Every day I recieve tons of e-mails, but my favorite each day has to be my daily dose of

Chicken Soup for the Soul. Below are a few of my personal favorites. I have to warn you though, you might want to grab a box of tissues before you read some of these. If you would like to receive Chicken Soup for the Soul in your email daily just go to their site. But for now, here's a little soup for your soul.

For the Record

Less than a year after my wife's funeral I was confronted with the most terrible realities of being a widower with five children.

Notes from school.

Field trip permission slips, PTA election ballots, Troll Book order forms, sports sign-ups, medical forms, and innumerable academic progress reports-an onslaught of paperwork courtesy of the educational bureaucracy.

This "literature" has to be read and signed, or placed at the bottom of the birdcage. Regardless of its destination it must be dealt with on a daily basis.

One day, eight-year-old Rachel was helping me complete five (count 'em, five) emergency treatment forms for school. She would fill in the generic information (name, address, phone number), and I would add the rest (insurance numbers, doctor's name, date, and signature). After signing the forms, I checked them for accuracy. It was then that I noticed on each card, in the slot beside Mother's Business Phone, Rachel had written "1-800-HEAVEN."

Rudy's Angel

I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn't hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 37 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories.

Rudy often came with me and most every time he'd pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I'd always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. Rudy knew I loved yellow roses.

With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since Rudy had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two.

Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how Rudy had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blond, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large pack of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and she smiled.

"My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don't know."

I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. "My husband passed away eight days ago," I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. "Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together."

She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away.

I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream section near the front of the store. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone.

I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front. I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blond hair as she kept walking toward me, her eyes holding mine.

As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. "These are for you," she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. "When you go through the line, they will know these are paid for." She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again.

I wanted to tell her what she'd done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know?

Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn't alone. "Oh, Rudy, you haven't forgotten me, have you?" I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel.

Wilma Hankins Hlawiczka from Chicken Soup for the Single's Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Jennifer Read Hawthorne and Marci Shimoff copyright 1999 Canfield and Hansen

G-o-o-o-a-a-a-a-l-l-l-l!

Running as fast as my small legs could carry me, I concentrated on the black-and-white object spinning ahead, and realized that this was my chance. This was my dream come true. I had a jump on the others, and it was all up to me! I looked behind me and saw the yellow jerseys and green shorts of my teammates, the National Auto Glass Dinosaurs. They looked like a swarm of bees, all headed toward the soccer ball. I saw the faces of my opponents and could tell that some of them were running really hard. They wanted the ball, but it was mine, all mine!!

I ran up to the ball and gave it a tremendous, four-year-old kick. It scooted farther down the field, and again I sprinted after it. The other players gained on me, but I was nearing the goal. The confused look on the goalie’s face told me that he wasn’t ready to make a save. The rooting section on the sideline was chanting, "Kick it! Kick it! Kick the ball!" I wound up and toed the ball as hard as a four-year-old ever could. It bounced into the net, past the scrambling goalie. I went wild! I had just scored my first real goal!

I ran back to my teammates. Some were cheering and celebrating with me, but most of them had their arms crossed, with scowls on their faces and annoyed looks in their eyes. Theywanted to score that goal, but I had! Ha! Ha!! I looked to my mom and dad on the sideline. They were laughing with some other parents. This is just too cool! I’d scored my first ever goal - for the other team!

by Heather Thomsen, age 13 from Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul Copyright 1998 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Hansen and Irene Dunlap

Check back again, I'll try to add some more later. (Hugs)

Heaven's Gate