A smile of delight
A word of or message of sincere praise
A favor or an acknowledgment for a favor rendered
A warm hug or placing a hand on another's shoulder
A short handwritten note, or an e-mail simply saying: "You are on my mind and I'm glad."
A token of affection in the form of a small gift
A listening ear and an appropriate response

It is in generously giving of our affection that we not only sustain
others, but we also sustain ourselves.

If we could shrink the earth's population to a
village of precisely
100 people, with all the existing human ratios
remaining the same, it
would look like this:

There would be:

57 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Western Hemisphere (north and south)
8 Africans
52 would be female
48 would be male
70 would be non white, 30 white
70 would be non Christian, 30 would be Christian
89 would be heterosexual, 11 homosexual
59% of the entire world's wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people and all 6 would be citizens of the United States
80 would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from malnutrition
1 would be near death, 1 would be near birth
Only 1 would have a college education
1 would own a computer

When one considers our world from such a compressed perspective,
the need for both acceptance and understanding becomes glaringly apparent.

Believe in magic and life will be magical.
Believe in miracles and life will be miraculous.
Believe in nothing and life will be empty.

Think for yourself.
Follow your heart; and make your life an example ---
so others can see one more road that can be walked in this world.

We are all different so we can learn from each other.
There are as many paths to enlightenment
as there are Beings in the universe.

If you must search for something, search for truth.
And when you find it, do not be surprised
if the truth is different for you than it is for other people.

Miracles happen every second of every day,
but usually the only people who see them
are the ones who believe in them.

When you refuse a gift coming from the heart,
you deny someone the joy of giving.

All life is connected.
When one part is damaged everything else is affected.

When we share joy and happiness,
we give two of the most powerful healing medicines in the world.

No one's time is more or less valuable than yours.
We all have the same number of hours in a day.

You cannot always control the events in your life,
but your free will lets you choose how you will react to those events.

Freedom is artistic control of your thoughts,
your feelings, and your actions.
Wisdom cannot be bought or sold, it cannot be given or taken.
It can only be gained by experience.
The price of knowledge is the responsibility to share it.

If you draw your power from your possessions or from other people
you may always be afraid that someone will rob you of your strength.
But if you find your strength within yourself,
you will have power that no one can ever take from you.

When you give unselfishly you need not search for your reward.
The act of giving is your reward, because in a world filled with ego problems, you have just become part of the solution.

Anonymous kindness is powerful magic.

When emotions control our lives we are slaves.
When thoughts control our lives we are students.
When spirit controls our lives we are masters.

Learn to trust your intuition.
It is your spirit whispering directions in your ears.

Three keys to open the door to enlightenment are
practice, patience, and perseverance.
Practice is easiest. Patience is the most difficult.
Perseverance is the most demanding.

In a complex society it is easy to blame others for our problems ---
and fail to see our own contribution to the difficulties we face.

The same energy you spend criticizing or attacking others can be used to build what you envision.

Genius does not spring from conformity.
It is the product of courageous minds who dare to act out
their most creative dreams regardless of what others think or say.

Do not compare yourself with others.
There will always be many 'ahead' of you.
There will always be many 'behind' you.
Some are rich and sad. Some are poor and happy.
Some are healthy and complain. Some are crippled and grateful.
Accept your role in life graciously.

If you wish to change,
do it without judging yourself by what others have done or will do.

Choose your actions carefully.
What you do right now is creating the future in your world.

Think for your Self. Follow your Heart;
and you will know what to do.

Life is a cycle and every part of the cycle is perfect in its own way.

You have within you:
The strength to overcome any obstacle that stands in your way;
the courage to be true to yourself;
the love to care for every living being;
the wisdom to build a world without hunger,
hatred, war, poverty, pollution or disease.
You have within you the power to do what has never been done before.

Betty

One song can spark a moment,
One flower can wake the dream.
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring.

One smile begins a friendship,
One handclasp lifts a soul.
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal.

One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam lights a room.
One candle lights the darkness,
One laugh will conquer gloom.

One step must start each journey,
One word must start each prayer.
One hope will raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care.

One voice can speak with wisdom.
One heart can know what's true.
One life can make the difference,
You see, it's up to You!

Leslie Ann Gray

When I'm a little old lady
Then I'll live with my children
and bring them great joy.
To repay all I've had
from each girl and boy
I shall draw on the walls
and scuff up the floor;
Run in and out
without closing the door.
I'll hide frogs in the pantry,
socks under my bed.
Whenever they scold me,
I'll hang my head.
I'll run and I'll romp,
always fritter away
The time to be spent
doing chores every day.
I'll pester my children
when they are on the phone.
As long as they're busy
I won't leave them alone.
Hide candy in closets,
rocks in a drawer,
And never pick up my clothes
from the floor.
Dash off to the movies
and not wash a dish.
I'll plead for allowance
whenever I wish.
I'll stuff up the plumbing
and deluge the floor.
As soon as they've mopped it,
I'll flood it some more.
When they correct me,
I'll lie down and cry,
Kicking and screaming,
not a tear in my eye.
I'll take all their pencils
and flashlights, and then
When they buy new ones,
I'll take them again.
I'll spill glasses of milk
to complete every meal,
Eat my banana and
just drop the peel.
Put toys on the table,
spill jam on the floor,
I'll break lots of dishes
as though I were four.
What fun I shall have,
what joy it will be to
Live with my children....
the way they lived with me!

(author unknown)

There was a little boy with a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, to hammer a nail in the back fence.
The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Then it gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.
Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.
The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.
He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed.
They make you smile and encourage you to succeed.
They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND...

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side

And placed the flower to his nose
And declared with overacted surprise,

"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy,
Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

(Author Unknown)

We pray for the Children
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes,"
who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.

We pray for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories, who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
who never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and
whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children
who want to be carried and for those who must,
who we never give up on
and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother and . . .
for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer 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 anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-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 didn't seem to be any reason 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?"

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could.

"Then chip off a little piece 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 fruits and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was un-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, "Paul, 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 the now familiar voice.

"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was 9 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 tall, 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 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 half an 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 still 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 calls 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 Paul?"

"Yes."

"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 I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

...Anonymous

I asked God to take away
my pride, and God said, No.
He said it was not for Him to take away,
but for me to give up.

I asked God to
make my handicapped child whole,
and God said, No.
He said her spirit is whole,
her body is only temporary.

I asked God to grant me
patience, and God said, No.
He said that patience is a by-product of
tribulation; it isn't granted, it's earned.

I asked God to give me
happiness, and God said, No.
He said He gives blessings;
happiness is up to me.

I asked God to
spare me pain, and
God said, No.
He said,
"Suffering draws you apart from worldly
cares and brings you closer to me."

I asked God to make my
spirit grow, and God said, No.
He said I must grow on my own, but
He will prune me to make me more fruitful.

I asked God if He
loved me, and God said, YES!!!
He gave His only Son who died for me, and
I will be in heaven someday because I believe.

I asked God to help me love
others as much as He loves me,
and God said,

"Ah, finally, you have the idea."

When Things Go Wrong

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low, and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is strange with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you can never tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you are hardest hit,

It's when things seem worst
That you must not quit.

Unknown author

"I call it "But-First" Syndrome. YOU know. It's when you decide to do the laundry.
So you start down the stairs with the laundry, but then see the newspapers on the table.
OK, you'll do the laundry.
BUT FIRST you decide to put the newspapers away. So on your way in to put the newspapers away, you notice the mail on the table.
OK, you'll put the newspapers away.
BUT FIRST you'll pay that bill that needs to be paid. So you look for the checkbook.
Oops...there's the baby's bottle from yesterday on the floor.
OK, you'll pay the bill.
BUT FIRST you need to put the bottle in the sink. You head for the kitchen. Darn it, there's the remote for the TV. What's it doing here?
Okay, you'll put the bottle in the sink.
BUT FIRST you need to put the remote away. Head for the TV room. Aaagh! Stepped on the cat. Cat needs to be fed.
Okay, you'll put the remote away.
BUT FIRST you need to feed the cat...
So, here's what happens at the end of the day....
Laundry not done, newspapers on the floor, bottle on the table, bills unpaid, checkbook still lost, cat ate the remote control......
And, when you try to figure out how come nothing got done all day, you are baffled because............................

you KNOW you were BUSY ALL DAY!!

That's the "BUT-FIRST" Syndrome." ;)

~Anonymous~

Feeling Overworked?

I now know why I'm always so tired
For a couple years I've been blaming it on lack of vitamins, iron,
poor blood, dieting and a dozen other maladies. But now I found out
the real reason: I'm tired because I'm overworked.

The population of this country is 237 million. 104 million are retired. That leaves 133 million to do the work.

There are 85 million in school, which leave 48 million to do the work.

Of this there are 29 million employed by the federal government.

This leaves 19 million to do the work.

Four million are in the Armed Forces, which leaves 15 million to do the work.

Take from the total the 14,800,000 people who work for State and City Government and that leaves 200,000 to do the work.

There are 188,000 in hospitals, so that leaves 12,000 to do the work.

Now, there are 11,998 people in Prisons. That leaves Just two people to do the work.

You and me.

And you're sitting there reading your E-mail.

Remove teddy bear from oven and preheat oven to 375.
Melt 1 cup margarine in saucepan.
Remove teddy bear from oven again and tell Jr, "No, no!"
Add margarine to 2 cups sugar.
Take shortening can away from Jr. and clean cupboards.
Measure 1/3 cup cocoa.
Take shortening can away from Jr. again and bathe cat.
Apply antiseptic and bandages to scratches sustained while
removing shortening from cat's tail.
Assemble 4 eggs, 2 tsp. vanilla, and 1-1/2 cups sifted flour.
Take smoldering teddy bear from oven and open all doors and windows for ventilation.
Take telephone away from Billy and assure party on the line that the call was a mistake.
Call operator and attempt to have direct dialed call removed from bill.
Measure 1 tsp. salt, 1/2 cup nuts and beat all ingredients well.
(Resist the temptation to beat Jr)
Let cat out of refrigerator.
Pour mixture into well-greased 9x13-inch pan.
Bake 25 minutes.
Rescue cat and take razor away from Billy.
Explain to kids that you have no idea if shaved cats will sunburn.
Throw cat outside while there's still time, and he's still able to run away.

FROSTING:

Mix the following in saucepan:
1 cup sugar
1 oz unsweetened chocolate
1/4 cup margarine

Take the darn teddy bear out of the @#$% broiler and throw it away -- far away.
Answer the door and meekly explain to nice policeman that you didn't know Jr had slipped out of the house and was heading for the street.
Put Jr in playpen.
Add 1/3 cup milk, dash of salt, and boil, stirring constantly for 2 minutes.
Answer door and apologize to neighbor for Billy having stuck a garden hose in man's front door mail slot.
Promise to pay for ruined carpet.
Tie Billy to clothesline.
Remove burned brownies from oven.
Collapse.

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.

Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation.

Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works. When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming.

After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition.

His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you." All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands!

The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for me it is too late."

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works.

More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office. One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!

Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today.
My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away.
Operator, can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part, I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too - at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away? Is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long, long time she needs to come home no!
I really need to reach her, but I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please - is it listed under"Heaven"?
I can't read these big, big words, I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator, I didn't mean to make you cry.
Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I'll give them a call.
- Author unknown

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I'm pretty sure I'll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet
Far from the daily family riot
May I lie back-not have to think
about what they're stuffing down the sink,
or who they're with, or where they're at
and what they're doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off the shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish-dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean-
(well heck, I've got the right to dream)
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around i know-
I must have lost them long ago!

Subject: our new college generation

The people who are starting college this fall across the nation were born in 1980.

They have no meaningful recollection of the Reagan era, and did not know he had ever been shot.
They were prepubescent when the Persian Gulf War was waged.
Black Monday 1987 is as significant to them as the Great Depression.
There has only been one Pope.
They can only really remember one president.
They were 11 when the Soviet Union broke apart, and do not remember the Cold War.
They have never feared a nuclear war. "The Day After" is a pill to them, not a movie.
CCCP is just a bunch of letters.
They have only known one Germany.
They are too young to remember the Space shuttle blowing up, and Tienamin Square means nothing to them.
They do not know who Momar Qadafi is.
Their lifetime has always included AIDS.
They never had a Polio shot, and likely, do not know what it is.
Bottle caps have not only always been screw off, but have always been plastic.
They have no idea what a pull top can looks like.
Atari pre-dates them, as do vinyl albums. The expression "you sound like a broken record" means nothing to them. They have never owned a record Player.
They have likely never played Pac Man, and have never heard of Pong.
Star Wars looks very fake and the special effects are pathetic.
There have always been Red M&M's, and Blue ones are not new. What you mean there used to be beige ones?
They may have heard of an 8-track, but chances are they probably have never actually seen or heard one.
The Compact Disc was introduced when they were 1 year old.
As far as they know, stamps have always cost about 32 cents.
Zip codes have always had a dash in them.
They have always had an answering machine.
Most have never seen a TV set with only 13 channels, nor have they seen a black and white TV.
They have always had cable.
There have always been VCR's, but they have no idea what Beta is.
They cannot fathom not having a remote control.
They were born the year that the Walkman were introduced by Sony.
Roller-skating has always meant in line for them.
They have never heard of King Cola, Burger Chef, The Globe Democrat, Pan AM or Ozark Airlines.
The Tonight Show has always been with Jay Lenno.
They have no idea when or why Jordache jeans were cool.
Popcorn has always been cooked in a microwave.
They have never seen and remember a game that included the St. Louis Football Cardinals, the Baltimore Colts, the Minnesota North Stars, the Kansas City Kings, the New Orleans Jazz, The Minnesota Lakers, The Atlanta Flames,or the Denver Rockies (NHL hockey, that is)
They do not consider the Colorado Rockies, the Florida Marlins, The Florida Panthers, The Ottawa Senators, the San Jose Sharks, or the Tampa Bay Lightning "expansion teams".
They have never seen Larry Bird play, and think Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is a football player.
They never took a swim and thought about Jaws.
The Vietnam War is as ancient history to them as WWI, WWII or even the Civil War.
They have no idea that Americans were ever held hostage in Iran.
They can't imagine what hard contact lenses are.
They don't know who Mork was or where he was from.
They never heard the terms "Where's the beef?", "I'd Walk a mile for Camel",or "de plane, de plane!".
They do not care who shot J.R. and have no idea who J.R. is.
The Cosby Show, The Facts of Life, Silver Spoons, The Love Boat, Miami Vice, WKRP in Cincinnati, and Taxi are shows they have likely never seen.
The Titanic was found? I thought we always knew where it was.
Michael Jackson has always been white.
They cannot remember the Cardinals ever winning a World Series, or even being in one.
Kansas, Chicago, Boston, America,and Alabama are places, not groups.
McDonalds never came in Styrofoam containers.

Do you feel old now?

The Treasure of Friendship

I hold in my hands
a box of gold ,
With a secret inside
that has never been told .

The box is priceless
but as I see ,
The treasure in-side
is far more precious to me .

Today I share
this treasure with thee ,
It's the treasure of friendship
You've given to me !

One path

Many paths lead to where you want to go. But if you try to take them all,
you'll never make it. Your possibilities may indeed be unlimited, but
without focus they are of little value. For a possibility to become a
reality, you must follow it with commitment. And a big part of that
commitment is the necessity of forgoing other possibilities.
There are countless possibilities available to you. And yet, you can only do
so much. You cannot follow every one. Indeed, you would not want to. Take
one path at a time, and stick with it for as far as possible. If it becomes
necessary to change your approach, then truly change it, and make sure you
commit to the change.

It takes confidence and belief in yourself to stay focused. Jumping from one
thing to another is a quick, easy way to calm your fears, but it will
eventually spread you so thin you can't get anything done.

Give your efforts the focus they deserve. When you are truly committed to
achievement, the path you're on is just as good as any other.

-- Ralph Marston

KEEP ON SINGING

Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way,
she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a
new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and
day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's
tummy. He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even
met her. The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of
the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. In time,
the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes ...every three....every minute.
But serious complications arose during delivery and Karen found herself in hours of labor.
Would a C-section be
required? Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born.
But she was in very serious condition. With a siren howling in the
night, the ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit
at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The days inched by. The
little girl got worse. The pediatric specialist regretfully had to tell the
parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst." Karen and
her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. They had fixed
up a special room in their home for the new baby but now they found
themselves having to plan for a funeral. Michael, however, kept begging his
parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he kept saying.
Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week
was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are
never allowed in Intensive Care. Karen made up her mind, though. She would
take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see his sister
right then, he may never see her alive. She dressed him in an oversized
scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket. But the head
nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out of here now!
No children are allowed. The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually
mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her
lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!" Karen
towed Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazed at the tiny infant
losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the
pure-hearted voice of a 3 year-old, Michael sang: "You are my sunshine, my
only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray ---" Instantly the
baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began to calm down and become
steady. "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged Karen with tears in her
eyes. "You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away-"
As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged,
strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr. "Keep on singing,
sweetheart!!!" "The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held
you in my arms..." Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing
rest, seemed to sweep over her. "Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now
conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed. "You are my
sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine away..." The
next, day...the very next day...the little girl was well enough to go home!
Woman's Day Magazine called it "The Miracle of a Brother's Song." The
medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's
love!

NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL.

After the divorce, her teenage daughter became increasingly rebellious. It culminated late one night when the police called to tell her that she had to come to the police station to pick up her daughter, who was arrested for drunk driving. They didn't speak until the next afternoon.

Mom broke the tension by giving her daughter a small giftwrapped box. Her daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a small piece of a rock. She rolled her eyes and said, "Cute, Mom, what's this for?"

"Here's the card, Mom said.

Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She got up and gave her mom a big hug as the card fell to the floor.

On the card were these words: "This Rock is more than 200 million years old. That's how long it will take before I give up on you."

From: Bits & Pieces, July 16, '98 pp. 16-17 by Rob Gilbert and Karen Wydra

SMILE!!!!!

She smiled at a sorrowful stranger.
The smile seemed to make him feel better.

He remembered past kindnesses of a friend
And wrote him a thank you letter.

The friend was so pleased with the thank you
That he left a large tip after lunch.

The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip,
Bet the whole thing on a hunch.

The next day she picked up her winnings,
And gave part to a man on the street.

The man on the street was grateful;
For two days he'd had nothing to eat.

On the way he picked up a shivering puppy
And took him home to get warm.

The puppy was very grateful
To be in out of the storm.

That night the house caught on fire.
The puppy barked the alarm.

He barked till he woke the whole household
And saved everybody from harm.

One of the boys that he rescued
Grew up to be President.

All this because of a simple smile
That hadn't cost a cent.

Beauty Tips by Audrey Hepburn

"For attractive lips,
speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes,
seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure,
share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair,
let a child run his fingers through it once a day.

For poise,
walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone ...

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived,
reclaimed and redeemed and redeemed,
Never throw out anybody.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand,
you'll find one at the end of your arm.

As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands.
One for helping yourself, the other for helping others."

"GOD'S EMBROIDERY"

When I was a little boy, my mother used to embroider a great deal. I would sit at her knee and look up from the floor and ask what she was doing.

She informed me that she was embroidering. I told her that it looked like a mess from where I was. As from the underside I watched her work within the boundaries of the little round hoop that she held in her hand, I complained to her that it sure looked messy from where I sat.

She would smile at me, look down and gently say, "My son, you go about your playing for a while, and when I am finished with my embroidering, I will put you on my knee and let you see it from my side."

I would wonder why she was using some dark threads along with the bright ones and why they seemed so jumbled from my view. A few minutes would pass and then I would hear Mother's voice say, "Son, come and sit on my knee."

This I did only to be surprised and thrilled to see a beautiful flower or a sunset. I could not believe it, because from underneath it looked so messy.

Then Mother would say to me, "My son, from underneath it did look messy and jumbled, but you did not realize that there was a pre-drawn plan on the top. It was a design. I was only following it. Now look at it from my side and you will see what I was doing."

Many times through the years I have looked up to my Heavenly Father and said, "Father, what are You doing?" He has answered, "I am embroidering your life." I say, "But it looks like a mess to me. It seems so jumbled. The threads seem so dark. Why can't they all be bright?"

Then Father seems to tell me, "'My child, you go about your business of doing My business, and one day I will bring you to Heaven and put you on My knee and you will see the plan from My side."

-Unknown

To flip through the pages of my BOS faster...

Title Page My Book of Shadows Bill of Rights What’s New The Library My Secret Grove Humor Favorite Writings Spell Workings Sabbats Webrings Goddesses Gods Current Quest The Soapbox Herbs Reader Contributions Stories for the Heart My Graphics COSW Gift Win My Award Find the Wands Runes Awards Fantasy Art Links Different Witches The Witch Speaks Erma Bombeck My Free Lessons Site Map HTML Help A Pagan Moment Recipes Under 18? Spirit Animals Letters to the Goddess Ancient History Oddz 'N' Endz