I hurried into the local department store to grab some last minute Christmas gifts. I looked at all the people and grumbled to myself. I would be in here forever and I just had so much to do. Christmas was beginning to become such a drag. I kind of wished that I could just sleep through Christmas but I hurried the best I could through all the people to the toy department.Once again I kind of mumbled to myself at the prices of all these toys and wondered if the grandkids would even play with them. I found myself in the doll aisle. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a little boy about age 5 holding a lovely doll. He kept touching her hair and he held her so gently. I could not seem to help myself.

I just kept looking over at the little boy and wondered whom the doll was for. I watched him turn to a woman and he called his aunt by name said,

“Are you sure I don’t have enough money?”

She replied a bit impatiently, “You know that you don’t have enough money for it.”

The aunt told the little boy not to go anywhere, that she had to go get some other things and would be back in a few minutes and then she left the aisle. The boy continued to hold the doll.

After a bit I asked the boy whom the doll was for. He said,

“It is the doll my sister wanted so badly for Christmas. She just knew that Santa would bring it.”

I told him that maybe Santa was going to bring it.

He said “No, Santa can’t go where my sister is…I have to give the doll to my Mamma to take to her.”

I asked him where his sister was. He looked at me with the saddest eyes and said,

“She has gone to be with Jesus. My Daddy says that Mama is going to have to go be with her.”

My heart nearly stopped beating. Then the boy looked at me again and said,

“I told my Daddy to tell Mama not to go yet. I told him to tell her to wait till I got back from the store.”

Then he asked me if I wanted to see his picture. I told him I would love to. He pulled out some pictures he’d had taken at the front of the store. He said,

“I want my Mamma to take this with her so she don’t ever forget me. I love my Mama so very much and I wish she did not have to leave me. But Daddy says she will need to be with my sister.”

I saw that the little boy had lowered his head and had grown so very quiet.

While he was not looking I reached into my purse and pulled out a handful of bills. I asked the little boy,

“Shall we count that money one more time?”

He grew excited and said, “Yes, I just know it has to be enough.”

So I slipped my money in with his and we began to count it. Of course it was plenty for the doll. He softly said,

“Thank you Jesus for giving me enough money.”

Then the boy said, “I just asked Jesus to give me enough money to buy this doll so Mama can take it with her to give to my sister. And he heard my prayer. I wanted to ask him for enough to buy my Mama a white rose, but I didn’t ask him, but he gave me enough to buy the doll and a rose for my Mama. She loves white roses so very, very much.”

In a few minutes the aunt came back and I wheeled my cart away. I could not keep from thinking about the little boy as I finished my shopping in a totally different spirit than when I had started.

I kept remembering a story I had seen in the newspaper several days earlier about a drunk driver hitting a car and killing a little girl and the mother was in serious condition. The family was deciding on whether to remove the life support. Now surely this little boy did not belong with that story.

Two days later I read in the paper where the family had disconnected the life support and the young woman had died. I could not forget the little boy and just kept wondering if the two were somehow connected.

Later that day, I could not help myself and I went out and bought some white roses and took them to the funeral home where the young woman was. And there she was holding a lovely white rose, the beautiful doll, and the picture of the little boy in the store.

I left there in tears, my life changed forever. The love that little boy had for his little sister and his mother was overwhelming. In a split second a drunk driver had ripped the life of that little boy to pieces.

 
 A true story I read.

A marble a weekend

Posted: August 19, 2013 in Day 2 Day

Nice Narration

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, of maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the kitchen, with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems
to hand you from time to time.

Let me tell you about it. I turned the volume up on my radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning talk show. I heard an older sounding chap with a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the
broadcasting business himself.

He was talking about “a thousand marbles” to someone named “Tom”. I was intrigued and sat down to listen to what he had to say. “Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job. I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter’s dance recital. ” He continued, “Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities.” And that’s when he began to explain his theory of a “thousand marbles.”

“You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years.” “Now then, I multiplied 75
times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime.

“Now stick with me Tom, I’m getting to the important part. “It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail”, he went on, “and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. “I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy. “So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. “I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in my workshop next to the radio. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away.

“I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight. “Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then God has blessed me with a little extra time to be with my loved ones…… “It was nice to talk to you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your loved ones, and I hope to meet you again someday. Have a good morning!”

You could have heard a pin drop when he finished. Even the show’s moderator didn’t have anything to say for a few moments. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to do some work that morning, then go to the
gym. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. “C’mon honey, I’m taking you and the kids to breakfast.” “What brought this on?” she asked with a smile. “Oh, nothing special,” I said. ” It has just been a
long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we’re out? I need to buy some marbles.”

Usian Thunder Bolt

Posted: August 19, 2013 in Awesome 2 Read

“The olympic gold medalist Usain Bolt has the record for sprinting 100 metres in 9.63 secs, for that 9.63 seconds of historic glory – he had to practise 9 hours a day for almost 9 years (if not more) of his life, during each seconds of that practise he pushed himself visualising his goal with confidence in himself when to the rest he was only running around a field …it doesnt matter which part of those 9 years you are at now, push yourself harder and beleive in yourself even when some may not , someday you will have your 9.63 seconds of fame and glory – which will then go on to stay with you forever , these same critics will come back that day and say – i knew you would do it! most importantly the acknowldegement will come from people far and beyond the level of these petty people , that day none of this pain , none of these stupid faces will matter – the spotlight will be blinding and the rest will be relaxing”

It could be practising hard on gaining experience , slogging it out when the rest are enjoying , burning the midnight oil to do something over and beyond but to achieve your dream …someday it will help , it could possibly help you take that organisation saving decision someday in a meeting in a matter of those 9secs , a  win you could never have had if the practise hours werent there , and as Muhammad Ali puts it in his quote(one of my other favourites) :

“I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’ “

Today is a gift

Posted: August 19, 2013 in Awesome 2 Read

Today is a gift, that is why it is called ‘The Present’

It will take just few seconds to read this and change your thinking..

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 bydescribing 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 details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band – he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the
window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months 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 making 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 besides 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 is why it is called The Present .’

Trouble Tree

Posted: July 16, 2013 in Awesome 2 Read

The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start.

While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet the family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

After opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His face was wreathed in smiles, and he hugged his two small children and then gave his wife a kiss.

Afterward, he walked me to my car. We passed the tree, and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

“Oh, that’s my trouble tree,” he replied. “I know I can’t help having troubles on the job, but one thing for sure, troubles don’t belong in the house with my wife and children. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning, I pick them up again.”

“Funny thing is,” he smiled, “when I come out in the morning to pick them up, there aren’t nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.”)

Never go to bed with an argument unsettled , and if you cant settle it then sleep over it , in the morning half of them would have vanished …for the rest half roll up your sleeves and solve it on immediate priority even if that requires the strength and energy of moses parting the sea. and after that if it still cant be managed – Pray with all your heart and soul…


In old times, fable retells the story of the young athletic boy hungry for success, for whom winning was everything and success was measured by such a result.

One day, the boy was preparing himself for a running competition in his small native village, himself and two other young boys to compete. A large crowd had congregated to witness the sporting spectacle and a wise old man, upon hearing of the little boy, had travelled far to bear witness also.

The race commenced, looking like a level heat at the finishing line, but sure enough the boy dug deep and called on his determination, strength and power .. he took the winning line and was first. The crowd was ecstatic and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man remained still and calm, expressing no sentiment. The little boy, however. felt proud and important.

A second race was called, and two new young, fit, challengers came forward, to run with the little boy. The race was started and sure enough the little boy came through and finished first once again. The crowd was ecstatic again and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man remained still and calm, again expressing no sentiment. The little boy, however, felt proud and important.

“Another race, another race!” pleaded the little boy. The wise old man stepped forward and presented the little boy with two new challengers, an elderly frail lady and a blind man. “What is this?”, quizzed the little boy. “This is no race” he exclaimed. “Race!”, said the wise man. The race was started and the boy was the only finisher, the other two challengers left standing at the starting line. The little boy was ecstatic, he raised his arms in delight. The crowd, however, was silent showing no sentiment toward the little boy.

“What has happened? Why not do the people join in my success?” he asked the wise old man. “Race again”, replied the wise man, “…this time, finish together, all three of you, finish together” continued the wise man. The little boy thought a little, stood in the middle of the blind man and the frail old lady, and then took the two challengers by the hand. The race began and the little boy walked slowly, ever so slowly, to the finishing line and crossed it. The crowd were ecstatic and cheered and waved at the boy. The wise man smiled, gently nodding his head. The little boy felt proud and important.

“Old man, I understand not! Who are the crowd cheering for? Which one of us three?”, asked the little boy. The wise old man looked into the little boy’s eyes, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders, and replied softly .. “Little boy, for this race you have won much more than in any race you have ever ran before, and for this race the crowd cheer not for any winner!”


Carrots, eggs, or coffee – How do you handle Adversity?

What can a carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee teach a young woman tired of fighting and struggling with adversity and heartaches? Read on and find out… 

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 when 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 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. However, the ground coffee beans were unique. 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 fragrance 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?