REFLECTIONS

IIn 1994, two American Theology students, Sarah and Richard answered an invitation from the Russian Department of Education to teach in a large Russian orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who had been abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program were in the orphanage. The Americans relate the following Christmas story: 
    It was nearing the holiday season, time for the orphans to hear the traditional Christmas story for the first time. We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger. 
    Throughout the Christmas story, the children and orphanage staff sat and listened in amazement. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins we had brought with us. No colored paper was available in the city. Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby’s blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States. The orphans were busy assembling their manger as we walked among them to see if they needed any help. 
    All went well until Richard got to one table where little Misha sat. Misha looked to be about six years old, he had big brown eyes and had finished his project. As he looked at the little boy’s manger, He was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger. 
    Quickly, Richard called for the translator to ask the boy why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at this completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related the happenings accurately-until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger. 
    Then Misha started to ad lib. He made up his own ending to the story as he said,
   "And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told Him I have no mama and I have no papa, so I don’t have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with Him. But I told Him I couldn’t, because I didn’t have a gift to give Him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe that if I kept Him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, ‘If I keep You warm, will that be a good enough gift?'
   "And Jesus told me, ‘If you keep Me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave Me.'
   "So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and He told me I could stay with Him--for always."
   As little Misha finished his story, his big brown eyes brimmed full of tears that splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed. The little Misha had found Someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, Someone who would stay with him--for always.  And that is what the Christmas story is all about.

A Doctor wants his child to become a doctor.
an Engineer wants his child to become engineer.
a Businessman wants his ward to become CEO.
BUT a teacher also wants his child to become one of them..!!!!
Nobody wants to become a teacher BY CHOICE" Very sad but that's the truth.!!!
The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.
One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"  To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?"  Teacher Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You want to know what I make?" (She paused for a second, then began...)  "Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor winner.  I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 min. without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental.""You want to know what I make?                                    

(She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table)
I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.
I teach them how to write and then I make them write. Keyboarding isn't everything.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them show all their work in math. They use their God given brain, not the man-made calculator.
I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know about English while preserving their unique cultural identity.
I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life."
(Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.)
"Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn't everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant. You want to know what I make?"

"I MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN ALL YOUR LIVES, EDUCATING KIDS AND PREPARING THEM TO BECOME CEO's, AND DOCTORS AND ENGINEERS."   "What do you make Mr. CEO?"   His jaw dropped; he went silent.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood.. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the Wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
 My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.  I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.   "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.
 A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.   "Information."  "I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.  "Isn't your mother home?" came the question.  "Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
 "Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.  No,"I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open the icebox?" she asked.  I said I could.  "Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice..  After that, I called "Information Please" for everything.. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.  She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
 Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
 She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."  Somehow I felt better.  Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."  Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.   All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I Somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me..
 Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
 A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."  Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. “Information." I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying,  "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."  I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"  I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."  I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.  "Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally." Three months later I was back in Seattle . A different voice answered,   "Information. I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this,"She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." Before I could hang up, she said, " Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" " Yes." I answered. Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.  Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in.
 He'll know what I mean."I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
 Never underestimate the impression you may make on others..  Whose life have you touched today?

A Church goer wrote a letter to the editor of a newspaper and complained that it made no sense to go to church every Sunday. "I've gone for 30 years now," he wrote, "and in that time I have heard something like 3,000 sermons. But for the life of me, I can't remember a single one of them. So, I think I'm wasting my time and the pastors are wasting theirs by giving sermons at all." This started a real controversy in the "Letters to the Editor" column, much to the delight of the editor. It went on for weeks until someone wrote this clincher: "I've been married for 30 years now. In that time my wife has cooked some 32,000 meals. But, for the life of me, I cannot recall the entire menu for a single one of those meals. But I do know this .. They all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work. If my wife had not given me these meals, I would be physically dead today. Likewise, if I had not gone to church for nourishment, I would be spiritually dead today!"

1] Prayer is not a "spare wheel" that you pull out when in trouble, but it is a "steering wheel" that directs the right path throughout the journey.
 

2] So why is a Car's WINDSHIELD so large & the Rear View Mirror so small? Because our PAST is not as important as our FUTURE. So, Look Ahead and Move on.
 

3] Friendship is like a BOOK. It takes a few minutes to burn, but it takes years to write.
 

4] All things in life are temporary. If going well, enjoy it, they will not last forever. If going wrong, don't worry, they can't last long either.
 

5] Old Friends are Gold! New Friends are Diamond! If you get a Diamond, don't forget the Gold! Because to hold a Diamond, you always need a Base of Gold!
 

6] Often when we lose hope and think this is the end, GOD  smiles from above and says, "Relax, sweetheart, it's just a bend, not the end!
 

7] When GOD solves your problems, you have faith in HIS abilities; when GOD doesn't solve your problems HE has faith in your abilities.
 

8] A blind person asked St. Anthony: "Can there be anything worse than losing eye sight?" He replied: "Yes, losing your vision!"
 

9] When you pray for others, God listens to you and blesses them, and sometimes, when you are safe and happy, remember that someone has prayed for you.
 

10] WORRYING does not take away tomorrow's TROUBLES, it takes away today's PEACE.

  When I meditated on the word  Guidance,
 I kept seeing 'dance' at the end of the word.    
  I remember reading that doing God's will is a lot like dancing.  
  When two people try to lead, nothing feels right.   
  The movement doesn't flow with the music,   
  And everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky.   
  When one person realizes that, and lets the other lead,   
  Both bodies begin to flow with the music.   
  One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back   
  Or by pressing Lightly in one direction or another.   
  It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.     
  The dance takes surrender, willingness,   
  And attentiveness from one person   
  And gentle guidance and skill from the other.   
  My eyes drew back to the word  Guidance.  
  When I saw 'G': I thought of God, followed by 'U and 'I.  
  'God, 'U and 'I dance.'   
  God, you, and I dance.   
  As I lowered my head, I became willing to trust   
  That I would get    guidance about my life.   
  Once again, I became willing to let God lead.   
  My prayer for you today is that God's blessings   
  And mercies are upon you on this day and everyday.   
  May you abide in God, as God     abides in you.    
  Dance together with God, trusting God to lead   
  And to guide you through each season of your life.   
  This prayer is powerful and there is nothing attached.   
  If God has done anything for    you in your life,
  Please share this message with someone else. 
There is no cost but a lot of rewards;    
  So let's continue to pray for one another.   
 

  And I Hope You Dance !

God said: "Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.."
St.. FRANCIS:
It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
GOD:
Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures.. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
GOD:
The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.
GOD:
They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
ST. FRANCIS:
Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
GOD:
They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
ST. FRANCIS:
No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
GOD:
Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?
ST. FRANCIS:
Yes, Sir.
GOD:
These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
ST. FRANCIS:
You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
GOD:
What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.
ST. FRANCIS:
You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
GOD:
No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?
ST. FRANCIS:
After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves..
GOD:
And where do they get this mulch?
ST. FRANCIS:
They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
GOD:
Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE:
'Dumb and Dumber', Lord.. It's a story about....
GOD:
Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis

That just because two people argue,
It doesn't mean they don't love each other.
And just because they don't argue,
It doesn't mean they do love each other.  
I Believe...
That we don't have to change friends if
We understand that friends change. 
I Believe....
That no matter how good a friend is,
They're going to hurt you every once in a while
And you must forgive them for that. 
I Believe...
That true friendship continues to grow,
Even over the longest distance.
Same goes for true love.
I Believe...
That you can do something in an instant
That will give you heartache for life.
I Believe....
That it's taking me a long time
To become the person I want to be.  
I Believe...
That you should always leave loved ones with
Loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
I Believe....
That you can keep going long after you think you can't. 
I Believe....
That we are responsible for what
We do, no matter how we feel.
I Believe...
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I Believe...
That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs
To be done, regardless of the consequences.
I Believe....
That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
I Believe....
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down
Will be the ones to help you get back up.  
I Believe...
That sometimes when I'm angry
I have the right to be angry, 
But that doesn't give me the right to be cruel. 
I Believe....
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had
And what you've learned from them and less to do with  how many
Birthdays you've celebrated. 
I Believe....
That it isn't always enough,
To be forgiven by others.
Sometimes, you have to learn to forgive yourself. 
I Believe...
That no matter how bad your heart is broken
The world doesn't stop for your grief.. 
I Believe....
That our background and circumstances
May have influenced who we are,
But, we are responsible for who we become.
I Believe...
That you shouldn't be so eager to find
Out a secret. It could change your life Forever.
I Believe.....
Two people can look at the exact same
Thing and see something totally different.
I Believe....
That your life can be changed in a matter of
Hours by people who don't even know you. 
I Believe....
That even when you think you have no more to give,
When a friend cries out to you -
You will find the strength to help.
I Believe...
That credentials on the wall
Do not make you a decent human being. 
I Believe...
That the people you care about most in life
Are taken from you too soon.

Fast from judging others; feast on the Christ indwelling in them.
Fast from emphasis on differences; feast on the unity of all life.
Fast from apparent darkness; feast on the reality of light.
Fast from words that pollute; feast on phrases that purify.
Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude.
Fast from anger; feast on patience.
Fast from pessimism; feast on optimism.
Fast from worry; feast on trust.
Fast from complaining; feast on appreciation.
Fast from negatives; feast on affirmatives.
Fast from unrelenting pressures; feast on unceasing prayer.
Fast from hostility; feast on nonviolence.
Fast from bitterness; feast on forgiveness.
Fast from self-concern; feast on compassion for others.
Fast from personal anxiety; feast on eternal truth.
Fast from discouragement; feast on hope.
Fast from facts that depress; feast on truths that uplift.
Fast from lethargy; feast on enthusiasm.
Fast from suspicion; feast on truth.
Fast from thoughts that weaken; feast on promises that inspire.
Fast from idle gossip; feast on purposeful silence.

Gentle God, during this season of fasting and feasting,
gift us with your presence
so we can be a gift to others in carrying out your work.
Amen.

I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one nigh.
He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God?' he said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see. Under the bed..'  I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor.  I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.
He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from

his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult. He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.
I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?
Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed. The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.  He does not seem dissatisfied. He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work.  He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.  And Saturdays - oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside.. 'That one's goin' to Chi-car-go! ' Kevin shouts as he claps his hands. His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights. And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn't know what it means to be discontent.
His life is simple. He will never know the entanglements of wealth of power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.
His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.  He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax. He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others His heart is pure.
He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God. Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin  seems to know God - to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an 'educated' person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion. In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.
It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.
It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap. I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.  Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.
And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.  Kevin won't be surprised at all!

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 'till 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 a few minutes.  It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body.  He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.
He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with 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.
And 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 a.m., and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us..

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.  Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed.  Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. 
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.   'Did you keep that awful looking man last night?  I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!'
Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice.  But, oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness would have been easier to bear.  I know our family always will 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, till I can put it out in the garden.'
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven.  There's an especially beautiful one,' God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. 'He won't mind starting in this small body.'
 

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

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

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.  I took his vital  signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him.
I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound. While taking care of  his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to  the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease. As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every  morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'  He smiled as he patted my hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.'

 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 glass counter. 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 audible. '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 neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of 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.
In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.

A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Target. She must have been 6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Target.
We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day.
The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in. 'Mom let's run through the rain, 'she said.
'What?' Mom asked. 'Let's run through the rain!' She repeated 'No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit,' Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated: 'Mom, let's run through the rain,' 'We'll get soaked if we do,' Mom said..
'No, we won't, Mom.. That's not what you said this morning,' the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm.
This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet? 'Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!'
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain.. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes. Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.
'Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If GOD lets us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing,' Mom said.
Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked.. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars.
And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions, they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But no one can ever take away your precious memories...So, don't forget to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season
and a time to every purpose under heaven.
I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN

A message every adult should read because children are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.  When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make my favorite cake for me, and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer, and I knew that there is a God I could always talk to, and I learned to trust in Him.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it, and I learned we have
to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good, and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things
hurt, but it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw that you cared, and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking I looked at you and wanted to say,'Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.'

I PUT THIS HERE FOR ALL OF THE PEOPLE I KNOW WHO DO SO MUCH FOR OTHERS,   BUT THINK THAT NO ONE EVER SEES.
LITTLE EYES SEE A LOT .

Each of us (parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, teacher, friend) influences the life of a child.

How will you touch the life of someone today? 
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly.   Leave the rest to God.

            A sick man turned to his doctor,
                                 As he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side." Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know." "You don't know?  You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"
The doctor was holding the handle of the door;   On the other side came a sound of scratching and whining,
And as he opened the door,  A dog sprang into the room  And leaped on him with an eager show of gladness. Turning to the patient, the doctor said,  "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside,  He knew nothing except that his master was here,
And when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.  I know little of what is on the other side of death,
But I do know one thing,   I know my Master is there and that is enough."
 

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.
He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt,
resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
     The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence,
empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

A father wanted to read a magazine but was being bothered by his little girl. She wanted to know what the United States looked like. Finally, he tore a sheet out of his new magazine on which was printed the map of the country.
Tearing it into small pieces, he gave it to her and said, 'Go into the other room and see if you can put this together. This will show you our whole country today..'   After a few minutes, she returned and handed him the map, correctly fitted and taped together. The father was surprised and asked how she had finished so quickly.
 'Oh,' she said, 'on the other side of the paper is a picture of Jesus. When I  got all of Jesus back where He belonged, then our country just came together.'