These are some stories that i have found on the internet a long
time ago.... i dont remember where their orginial source came from, but im sure
that you will enjoy these. The easiest way to view these is with this menu:
2. A FRIEND THROUGH THE YEARS
In kindergarten your idea of a good friend was the person who let you have
the red crayon when all that was left was the ugly black one.
In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom
with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary halls.
In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you
stand up to the class bully.
In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their
lunch with you when you forgot yours on the bus.
In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing
to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck
do-si-do-ing with Nasty Nicky or Smelly Susan.
In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the
back of the bus for you.
In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Chris or
Jennifer, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they
said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy the
social studies homework from the night before that you had forgotten.
In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack
up your stuffed animals and old baseball cards but didn't laugh at you when
you finished and broke out into tears.
In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a
party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there.
In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their
schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch.
In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides
in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled
you when you broke up with Chris or Jennifer, and found you a date to the
In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you
pick out a college/university, assured you that you would get into that college/university,
helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to
the idea of letting you go...
At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on
the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated
The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who
helped you clean up after your party, helped you sneak out of the house when
you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and
boyfriend/girlfriend were back together, you could make it through anything,
helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked
through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you were leaving behind, and finally
on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance
that you would make it in college as well as you had these past 18 years,
and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved.
Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better
of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off
those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are
not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past
behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer,
stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make
time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure
from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person,
and most importantly loves you.
3. A HEART WARMING STORY
It's a cold day in December...New York City. A little boy about 10-years-old
was standing before a shoe store on Broadway, barefooted, peering through the
window, and shivering with cold. A lady approached the boy and said, "My
little fellow, why are you looking so earnestly in that window?"
"I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes," was the boys reply.
The lady took him by the hand and went into the store, and asked the clerk to
get a half dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give
her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her. She took the
little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt
down, washed his little feet, and dried them with a towel.
By this time the clerk had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the
boy's feet, she then purchased him a pair of shoes, and tying up the remaining
pairs of socks, gave them to him.
She patted him on the head and said, "No doubt, my little fellow, you feel
more comfortable now?"
As she turned to go, the astonished lad caught her by the hand, and looking
up in her face, with tears in his eyes, answered the question with these words:
"Are you God's wife?"
4. A LETTER FROM JESUS
I just had to write to tell you how much I love you and care for you. Yesterday,
I saw you walking and laughing with your friends; I hoped that soon you'd want
Me to walk along with you, too. So, I painted you a sunset to close your day
and whispered a cool breeze to refresh you. I waited; you never called. I just
kept on loving you.
As I watched you fall asleep last night, I wanted so much to touch you. I spilled
moonlight onto your face- trickling down your cheeks as so many tears have.
You didn't even think of me; I wanted so much to comfort you.
The next day I exploded a brilliant sunrise into a glorious morning for you.
But you woke up late and rushed off to work- you didn't even notice. My sky
became cloudy and My tears were the rain.
I love you. Oh, if you'd only listen. I really love you. I try to say it in
the quiet of the green meadow and in the blue sky. The wind whispers My love
throughout the treetops and spills it into the vibrant colors of the flowers.
I shout it to you in the thunder of the great waterfalls and compose lovesongs
for birds to sing for you. I warm you with the clothing of My sunshine and perfume
the air with nature's sweet scent. My love for you is deeper than the ocean
and greater than any need in your heart. If you'd only realize how I care. I
died just for you.
My Dad sends His love. I want you to meet Him. He cares, too. Fathers are just
that way. So please call Me soon. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait because
I love you.
5. A LOVE STORY
One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Ah the beauty of
God's creation is beyond description. As I watched, I praised God for His beautiful
work. As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me.
He asked me, "Do you love me?"
I answered, "Of course, God! You are my Lord and Saviour!"
Then He asked, "If you were physically handicapped, would you still love
me?" I was perplexed. I looked down upon my arms, legs and the rest of
my body and wondered how many things I wouldn't; be able to do, the things that
I took for granted. And I answered, "It would be tough Lord, but I would
still love You."
Then the Lord said, "If you were blind, would you still love my creation?"
How could I love something without being able to see it? Then I thought of all
the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and His creation.
So I answered, "Its hard to think of it, but I would still love you."
The Lord then asked me, "If you were deaf, would you still listen to my
word?" How could I listen to anything being deaf? Then I understood. Listening
to God's Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts. I answered, "It
would be tough, but I would still listen to Your word."
The Lord then asked, "If you were mute, would you still praise My Name?"
How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me: God wants us to
sing from our very heart and soul. It never matters what we sound like. And
praising God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give
God praise with our words of thanks. So I answered, "Though I could not
physically sing, I would still praise Your Name.
And the Lord asked, "Do you really love Me?"
With courage and a strong conviction, I answered boldly, "Yes Lord! I love
You because You are the one and true God!" I thought I had answered well,
but God asked, "THEN WHY DO YOU SIN?"
I answered, "Because I am only human. I am not perfect."
"THEN WHY IN TIMES OF PEACE DO YOU STRAY THE FURTHEST? WHY ONLY IN TIMES
OF TROUBLE DO YOU PRAY THE EARNEST?" No answers. Only tears.
The Lord continued: "Why only sing at fellowships and retreats? Why seek
Me only in times of worship? Why ask things so selfishly? Why ask things so
unfaithfully?" The tears continued to roll down my cheeks.
"Why are you ashamed of Me? Why are you not spreading the good news? Why
in times of persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on?
Why make excuses when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?" I
tried to answer, but there was no answer to give. "You are blessed with
life. I made you not to throw this gift away. I have blessed you with talents
to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you,
but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were closed.
I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent
you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your
prayers and I have answered them all." "DO YOU TRULY LOVE ME ?"
I could not answer. How could I? I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had no excuse.
What could I say to this? When I my heart had cried out and the tears had flowed,
I said, Please forgive me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child."
The Lord answered, " That is My Grace, My child."
I asked, " Then why do you continue to forgive me? Why do You love me so?"
The Lord answered, "Because you are My creation. You are my child. I will
never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When
you shout with joy, I will laugh with you. When you are down, I will encourage
you. When you fall, I will raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you.
I will be with you till the end of days, and I will love you forever."
Never had I cried so hard before. How could I have been so cold? How could I
have hurt God as I had done?
I asked God, "How much do You love me?" The Lord stretched out His
arms, and I saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ,
my Saviour. And for the first time, I truly prayed.
6. A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE
A little boy was overheard talking to himself as he strutted through the backyard,
wearing his baseball cap and toting a ball and bat: "I'm the greatest hitter
in the world," he announced.
Then, he tossed the ball into the air, swung at it, and missed.
"Strike One!" he yelled. Undaunted, he picked up the ball and said
again, "I'm the greatest hitter in the world!"
He tossed the ball into the air. When it came down he swung again and missed.
"Strike Two!" he cried.
The boy then paused a moment to examine his bat and ball carefully. He spit
on his hands and rubbed them together. He straightened his cap and said once
more, "I'm the greatest hitter in the world!"
Again he tossed the ball up in the air and swung at it. He missed. "Strike
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "I'm the greatest pitcher in the world!"
7. A REASON TO PRAY
A True Story Reported by an OMF Missionary at His Home Church
While serving at a small field hospital in Africa, I traveled every two weeks
by bicycle through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies. This requires camping
overnight halfway. One of these trips, I saw two men fighting in the city; one
was seriously hurt, so I treated him and witnessed to him about the Lord Jesus
Christ. I then returned home without incident.
Upon arriving in the city several weeks later, I was approached by the man I
had treated earlier. He told me he had known that I carried money and medicine.
He said, "Some friends and I followed you into the jungle knowing you would
camp overnight. We waited for you to go to sleep and planned to kill you and
take your money and drugs. Just as we were about to move into your campsite,
we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards." I laughed at this
and said I was certainly all alone out in the jungle campsite.
The young man pressed the point, "No sir, I was not the only one to see
the guards. My five friends also saw them, and we all counted them. It was because
of those guards that we were afraid and left you alone."
As I recounted this account during a church presentation in Michigan, one of
the men in the church jumped up and interrupted the missionary. He asked, "Can
you tell me the exact date when this happened?" The missionary thought
for a while and recalled the date. The man in the congregation related his side
of the story:
"On that night in Africa it was morning here. I was preparing to play golf.
As I put my bags in the car, I felt the Lord leading me to pray for you. In
fact, the urging was so great that I called the men of this church together
to pray for you. Will all of those men who met with the Lord please stand?"
The men who had met that day to pray together stood - there were 26 of them.
8. A SHOCKING GIFT
An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer, a building contractor,
of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely
life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck,
but he needed to retire. They could get by.
His employer was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build
just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but it was
easy to see that his heart was no longer in his work. He had lost his enthusiasm
and had resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an
unfortunate way to end his career.
When the carpenter finished his work and his boss came to inspect the new house,
the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your
house," he said, "my gift to you." What a shock! What a shame!
If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all
so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.
So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than
acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not
give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we
have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built for
If we had realized, we would have done it differently. Think of yourself as
the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board,
or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even
if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously
and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself
project." Who could say it more clearly? Your life today is the result
of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result.
- author unknown -
9. A STORY OF ENCOURAGEMENT
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. And 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 color 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 color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced
the landscape, 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
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 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 world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself.
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 of the things you have that money can't
10. A STORY TO LIVE BY
Written by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted
out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip.
This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was
exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with
an astronomical figure on it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first
time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She
was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were
taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment,
then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything
for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when
I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected
death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern
town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she
hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without
realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading
more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without
fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family
and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should
be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these
moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every
special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first
camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My
theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of
groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties;
clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well
as my party-going friends'.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip
on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and
hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known
that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think
she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have
called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles.
I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food.
I'm guessing-I'll never know.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that
my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good Friends whom I was
going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters
that I intended to write-one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell
my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them. I'm trying
very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter
and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every
day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.