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This topic comprises 3 pages: 1 2 3
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Author
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Topic: Inspiration Stories
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 04-23-2004 12:32 PM
Rated G ![[Smile]](smile.gif)
WORDS TO LIVE BY
Accept that some days you're the pigeon,
and some days you're the statue.
Always keep your words soft and sweet,
just in case you have to eat them.
Always read stuff that will make you look
good if you die in the middle of it.
Drive carefully. It's not only cars that
can be recalled by their maker.
Eat a live toad in the morning and nothing
worse will happen to you for the rest of the day.
If you can't be kind, at least have the
decency to be vague.
If you lend someone $20, and never see
that person again, it was probably worth it.
It may be that your sole purpose in life
is simply to serve as a warning to others.
Never buy a car you can't push.
Never put both feet in your mouth at the
same time, because then you don't
have a leg to stand on.
Nobody cares if you can't dance well.
Just get up and dance.
The early worm gets eaten by the bird,
so sleep late.
When everything's coming your way,
you're in the wrong lane.
Birthdays are good for you; the more
you have, the longer you live.
You may be only one person in the world,
but you may also be the world to one person.
Some mistakes are too much fun
to only make once.
Don't cry because it's over;
smile because it happened.
We could learn a lot from crayons:
some are sharp, some are pretty, some
are dull, some have weird names, and
all are different colors but they all
have to learn to live in the same box.
A truly happy person is one who can
enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Happiness comes through doors you
didn't even know you left open.
Have an awesome day, and know that
someone has thought about you today.... ![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 04-23-2004 12:39 PM
Rated G
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
1. The best way to get even is to forget...
2. Feed your faith and your doubts will starve to death...
3. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts...
4. Some folks wear their halos much too tight...
5. Some marriages are made in heaven, but they ALL have to be maintained on earth....
6. Unless you can create the WHOLE universe in 5 days, Then perhaps giving "advice" to God isn't such a good idea!
7. Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, and faith looks up...
8. Standing in the middle of the road is dangerous. You will get knocked down by the traffic from both ways.
9. Words are windows to the heart.
10. A skeptic is a person who when he sees the handwriting on the wall, claims it's a forgery.
11. It isn't difficult to make a mountain out of a molehill, just add a little dirt.
12. A successful marriage isn't finding the right person; it's being the right person.
13. The mighty oak tree was once a little nut that held its ground.
14. Too m any people offer God prayers with claw marks all over them.
15. The tongue must be heavy, indeed, because so few people can hold it.
16. To forgive is to set the prisoner free and then discover the prisoner was you.
17. You have to wonder about humans, they think God is dead and Elvis is alive!
18. It's all right to sit on your pity pot every now and again. Just be sure to flush when you are done.
19. You'll notice that a turtle only makes progress when it sticks out its neck...
20. If the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, you can bet the water bill is higher.
You are richer today if you have laughed, given, or forgiven!
"Anyone can catch your eye but it takes someone special to catch your heart"
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 10-24-2004 10:01 AM
Rated G George in Omaha
When my grandmother died, we traveled to a tiny country cemetery to bury her beside my grandfather.
Among those attending the funeral was a shabby figure in a dark, crumpled suit - too hot for the blazing August day.A dilapidated felt hat was clutched to his chest and tears followed the furrows of unshaven cheeks.
His name was Billy, and he had lived on the farm next to my grandparents.It was poor land.His family often went hungry,but they were proud and Billy used to carry an empty lunch pail to school rather than let anyone know there was no food at home.
He called for my father some mornings,setting his empty pail on the kitchen table where Grandmother was busily filling the family lunch pails.She would slyly fill his pail,too,and at school my father never noticed that Billy's lunch was the same as his.
She never told of the empty lunch pail and neither did Billy. But he tramped the mile to her graveside, still poor, still hungry, but determined to pay his last respects to Grandmother, who had filled his lunch pail but left his pride intact.
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 11-15-2004 01:18 PM
Rated G
Our Dash,This is beautiful,and so true.
I read of a man who stood to speak
t the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone,
From the beginning...to the end.
He noted that first came her date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
(1934 - 1998)
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth...
And now only those who loved her,
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
The cars...the house...the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard...
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what's true and real,
And always try to understand
The way other people feel
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile..
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy's being read
With your life's actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?
If you have received this,
it means that you are truly special
to the one that sent this to you.
I am glad that you're in my life and part of my dash.
It back to the one who sent it to you...
From My dash to yours.
Laugh long, live long,
Yesterday is history
Tomorrow is a mystery
Today is a GIFT
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 01-20-2005 11:29 AM
Rated G Diane in Reno
Robby's Night
True Story -- Worth Reading!!!
At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines,Iowa.I've always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons-something I've done for over 30 years.
Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical
ability.I've never had the pleasure of having a prodigy though I have taught some talented students.
However,I've also had my share of what I call "musically challenged" pupils.One such student was Robby.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 mother 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 the keys,they even danced nimbly on the ivories.He went from pianissimo to fortissimo.From allegro to virtuoso.His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people 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 prodigy but that night I became a prodigy.
...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.
Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P.Murrah
Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995..... And now, a footnote to the story.
If you are thinking about forwarding this message,you may be considering which people on your list aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message.The person that sent this to YOU believes that we all can make a difference.So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:Should we act with compassion or will we pass by the opportunity and,possibly,leave the world a bit colder in the process?
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 02-02-2005 07:41 AM
Rated G Ed in Aurora
A Carrot, an egg, or a cup of coffee
A young woman went to her mother and told her about
her life and how things were so hard for her. She did
not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up.
She was tired of fighting and struggling. It
seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.
Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three
pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon
the pots came to boil. In the first she placed
carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the
last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit
and boil, without saying a word.
In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners.
She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl.
She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl.
Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a
bowl.
Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do
you see?"
"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.
Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots.
She did and noted that they were soft. The mother
then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it.
After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard
boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to
sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its
rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it
mean, mother?"
Her mother explained that each of these objects had
faced the same adversity ... boiling water. Each
reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard,
and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to
the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The
egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had
protected its liquid interior, but after sitting
through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.
The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After
they were in the boiling water, they had changed the
water.
"Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When
adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond?
Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?"
Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems
strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and
become soft and lose my strength?
Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the
heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a
breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial,
have I become hardened and stiff? Does my
shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and
tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?
Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually
changes the hot water, the very circumstance that
brings the pain When the water gets hot, it releases
the fagrance and flavor. If you are like the bean,
when things are at their worst, you get better and
change the situation around you. When the hour is the
darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate
yourself to another level? How do you handle
adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?
May you have enough happiness to make you sweet,
enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to
keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the
best of everything; they just make the most of
everything that comes along their way. The brightest
future will always be based on a forgotten past; you
can't go forward in life until you let go of your past
failures and heartaches.
When you were born, you were crying and everyone
around you was smiling. Live your life so at the end,
you're the one who is smiling and everyone
around you is crying. You might want to send ths
message to those people who mean something to
you (I JUST DID); to those who have touched your life >
in one way or another; to those who make you smile
when you really need it; to those who make you see the
brighter side of things when you are really down; to
those whose friendship you appreciate; to those who
are so meaningful in your life.
If you don't send it, you will just miss out on the
opportunity to brighten someone's day with this
message!
It's easier to build a child than repair an adult.
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 03-03-2005 12:24 PM
Rated G ![[Wink]](wink.gif)
A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was "too crowded."
"I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so happy that they found room for her, and she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings. Her parents called for the kindhearted pastor who had befriended their daughter to handle the final arrangements.
As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled red purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note, scribbled in
childish handwriting, which read: "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School." For two years she had saved for this offering of love.
When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building.
But the story does not end there...
A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a wealthy Realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered to sell it to the little church for 57 cents.
Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00--a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.
When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300. And be sure to visit Temple University, where thousands of students are educated. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of beautiful children, built so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russel H. Conwell, author of the book, "Acres of Diamonds."
This is a true story, which goes to show WHAT GOD CAN DO WITH 57 CENTS.
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 03-08-2005 10:27 AM
Rated G Diane in Reno
A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully.Three times, even.The total had to be exactly perfect.No chance here for mistakes.Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment.Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise.Nothing.She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster! No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glasscounter.That did it!
And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice."I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.
Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone."He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle."
''I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.
His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"
We don't sell miracles here,little girl.I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said,softening a little.
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest.Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man.He stooped down and asked the little girl,"What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it,so I want to use my money."
How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.
One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly "And
it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to"
Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man."A dollar and eleven
cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.
" He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live.I want to see your brother and meet your parents.Let's see if I have the miracle you need."
That well dressed man was Dr.Carlton Armstrong,a surgeon,
specializing in neurosurgery.The operation was completed
without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again
and doing well.Mom and Dad were happily talking about the
chain of events that had led them to this place.
That surgery," her Mom whispered."was a real miracle.I wonder
how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew exactly
how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents ......
plus the faith of a little child. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law......A TRUE STORY
I know you'll keep the ball moving! Here it goes. Throw it back to someone who means something to you!
A ball is a circle, no beginning, no end. It keeps us together like our ! Circle of Friends.But the treasure inside for you to see is the treasure of friendship you've granted to me.
Today I pass the friendship ball to you.
Pass it on to someone who is a friend to you.
MY OATH TO YOU...
When you are sad....I will dry your tears.
When you are scared....I will comfort your fears.
When you are worried.....I will give you hope.
When you are confused.....I will help you cope.
And w! hen you are lost....And can't see the light.
I shall be your beacon.....Shining ever so bright.
This is my oath.....I pledge till the end.
Why you may ask?.....Because you're my friend.
Signed: GOD
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 03-10-2005 11:23 AM
Rated G
NICE STORY TO READ!!
I sat in my seat of the Boeing 767 waiting for everyone to hurry andstow their carry-ons and grab a seat so we could start,what I was sure to be,a long uneventful flight home. With the huge capacity and slow moving people taking their time to stuff luggage far too big for the overhead and never paying much attention to holding up the growing line behind them,I simply shook my head knowing that this flight was not
starting out very well.I was anxious to get home to see my loved ones so I was focused on "my" issues and just felt like standing up andyelling for some of these clowns to get their act together.I knew I couldn't say a word so I just thumbed thru the "Sky Mall" magazine from the seat pocket in front of me.You know it's really getting rough when you resort to the over priced,useless sky mall crap to break the monotony.
With everyone finally seated, we just sat there with the cabin door open and no one in any hurry to get us going,although we were well past the scheduled take off time. No wonder the airline industry is in trouble I told myself.Just then,the attendant came on the intercom to inform us all that we were being delayed.
The entire plane let out a collective groan.
She resumed speaking to say, "We are holding the aircraft for
some very special people who are on their way to the plane and the delay shouldn't be more than 5 minutes."
The word came after waiting six times as long as we were promised that;"I" was finally going to be on my way home.
Why the hoopla over "these" folks? I was expecting some celebrity or sport figure to be the reason for the hold up. Just get their butts in a seat and let's hit the gas I thought.
The attendant came back on the speaker to announce in a loud and excited voice that we were being joined by several U. S. Marines returning home from Iraq!!!
Just as they walked on board,the entire plane erupted into applause. The men were a bit taken by surprise by the 340 people cheering for them as they searched for their seats. They were having their hands shook and touched by almost everyone who was within an arm's distance of them as they passed down the aisle.One elderly woman kissed the hand of one of the
Marines as he passed by her.The applause,whistles,and cheering didn't stop for a long time.
When we were finally airborne, "I" was not the only civilian checking his conscience as to the delays in "me" getting home, finding my easy chair,a cold beverage and the remote in my hand.These men had done for all of us and I had been complaining
silently about "me" and "my" issues I took for granted the everyday freedoms I enjoy and the conveniences of the American
way of life.I took for granted that others had paid the price for my ability to moan and complain about a few minutes delay to
"me" while those Heroes were going home to their loved ones.
I attempted to get my selfish outlook back in order and minutes before we landed,I suggested to the attendant that she announce over thespeaker a request for everyone to remain in their seats until our heroes were allowed to gather their things and be first off the plane.The cheers and applause continued until the last Marine stepped off and we all rose to go about our too often taken for granted everyday freedoms.
I felt proud of them. I felt it an honor and a privilege to be among the first to welcome them home and say "Thank You for a job well done." I vowed that I will never forget that flight nor the lesson learned.I can't say it enough,THANK YOU to those Veterans and active servicemen and women who may read this and a prayer for those who cannot because they are no longer with us. GOD BLESS AMERICA! WELCOME HOME! AND THANKS FOR A JOB WELL DONE!!!!! ![[beer]](graemlins/beer.gif)
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 03-23-2005 07:35 AM
Rated G
A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He
painted a sign advertising the 4 pups. And set about nailing it toa post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail intothe post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyesof a little boy.
"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat of the back of
his neck,These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good
deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment.Then reaching deep into
his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held up to the farmer.
I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look"
Sure," said the farmer.And with that he let out a whistle
Here, Dolly!" he called. Out from the doghouse and down the
ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boypressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight,As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ballappeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid.
Then in a somewhat awkward manner,the little pup began hobbling
toward the others, doing it's best to catch up.
I want that one," the little boy said, pointing tothe runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with youlike these other dogs would." With that the little boy stepped backfrom the fence,reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer,he said,You see sir,I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy.
How much?" asked the little boy. "No charge," answered the farmer,
There's no charge for love."
The world is full of people who need someone who understands.
It's National Friendship Week.
Show your friends how much you care.
Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND.
If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends.
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 03-24-2005 09:01 AM
Rated G Faye in Kingston
Slow down; God is still in heaven.
You are not responsible for doing
it all yourself, right now.
Remember a happy, peaceful time in your past.
Rest there. Each moment has richness
that takes a lifetime to savour.
Set your own pace.
When someone is pushing you,
it's OK to tell them they're pushing.
Take nothing for granted:
watch water flow, the corn grow,
the leaves blow, your neighbour mow.
Taste your food.
God gives it to delight as well as to nourish.
Notice the sun and the moon as they rise and set.
They are remarkable for their steady pattern of movement,
not their speed.
Quit planning how you're going to use
what you know, learn, or possess.
God's gifts just are; be grateful and their purpose will be clear.
When you talk with someone,
don't think about what you'll say next.
Thoughts will spring up naturally if you let them.
Talk and play with children.
It will bring out the unhurried little person inside you.
Create a place in your home...at your work...in your heart...
where you can go for quiet and recollection.
You deserve it.
Allow yourself time to be lazy and unproductive.
Rest isn't luxury; it's a necessity.
Listen to the wind blow.
It carries a message of yesterday,
tomorrow, and now. NOW counts.
Rest on your laurels.
They bring comfort whatever their size, age, or condition.
Talk slower. Talk less. Don't talk.
Communication isn't measured by words.
Give yourself permission to be late sometimes.
Life is for living, not scheduling.
Listen to the song of a bird; the complete song.
Music and nature are gifts,
but only if you are willing to receive them.
Take time just to think.
Action is good and necessary,
but it's fruitful only if we muse, ponder, and mull.
Make time for play-the things you like to do.
Whatever your age,
your inner child needs re-creation.
Watch and listen to the night sky. It speaks.
Listen to the words you speak, especially in prayer.
Learn to stand back and let others take their turn as leaders.
There will always be new opportunities
for you to step out in front again.
Divide big jobs into little jobs.
If God took six days to create the universe,
can you hope to do any better?
When you find yourself rushing and anxious, stop.
Ask yourself "WHY?" you are rushing and anxious.
The reasons may improve your self-understanding.
Take time to read the Bible.
Thoughtful reading is enriching reading.
Direct your life with purposeful choices,
not with speed and efficiency.
The best musician is one who plays with expression and
meaning, not the one who finishes first.
Take a day off alone; make a retreat.
You can learn from monks and
hermits without becoming one.
Pet a furry friend. You will give and get the gift of now.
Work with your hands. It frees the mind.
Take time to wonder.
Without wonder, life is merely existence.
Sit in the dark.
It will teach you to see and hear, taste and smell.
Once in a while, turn down the lights, the volume,
the throttle, the invitations. Less really can be more.
Let go. Nothing is usually the hardest thing to do -
but often it is the best.
Take a walk-but don't go anywhere.
If you walk just to get somewhere,
you sacrifice the walking.
Count your friends.
If you have one, you are lucky.
If you have more, you are blessed. Bless them in return.
Count your blessings - one at a time and slowly.
author unknown
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
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posted 04-20-2005 10:37 AM
Rated G
ONE OF THE BEST STORIES I'VE EVER HEARD!!!!!!
As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.
Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she lovedthem all the same.However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped inhis seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath.
In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.
It got to the point where Mrs.Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen,making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.However,when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote,"Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh.He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be around.."
His second grade teacher wrote,"Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates,but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote,"His mother's death has been hard on him.
He tries to do his best,but his father doesn't show much interest,and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote,"Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school.He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now,Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of
herself.
She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents,wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper,except for Teddy's.His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs.Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other
presents.Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing,and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume.But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was,putting it on,and dabbing some of the perfume on her
wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say,"Mrs.Thompson,today you smelled just like my Mom used to."
After the children left,she cried for at least an hour.
On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic.Instead,she began to teach children.
Mrs.Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy.As she worked with him,his mind seemed to come alive.The more she encouraged him,the faster he responded.By the end of the year,Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and,despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets.."
A year later,she found a note under her door,from Teddy,telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy.
He then wrote that he had finished high school,third in his class,and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.
Four years after that,she got another letter,saying that while things had been tough at times,he'd stayed in school,had stuck with it,and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors.
He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite
teacher he had ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came.
This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further.The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had.
But now his name was a little longer....
The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story does not end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married.
He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.
Of course,Mrs.Thompson did. And guess what?
She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing.
Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy
remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other,and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear,"Thank you Mrs.Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson,with tears in her eyes,whispered back.
She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference.I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
(For you that don't know,Teddy Stoddard is the Dr.at Iowa Methodist in Des Moines that has the Stoddard Cancer Wing.)
Beverly Chapman
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
|
posted 05-20-2005 11:09 AM
Rated G
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days and weeks passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you." Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.
"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."
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Bob Maar
(Maar stands for Maartini)
Posts: 28608
From: New York City & Newport, RI
Registered: Feb 2001
|
posted 09-15-2005 08:24 PM
Rated G
Child's Definition of LOVE.
A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love." Rebecca - age 8
When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." Karl - age 5
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." Chrissy - age 6
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4
Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." Danny - age 7
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss" Emily - age 8
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen," Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate," Nikka - age 6
"There are two kinds of love. Our love. God's love. But God makes both kinds of them." Jenny - age 8
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." Noelle - age 7
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." Tommy - age 6
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore," Cindy - age 8
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." Clare - age 6
"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." Elaine -age 5
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." Chris - age 7
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." Mary Ann - age 4
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." Lauren - age 4
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." Karen - age 7
"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." Mark - age 6
"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget," Jessica - age 8
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