, and waited until she got tired of waiting and got hungry too. She decided to fly back to the kitchen to take another lick of the maple syrup on the table. "Yum" she thought as she slurped up some maple syrup, "Mmmm". But just then the man and woman came home and shut the door behind them. The ladybug had missed her chance.
She would have to try again the next day, she though as she hid under the lampshade in the living room, right next to the door. The man and woman went to bed and the ladybug fell asleep under the lampshade. She was so tired and it had been a long day. She was sleeping very deeply, having lovely ladybug dreams, when she heard the door opening and closing. "What happened?" she thought, “How could I have missed them again?" It seems she was so tired that she didn't even hear them wake up, get dressed, and head out to work.
"Why do they have to leave for work so early?" thought the ladybug. "Now I'll probably never make it out" then she flew off to the kitchen to eat some more of the left over crumbs that she found. She found some muffin crumbs that tasted very good and was lucky enough to find a small drop of orange juice that she licked up happily. "That was a really great breakfast" she said to herself, "but now I need to concentrate on finding out how to get out of this place and get back home. My family must be worried about me by now."
She looked around everywhere. She was hoping there was a cracked window or a hole in the wall, but she couldn't find any. She tried to squeeze under the door, but there just wasn't enough room. She just had to wait….again!
This time she would not go to the kitchen, she would not rest or sleep either. She would just wait…and she did, for a long, long time. But the man and his wife did not go back home right away after work. Instead they decided to go out for dinner, and they stayed out late. The ladybug waited till it was very dark and she was so tired. She gave up on them coming back and fell asleep.
At about midnight the couple came back home. The ladybug woke up on the door slamming shut and saw the man and the woman walking in. Then she waited until they went to bed and fell asleep.
The ladybug decided not to wait until the morning to do something. She did not want to fall asleep again and miss them leaving in the morning. She had thought of hiding in the woman's purse, but the purse was closed shut and she was unable to get in.
Then she thought of the man's wallet, but she feared that when he put his wallet in his pants he might sit on her and squish her. She needed someplace to hide where she wouldn't be seen, but she also needed it to be something that the man or woman would take with them when they left the house.
Then she noticed the man's hat. "That would be a perfect place," she thought. "I can hide inside the hat, all the way inside. Hopefully he won't shove his hat on really hard and squish me." Then she crawled to the topmost part of the hat and waited till the morning.
In the morning the couple got dressed and went to work, but the man left his hat! The man and woman walked out but the hat stayed…with the ladybug inside! Poor ladybug.The man had forgotten his hat and when he noticed that he did he returned to the house to get it. The ladybug was still inside it although she was just about to get out. The man took the hat and gently placed it on his head. The ladybug sighed with relief. Then she realized something. How was she going to get out from under the hat unless the man took it off? The ladybug sure wasn't ready to wait any longer. She had already waited for two days to go back to her family and she wanted to go to them now. So, the ladybug jumped on the man's bald head and started tickling him on his scalp. The man felt his head starting to tickle and took his hat off to itch it. At that very moment the ladybug was ready and she flew out to freedom. "Free at last" she cried! And then she flew back home to her very worried family.
The ladybug flew across the road to look at the row of homes across from the park. Each home had a little yard with plenty of flowers. Her favorite flowers were the red roses and so she went to the yard that had the most. "Mmmmmm" she went as she started munching. "Such beautiful and delicious roses" she thought.
While she was enjoying herself and hopping from on red rose to another, she noticed the front door opening and a man leaving the house. He left the door cracked open as he gathered his things, so the ladybug flew in. On her way in she almost bumped into a woman who was heading out. The woman walked out the door and slammed it shut. Oops, the ladybug was stuck inside!
The ladybug didn't care at first. She wanted to look around and explore. She flew into the bedroom, it was tidy and nice. She then flew to the bathroom and found it very boring so she left right away. Then she flew into the kitchen where she nibbled on some crumbs she found on the table. She also licked a spot of maple syrup she found on the table.
Now that the ladybug had seen everything she was ready to leave. But how could she when all the doors and windows were closed. So the ladybug decided to wait until the people came home so that she could fly out the crack again as they came in.
She waited, and waited until she got tired of waiting and got hungry too. She decided to fly back to the kitchen to take another lick of the maple syrup on the table. "Yum" she thought as she slurped up some maple syrup, "Mmmm". But just then the man and woman came home and shut the door behind them. The ladybug had missed her chance.
She would have to try again the next day, she though as she hid under the lampshade in the living room, right next to the door. The man and woman went to bed and the ladybug fell asleep under the lampshade. She was so tired and it had been a long day. She was sleeping very deeply, having lovely ladybug dreams, when she heard the door opening and closing. "What happened?" she thought, “How could I have missed them again?" It seems she was so tired that she didn't even hear them wake up, get dressed, and head out to work.
"Why do they have to leave for work so early?" thought the ladybug. "Now I'll probably never make it out" then she flew off to the kitchen to eat some more of the left over crumbs that she found. She found some muffin crumbs that tasted very good and was lucky enough to find a small drop of orange juice that she licked up happily. "That was a really great breakfast" she said to herself, "but now I need to concentrate on finding out how to get out of this place and get back home. My family must be worried about me by now."
She looked around everywhere. She was hoping there was a cracked window or a hole in the wall, but she couldn't find any. She tried to squeeze under the door, but there just wasn't enough room. She just had to wait….again!
This time she would not go to the kitchen, she would not rest or sleep either. She would just wait…and she did, for a long, long time. But the man and his wife did not go back home right away after work. Instead they decided to go out for dinner, and they stayed out late. The ladybug waited till it was very dark and she was so tired. She gave up on them coming back and fell asleep.
At about midnight the couple came back home. The ladybug woke up on the door slamming shut and saw the man and the woman walking in. Then she waited until they went to bed and fell asleep.
The ladybug decided not to wait until the morning to do something. She did not want to fall asleep again and miss them leaving in the morning. She had thought of hiding in the woman's purse, but the purse was closed shut and she was unable to get in.
Then she thought of the man's wallet, but she feared that when he put his wallet in his pants he might sit on her and squish her. She needed someplace to hide where she wouldn't be seen, but she also needed it to be something that the man or woman would take with them when they left the house.
Then she noticed the man's hat. "That would be a perfect place," she thought. "I can hide inside the hat, all the way inside. Hopefully he won't shove his hat on really hard and squish me." Then she crawled to the topmost part of the hat and waited till the morning.
In the morning the couple got dressed and went to work, but the man left his hat! The man and woman walked out but the hat stayed…with the ladybug inside! Poor ladybug.The man had forgotten his hat and when he noticed that he did he returned to the house to get it. The ladybug was still inside it although she was just about to get out. The man took the hat and gently placed it on his head. The ladybug sighed with relief. Then she realized something. How was she going to get out from under the hat unless the man took it off? The ladybug sure wasn't ready to wait any longer. She had already waited for two days to go back to her family and she wanted to go to them now. So, the ladybug jumped on the man's bald head and started tickling him on his scalp. The man felt his head starting to tickle and took his hat off to itch it. At that very moment the ladybug was ready and she flew out to freedom. "Free at last" she cried! And then she flew back home to her very worried family.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
I ran into a stranger as he passed by. "Oh, excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too; I wasn't even watching for you."
We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went on our way and we said good-bye.
But at home a different story is told, how we treat our loved ones, young and old.
Later that day, cooking the evening meal, my daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down. "Move out of the way," I said with a frown.
My daughter walked away, her little heart broken. I didn't realize how harshly I would spoken.
While I lay awake in bed, God's still small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger (society), common courtesy you use, but the children you love, you seem to abuse. Look on the kitchen floor, you will find some flowers there by the door. Those are the flowers your daughter brought for you. She picked them herself, pink, yellow and blue. Your daughter stood quietly not to spoil the surprise, and you never saw the tears in her eyes."
By this time, I felt very small, and now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed; "Wake up, little girl, wake up," I said.
"Are these the flowers you picked for me?" My daughter smiled, "I found them, out by the tree. I picked them because they are pretty like you. I knew you would like them, especially the blue."
I said, "Daughter, I am sorry for the way I acted today; I should not have yelled at you that way." My daughter said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway."
I said, "Daughter, I love you too, and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A father came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.
Son: "Father, may I ask you a question?"
Father replied: "Yeah sure, what it is?"
Son: "Father, how much do you make an hour?"
Father said angrily: "That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?"
Son: "I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?"
Father: "If you must know, I make $20 an hour."
"Oh," the little boy replied, with his head down. Looking up, he said, "Father, may I please borrow $10?"
The father was furious, "If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I work hard everyday for such childish behavior."
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. Father sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money? After about an hour or so, the father had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10 and he really didn't ask for money very often.
The father went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.
"Are you asleep, son?" Father asked.
"No Father, I am awake," replied the little boy.
"I have been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the father. "It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $10 you asked for."
The little boy sat straight up, smiling. "Oh, thank you Father!" He yelled.
Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills.
The father, seeing that the little boy already had money, started to get angry again.
The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.
"Why do you want more money if you already have some?" the father grumbled.
"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.
"Father, I have $20 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you."
Moral of the Story: Share this story with someone you like... But even better, share $20 worth of time with someone you love. It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life.
We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts.
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days.
But the family and friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family. An unwise investment indeed!
So what is the moral of the story?
Don't work too hard...and you know what the full word of FAMILY is?
FAMILY = (F)ATHER (A)ND (M)OTHER,(I)(L)OVE (Y)OU!
;;
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