Do all the good you can!

My Brother's Keeper, My Sister's Keeper, My Child's Keeper (This will give you chills, but it's WELL worth reading!) God has a way of allowing us to be in the right place at the right time.
I was walking down a dimly lit street late one evening when I heard muffled screams coming from behind a clump of bushes. Alarmed, I slowed down to listen and panicked when I realized that what I was hearing were the unmistakable sounds of a struggle: heavy grunting, frantic scuffling and tearing of fabric. Only yards from where I stood, a woman was being attacked. Should I get involved? I was frightened for my own safety and cursed myself for having suddenly decided to take a new route home that night. What if I became another statistic? Shouldn't I just run to the nearest phone and call the police? Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations in my head had taken only seconds, but already the cries were growing weaker. I knew I had to act fast. How could I walk away from this?
No, I finally resolved, I could not turn my back on the fate of this unknown woman, even if it meant risking my own life.

I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don't know where I found the moral courage and physical strength--- but once I had finally resolved to help the girl, I became strangely transformed. I ran behind the bushes and pulled the assailant off the woman. Grappling, we fell to the ground, where we wrestled for a few minutes until the attacker jumped up and escaped.
Panting hard, I scrambled upright and approached the girl, who was crouched behind a tree, sobbing. In the darkness, I could barely see her outline, but I could certainly sense her trembling shock.
Not wanting to frighten her further, I at first spoke to her from a distance.

"It's OK," I said soothingly. "The man ran away. You're safe now."

There was a long pause and then I heard the words, uttered in wonder, in amazement. "Dad, is that you?"
And then, from behind the tree, stepped my youngest daughter, Katherine.

Do all the good you can, In all the ways you can, In all the places you can, At all times you can, To all the people you can, As Long as you ever can.

Like potted plants, people can become "root-bound."

We have a beautiful "Christmas Cactus," which I gave to my wife as a gift 24 years ago. It has accompanied us through tough years and good times. It has lived with us in four different communities and has been present during the raising of our family. But it almost died.

As the small plant grew, we transferred it to a larger pot. It did well for about twenty years, but then began to die. It seemed that no amount of feeding, coddling or attention helped. We finally plucked a few leaves, re-rooted them and started over.

We could barely remove the now dead plant from its pot for all the knotted and intertwined roots. The beautiful succulent died because it outgrew its environment. The plant changed, but the container it lived in stay the same.

People, too, can die when they outgrow their environments. They need broader views; bigger challenges. Songwriter Bob Dylan put it this way: "If you are not busy being born, you are busy dying."

One man was offered employment at a salary higher than he had ever made in his life. After careful consideration, he declined the position.

"What's the matter?" his potential boss asked. "Isn't the salary big enough?"

"The salary is fine," the man said. "It's the job that's not big enough." He chose growth over decline; life over death.

Karen Kaiser Clark said: "Life is change... Growth is optional... Choose wisely." Good advice -- especially when we find ourselves becoming root-bound.

Today you will change. But will you grow?

God Just Listens and Lets you Work it out for Yourself!

When I ask you to listen to me and you start giving me advice, you have not done what I asked.
When I ask you to listen to me and you begin to tell me why I shouldn't feel that way, you are trampling on my feelings.
When I ask you to listen to me and you feel you have to do something to solve my problem, you have failed me, strange as that may seem.
Listen! All I ask is that you listen.
Don't talk or do - just hear me.
Advice is cheap; 20 cents will get you both Dear Abby and Billy Graham in the same newspaper.
And I can do for myself; I am not helpless.
Maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless.
When you do something for me that I can and need to do for myself, you contribute to my fear and inadequacy.
But when you accept as a simple fact that I feel what I feel, no matter how irrational, then I can stop trying to convince you and get about this business of understanding what's behind this irrational feeling.
And when that's clear, the answers are obvious and I don't need advice.
Irrational feelings make sense when we understand what's behind them.
Perhaps that's why prayer works, sometimes, for some people - because God is mute, and he doesn't give advice or try to fix things.
God just listens and lets you work it out for yourself.
So please listen, and just hear me.
And if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn - and I will listen to you.

Feelings are like the weather

Feelings are like the weather, constantly shifting and changing--sometimes dark, sometimes light, at times wild and intense, at other times calm and quiet. Trying to resist your feeling experience is like trying to control the weather--an exercise in futility and frustration! Besides, if all we ever experienced were sunny days of exactly 75 degree temperature, life might become boring after a while. When we can appreciate the beauty of the rain, the wind, and the snow as well as the sun, then we will be free to experience the fullness of life.

I accept and appreciate all the varieties of my internal "weather."

The Two-Hundredth Hug

My father's skin was jaundiced as he lay hooked up to monitors and intravenous tubes in the intensive care unit of the hospital. Normally a well-built man, he had lost more than 30 pounds.
My father's illness had been diagnosed as cancer of the pancreas, one of the most malignant forms of the disease. The doctors were doing what they could but told us that he had only three to six months to live. Cancer of the pancreas does not lend itself to radiation therapy or chemotherapy, so they could offer little hope.
A few days later, when my father was sitting up in bed, I approached him and said, Dad, I feel deeply for what's happened to you. It's helped me to look at the ways I've kept my distance and to feel how much I really love you. I leaned over to give him a hug, but his shoulders and arms became tense. Come on, Dad, I really want to give you a hug.
For a moment he looked shocked. Showing affection was not our usual way of relating. I asked him to sit up some more so I could get my arms around him. Then I tried again. This time, however, he was even more tense. I could feel the old resentment starting to build up, and I began to think I don't need this. If you want to die and leave me with the same coldness as always, go right ahead.
For years I had used every instance of my father's resistance and rigidness to blame him, to resent him and to say to myself, See, he doesn't care. This time, however, I thought again and realized the hug was for my benefit as well as my father's. I wanted to express how much I cared for him no matter how hard it was for him to let me in. My father had always been very Germanic and duty-oriented; in his childhood, his parents must have taught him how to shut off his feelings in order to be a man. Letting go of my long-held desire to blame him for our distance, I was actually looking forward to the challenge of giving him more love. I said, C'mon, Dad, put your arms around me. I leaned up close to him at the edge of the bed with his arms around me. Now squeeze. That's it. Now again, squeeze. Very good! In a sense I was showing my father how to hug, and as he squeezed, something happened. For an instant, a feeling of I love you bubbled through. For years our greeting had been a cold and formal handshake that said, Hello, how are you? Now, both he and I waited for that momentary closeness to happen again.
Yet, just at the moment when he would begin to enjoy the feelings of love, something would tighten in his upper torso and our hug would become awkward and strange. It took months before his rigidness gave way and he was able to let the emotions inside him pass through his arms to encircle me.
It was up to me to be the source of many hugs before my father initiated a hug on his own. I was not blaming him, but supporting him; after all, he was changing the habits of an entire lifetime - and that takes time. I knew we were succeeding because more and more we were relating out of care and affection.
Around the two-hundredth hug, he spontaneously said out loud, for the first time I could ever recall, I love you.
-By Harold H. Bloomfield

Please Hear What I AM Not Saying

Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear. For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks, masks that I am afraid to take off, and none of them are me. Pretending is an art that is second nature with me, but don't be fooled, for God's sake don't be fooled. I give you the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within me as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water's calm and I'm in command, and that I need no one. But don't believe me, please.

My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask, my ever-warying ever-concealing mask. Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence. Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant, sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation. My only salvation, and I know it. That is if it is followed by acceptance, if it is followed by love. It's the only thing that liberates me, from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from barriers that I so painstakingly erect.

It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm really worth something. But I don't tell you this. I don't dare. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that I'm just no good, and that you will see this and reject me. So I play the game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance without, and a trembling child within.

And so begins the parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that is really nothing. And nothing of what is everything, of what is crying within me. So when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say. I dislike hiding. Honestly. I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the superficial, phony game. I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me, but you've got to help me.

You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I see to want, or need. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very feeble wings, but wings. With your sensitivity and empathy, and your power to understanding, you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that.

I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a co-creator of the person that is me if you choose to. Please choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble. You alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic and uncertainty, from my lonely prison. So do no pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder I strike back. I fight against the very thing that I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls, and in this lies my hope my
only hope.

Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive. Who am I you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man and I am every woman you meet.

If I Could Do It, You Can Too!

I began life, literally, with nothing. Given up as an infant by my biological mother, an unmarried young woman from the small town of Moose Jaw in Saskatchewan, Canada, I was adopted by a poor, middle-aged couple, John and Mary Linkletter.
My adoptive father was one of the warmest men I've ever known, but he had absolutely no ability as a businessman. A part-time evangelical preacher, he also tried selling insurance, running a small general store and making shoes, all rather unsuccessfully. Eventually we found ourselves living in a charity home run by a local church in San Diego. Then Dad Linkletter felt called by God to become a full-time preacher, and we had even less money. And what we did have was usually shared with whatever neighborhood derelict happened to be looking for a meal.
I graduated from high school early and hit the road as a hobo at the tender age of 16 with the idea of finding my fortune. One of the first things I found, however, was the wrong end of a pistol: my traveling companion and I were held up by a couple of toughs who found us sleeping in a boxcar.
Put your hands straight out and lie flat! one of the men ordered. If this match goes out and I hear anything more I'll shoot. As they searched our pockets and felt around our middles, I wondered if money was all they wanted. I was frightened because I had heard stories of older hobos sexually attacking young boys.
Just then, the match went out ... and was hastily relit. We did not move! The thieves found $1.20 on me but missed $10.00 I had sewn into my coat lining. They also took two dollars from my friend, Denver Fox.
The match went out again and I could tell by their hesitation that they were undecided about something. As Denver and I lay there, inches apart in the darkness, I heard the hammer of the pistol click back and a cold chill ran down my back. I knew they were considering killing us. There was little risk for them. The rain hammering down on the outside of the boxcar would drown out any noise. Frozen with terror, I thought of my father and how he would have prayed for me had he known. Suddenly fear left me and peace and calm returned. As if in response to my own restored self-assurance, they moved back toward us. Then I could feel one of the men push something against my arm.
Here's your thirty cents, he said. Breakfast money.
Today I can look back on 45 yeas as a star of two of the longest-running shows in broadcasting history; I can reflect on the success I've had as a businessman, author, and lecturer; and I can be proud of my wonderful family life - 58 years with the same wife, five children, seven grandchildren, and eight great- grandchildren. I mention this not to be boastful but to encourage others who are at the lower rung of the economic ladder. Keep in mind where I started and remember, if I could do it, you can, too! Yes - you can!

By Art Linkletter

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. 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 awhile, 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?"

The 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."
- Women's Spirit

What Matter Most?

Name the ten wealthiest people in the world.
Name the last ten Heisman trophy winners.
Name the last ten winners of the Miss America contest.
Name eight people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.
How about the last ten Academy Award winners?
The last decade's worth of World Series winners?

How did you do? With the exception of you trivia hounds, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday too well.

Surprising how quickly we forget, isn't it? And what I've mentioned above are no second-rate achievements. These are the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:

Think of three people you enjoy spending time with.
Name ten people who have taught you something worthwhile.
Name five friends who have helped you in a difficult time.
List a few teachers who have aided your journey through school.
Name half-a-dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.

Easier? The lesson?
The people who make a difference are not the ones with the credentials, but the ones with the concern.

Miracles can happen when have Faith

I once heard that when God closes a door, He opens a window. I have come to believe this because of the many times I have found myself backed into a corner, facing personal disaster, and a "window" has been opened for me.
I first learned of the miracle of "windows" when I complained to someone about a desperate financial situation I was in. He comforted me by telling me that many years earlier he and his wife had huddled in bed one night with their dog and two babies because there wasn't enough money to pay the gas bill. At the moment of their greatest desperation, he said, they inherited some money that had solved their financial problems.
Since that time I have witnessed similar types of "windows" in my own life. Time and time again when all hope seemed lost and I had no options left, something unusual happened that saved the day. Others have told me of being fired and having a better job present itself shortly, receiving gifts of money when bills needed to be paid, and getting unexpected advice that solved a serious problem.
Whenever my back is to the wall and I'm starting to get scared that I'm not going to be okay, I try to quiet myself and remember all the times my Higher Power has reached down and opened a window for me. I find that when I can focus on opening windows, not slamming doors, I can see solutions where none may have seemed present before.
Moral: Nothing happens to anybody which he is not fitted by nature to bear.

Mr. Washington

One day in 11th grade, I went into a classroom to wait for a friend of mine. When I went into the room, the teacher, Mr. Washington, suddenly appeared and asked me to go to the board to write something, to work something out. I told him that I couldn't do it. And he said, Why not?
I said, Because I am not one of your students. He said, It doesn't matter. Go to the board anyhow. I said, I can't do that. He said, Why not?
And I paused because I was somewhat embarrassed. I said, Because I am Educable Mentally Retarded. He came from behind his desk and he looked at me and he said, Don't ever say that again. Someone's opinion of you does not have to become your reality. It was a very liberating moment for me. On one hand, I was humiliated because the other students laughed at me. They knew that I was in Special Education. But on the other hand, I was liberated because he began to bring to my attention that I did not have to live within the context of what another person's view of me was. And so Mr. Washington became my mentor. Prior to this experience, I had failed twice in school. I was identified as Educable Mentally Retarded in the fifth grade, was put back from the fifth grade into the fourth grade, and failed again, when I was in the eighth grade. So this person made a dramatic difference in my life.
I always say that he operates in the consciousness of Goethe, who said, Look at a man the way that he is, he only becomes worse. But look at him as if he were what he could be, and then he becomes what he should be. Like Calvin Lloyd, Mr. Washington believed that Nobody rises to low expectations. This man always gave students the feeling that he had high expectations for them and we strove, all of the students strove, to live up to what those expectations were.
One day, when I was still a junior, I heard him giving a speech to some graduating seniors. He said to them, You have greatness within you. You have something special. If just one of you can get a glimpse of a larger vision of yourself, of who you really are, of what it is you bring to the planet, of your specialness, then in a historical context, the world will never be the same again. You can make your parents proud. You can make your school proud. You can make your community proud. You can touch millions of people's lives. He was talking to the seniors, but it seemed like that speech was for me.
I remember when they gave him a standing ovation. Afterwards, I caught up to him in the parking lot and I said, Mr. Washington, do you remember me? I was in the auditorium when you were talking to the seniors. He said, What were you doing there? You are a junior. I said, I know. But that speech you were giving, I heard your voice coming through the auditorium doors. That speech was for me, Sir. You said they had greatness within them. I was in that auditorium. Is there greatness within me, Sir? He said, Yes, Mr. Brown. But what about the fact that I failed English and math and history, and I am going to have to go to summer school. What about that, Sir? I am slower than most kids. I am not as smart as my brother or my sister who's going to the University of Miami. It doesn't matter. It just means that you have to work harder. Your grades don't determine who you are or what you can produce in your life.
I want to buy my mother a home. It's possible, Mr. Brown. You can do that. And he turned to walk away again. “Mr. Washington? What do you want now? Uh, I am the one, Sir. You remember me, remember my name. One day you're gonna hear it. I'm gonna make you proud. I'm the one, Sir. School was a real struggle for me. I was passed from one grade to another because I was not a bad kid. I was a nice kid; I was a fun kid. I made people laugh. I was polite. I was respectful. So teachers would pass me on, which was not helpful to me. But Mr. Washington made demands on me. He made me accountable. But he enabled me to believe that I could handle it, that I could do it.
He became my instructor my senior year, even though I was Special Education. Normally, Special Ed students don't take Speech and Drama, but they made special provisions for me to be with him. The principal realized the kind of bonding that had taken place and the impact that he'd made on me because I had begun to do well academically. For the first time in my life I made the honor roll. I wanted to travel on a trip with the drama department and you had to be on the honor roll in order to make the trip out of town. That was a miracle for me! Mr. Washington restructured my own picture of who I am. He gave me a larger vision of myself, beyond my mental conditioning and my circumstances.
Years later, I produced five specials that appeared on public television. I had some friends call him when my program, You Deserve, was on the educational television channel in Miami. I was sitting by the phone waiting when he called me in Detroit. He said, May I speak to Mr. Brown, please? Who's calling?
You know who's calling.
Oh, Mr. Washington, it's you.
You were the one, weren't you?
Yes, Sir, I was.

-By Les Brown

Gilbert and his Father

My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in the Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and was told to return home and give all to "dad."

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried.

Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure it all out. The project began.

Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom).

Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue Lighting," the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride in his heart we headed for the big race.

Once there my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilberts car was obviously the only car that was made interlay on his own. All the others cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility Gilbert was the only boy without a man by his side. A couple of the boys who were from single family's at least had a grandfather or uncle at their side, Gilbert had "mom."

As the race began it was done in elimination fashion. you kept racing as long as you were a winner. One by one the cars raced down the sanded ramp. Finally it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy eight year old asked if the race could be stopped for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped.

Gilbert hit his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father.

He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood,a smile on his face and announced, "Okay I'm ready."

As the crowed cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father, their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you." as the crowed roared in approval.

The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with a microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?"

To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."

Live for Others

Ask nothing, want nothing in return. Give what you have to give, it will come back to you - but do not think of that now. It will come back multiplied - a thousandfold - but the attention must not be on that. You have the power to give. Give, and there it ends.

There is no higher virtue than charity. The lowest man is he whose hand draws in receiving, and he is the highest man whose hand goes out in giving. The hand was made to give always. Give the last bit of bread you have, even if you are starving. You will be perfect, you will become God.

This life is short, the vanities of the world are transient, but they alone live who live for others, the rest are more dead than alive.

Do not stand on a high pedestal and take five cents in your hand and say, " Here, my poor man," but be grateful that the poor man is there so that by making a gift to him, you are able to help yourself. It is not the receiver that is blessed, but it is the giver.

We have to bear in mind that we are all debtors to the world and the world does not owe us anything. It is a great privilege for all of us to be allowed to do anything for the world. In helping the world we really help ourselves.

In the world take always the position of the giver. Give everything and look for no return. Give love, give help, give service, give any little thing you can, but keep out barter. Make no conditions and none will be imposed. Let us give out of our own bounty, just as God gives to us.

God's Perfection

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools. At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?" The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that He seeks is in the way people react to this child."
He then told the following story about his son, Shaya: One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his team-mates.

Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's team-mates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his team-mate swung the bat and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first!" Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.

As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third."

As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home!" Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."

Instructions for Life

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
2. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.
3. Follow the three Rs: Respect for self, Respect for others, Responsibility for all your actions.
4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
6. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
7. When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
8. Spend some time alone.
9. Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.
10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
11. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll be able to enjoy it a second time.
12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life. Do all you can to create a tranquil, harmonious home.
13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.
14. Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.
15. Be gentle with the earth.
16. Once a year, go someplace you've never been before.
17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.
19. Call your mother.
20. Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon.

A Friend's Smile

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd." I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friend tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.

As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.

He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes. We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Damn boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.

Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him! Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began.

"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach... but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them.

I am going to tell you a story." I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.

Happiness in this Universe

Everywhere in this universe, in one respect man's condition is the same. No matter how vastly different he may be in the outer appearance of his life, different countries, different races, different cultures, different languages, different ways of living, eating, dressing, etc., he may be completely different in all of these aspects, but there is one thing that is the same to all human individuals. And it is this factor that binds them into a global unity. If analyzed, it will be discovered that all humanity is engaged ceaselessly, day after day, from the cradle to the grave, only in trying to avoid painful experiences and in trying to attain that which gives them happiness.

Yet, beloved seeker let me ask you this one very important question. Since the time of creation, is there one single individual who has been born onto this earth that can stand up boldly and declare, "In my life I have never experienced any sorrow or pain or suffering whatsoever. My whole life has been a life full of joy, full of happiness, full of bliss". You will find that there is not even one single individual on earth who has not had at some time or another some type of pain or suffering or grief or sorrow.

This is a world of pain and sorrow. With a few minutes thoughtful reflection you will see that this is so. Many painful experiences are brought about by natural forces beyond our control-floods, earthquakes, tidal waves, cyclones, fires, famines. Then there is suffering brought about by other forms of life-germs, microbes, bacteria, viruses, insects, reptiles, animals. But by far the greatest source of suffering is caused by man himself. It is suffering that is self-created, that arises within our own psychological self due to desire and attachment for worldly objects- love and hate, anger and passion, fear, worry, tension, anxiety, jealousy, envy, greed, frustration, disappointment, disillusionment, the sorrow of separation, bereavement, and all other varieties of restlessness of mind due to our multitude of desires.

Everyone thinks happiness is to be found in objects and experiences. Everyone thinks, "If I could only attain certain objects, if I could only possess them, if I could experience them, I will get happiness." In spite of countless disappointments and disillusionment, man never learns.

There is not an iota of happiness in earthly objects. No object is perfect. They do not have in them the power or ability to give you lasting happiness or joy because they are finite and they are imperfect. Otherwise, they must be able to give a homogeneous state of happiness to all beings at all times under all conditions. But what do you actually see? If you like milk and you take a glass full of sweetened milk flavored with spices; the first glass may give you satisfaction. And if you are pressed upon to take another glass, the second glass may give satisfaction, but it is not the same degree of happiness or pleasure as was the first glass. And if your stomach is already full with two glasses of milk, if you try to take a third glass of milk, it becomes unpleasant & undesirable. And if a fourth glass of milk is forced fed on you, it produces nausea and you will have to throw it up.

Where then is real happiness? If milk had in it the power of giving happiness, it must be able to grant you this happiness at all times, under all conditions. It cannot change its nature. Such examples show that all experiences derived from the contact of senses with their respective sense-objects ultimately are experiences that end in disappointment.

Does happiness really rest in the World tour that seems impossible? Or can you find happiness in a little walk down the lane, hand in hand with the love of your life? Yes, just as unbelievable it sounds; it is true that most people in this world WAIT for happiness like they wait to catch the next train. We wait for big things to happen in life and forget the small little packages of joy that come our way. We seem to forget all those wonderful things that we possess and continually crib about what is beyond reach. It is appropriate to look at the advice of the Great Teacher Lord Krishna when he said: "O Arjuna, all these experiences, brought about by the contact of one or other of the five senses with their respective sense objects, are ultimately the source of sorrow. There is no real happiness in these sense contacts and sense experiences. They are but mere momentary sensations producing pain."

Moral:
Even the most mundane things in life can become the most beautiful experiences if viewed in a different perspective, if tackled differently. In simple words, it is the Attitude that brings you happiness in most cases than the actual object of joy. Making best of life's situations, being content with what you have are sure ways to everlasting happiness. One does not need to chase happiness then, it will come and perch itself in your life like a beautiful butterfly.

Spirituality: A Mantra for Stress Management

A mother has killed her child, or the farmer has committed a suicide, or a student has committed a suicide or a professional has committed a suicide are the frequent news lines today. I believe that the root cause for such actions is sheer mismanagement of human stresses which puts him or her in an uncontrolled life situation.

“Be Spiritual” is the best approach of successfully handling these complex stresses. More than 100 years ago Swami Vivekananda proclaimed “When the life - blood is strong and pure, no disease germ can live in that body. Our life - blood is spirituality. If it flows clear, if it flows strong and pure and vigorous, everything is right; political, social, any other material defects, even the poverty of the land, will all be cured if that blood is pure…. That is the national mind, that is the national life - current. Follow it and it leads to glory. Give it up and you die; death will be the only result, annihilation the only effect, the moment you step beyond that life - current.”

We need to understand this quickly and have to translate it in our day to day actions to relieve our stresses.

Our Vedanta confirms that Spirituality is a science and it is the most practical thing which can be verified globally. If one performs spiritual disciplines, the result is bound to come.

To train the mind to obey you is the ideal of spiritual discipline. After practicing certain spiritual disciplines our mind will become pure and steady. This will help in bringing the mind under our control and thereby we can manage the mental stresses under different situations of our life. The experts say that if you practice meditation continuously for seven or eight years you will find peace and bliss, and enjoy the fruits of your practices. Even after one year steady practise you will find some result.

In brief, what are the spiritual disciplines? Always be truthful. Be self-controlled. Watch your speech. Envy no one. Hate no one (including yourselves). Be jealous of no one. Practise chastity. We must practice spirituality when we are young. As we grow older the mind looses its vigour. Therefore, be up and doing, Be Spiritual !!

Truths of Appreciation!!

My friend, Bob Danzig, has an amazing story. Simple words of appreciation and encouragement changed his life. Bob was in five foster homes during his youth, and said he spent his childhood trying to find someone to love and appreciate him.

When he was nine years old, he had a new social worker. He said after she had done all the paperwork to move him to yet another foster home, she sat him down, looked him directly in the eyes, and said, "Bobby, I want you to always remember these words: YOU ARE WORTHWHILE!"

Bob says that no one had ever said anything like that to him, and each time they met, she repeated those words. They became an affirmation of appreciation that he heard over and over again in his head.

Bob graduated at sixteen, not because he was smart, he says, but because he got mixed up in the system! He soon took a job at the Albany New York Times as a copy boy, and his very first boss was a woman named Margaret.

After he had worked there about six months, Margaret called him into her office one day and asked him to sit down. He thought for sure he was going to be fired! She looked him right in the eyes and said to him, "I have been the office manager for 15 years – I have been observing you – and I believe YOU ARE FULL OF PROMISE."

Those words, on that day, gave him permission to aspire.

Those two positive messages of appreciation played over and over again in his head and ultimately gave him the courage to be the very best he could be. Sixteen years later he became the Publisher of the Albany New York Times, and seven years after that, he became CEO of Hearst Newspapers, one of the largest newspaper companies in the world-and he credits it all to those simple words of appreciation and love.

What a wonderful example of how little gifts of appreciation can make such a difference in a life!

Zig Ziglar had this to say: "You never know when a moment and a few sincere words can have an impact on a life."
--Barbara Glanz

The Power of Words & Friends

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily 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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble
remembering how to fly"-Anonymous

Baby Buddhas

I like to think that if the Buddha were alive today, he would hang out at the local playground. I could imagine him playing on the swings or goofing around the water fountain on a hot summer day. He would, I suspect, encounter several kindred spirits in the sandbox. The boy digging a hole and singing to himself. The two friends burying each other's feet. The mother nursing a baby.
I didn't start to picture the Buddha at the playground until I had a child of my own, and also became an elementary school teacher. I had thought a lot about the Buddhist principles of mindfulness and compassion, but it wasn't until I was living and working with small children that I truly began to try and put those principles into practice. Two questions kept occurring to me: How can the principles of mindfulness and compassion enrich our parenting? What can babies and young children teach their parents about mindfulness and compassion?
In his account of the Buddha's life, Old Path White Clouds, Thich Nhat Hanh describes a discussion about mindfulness that the Buddha has with a group of village children. To demonstrate the value of living in the present moment, the Buddha explains the difference between eating a tangerine with awareness and without awareness. With awareness, the sweet fragrance and flavor of the tangerine can be fully savored, but when eaten without awareness, the tangerine's smell and taste remain unnoticed.
This discussion occurs early in the Buddha's spiritual journey, just after he has discovered the path he will follow, but before he has set out to formally teach his wisdom to monks and other seekers. It is noteworthy and highly appropriate that children are the Buddha's first audience for an account of mindfulness. Unlike adults, who are often preoccupied with the past and future, young children and babies intuitively know how to live in the here and now.
--Jennifer Soalt

Swami Vivekananda Quotations

1. The only test of good things is that they make us strong.
- Swami Vivekananda

2. Is it not tremendously blasphemous to believe against reason? What right have we not to use the greatest gift that God has given to us? I am sure God will pardon a man who will use his reason and cannot believe, rather than a man who believes blindly instead of using the facilities He has given him.
- Swami Vivekananda

3. We are what our thoughts have made us; so take care about what you think. Words are secondary. Thoughts live; they travel far.
- Swami Vivekananda

4. The first sign of your becoming religious is that you are becoming cheerful.
- Swami Vivekananda

5. This I have seen in life, he who is overcautious about himself falls into dangers at every step; he who is afraid of losing honor and respect, gets only disgrace; he who is always afraid of loss always losses.
- Swami Vivekananda

6. In judging others we always judge them by our own ideals. That is not as it should be. Everyone must be judged according to his own ideal, and not by that of anyone else.
- Swami Vivekananda

Strength Strength Strength.......

First, believe in the world—that there is meaning behind everything.

Don't look back—forward, infinite energy, infinite enthusiasm, infinite daring, and infinite patience—then alone can great deeds be accomplished.

This is the first lesson to learn: be determined not to curse anything outside, not to lay the blame upon anyone outside, but stand up, lay the blame on yourself. You will find that is always true. Get hold of yourself.

Tell the truth boldly, whether it hurts or not. Never pander to weakness. If truth is too much for intelligent people and sweeps them away, let them go; the sooner the better.

This life is a hard fact; work your way through it boldly, though it may be adamantine; no matter, the soul is stronger.

This I have seen in life—those who are overcautious about themselves fall into dangers at every step; those who are afraid of losing honor and respect, get only disgrace; and those who are always afraid of loss, always lose.

"Face the brutes." That is a lesson for all life—face the terrible, face it boldly. Like the monkeys, the hardships of life fall back when we cease to flee before them.
Those who work at a thing heart and soul not only achieve success in it but through their absorption in that they also realize the supreme truth—Brahman. Those who work at a thing with their whole heart receive help from God.

I, for one, thoroughly believe that no power in the universe can withhold from anyone anything they really deserve.

The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you free.

Fear is death, fear is sin, fear is hell, fear is unrighteousness, fear is wrong life. All the negative thoughts and ideas that are in the world have proceeded from this evil spirit of fear.
-Swami Vivekananda

Everybody Can Do Something

Roger Crawford had everything he needed to play tennis -- except two hands and a leg.
When Roger's parents saw their son for the first time, they saw a baby with a thumb- like projection extended directly out of his right forearm and a thumb and one finger stuck out of his left forearm. He had no palms. The baby's arms and legs were shortened, and he had only three toes on his shrunken right foot and a withered left leg, which would later be amputated.
The doctor said Roger suffered from ectrodactylism, a rare birth defect affecting only one out of 90,000 children born in the United States. The doctor said Roger would probably never walk or care for himself.
Fortunately Roger's parents didn't believe the doctor. My parents always taught me that I was only as handicapped as I wanted to be,” said Roger. They never allowed me to feel sorry for myself or take advantage of people because of my handicap. Once I got into trouble because my school papers were continually late, explained Roger who had to hold his pencil with both hands to write slowly. I asked Dad to write a note to my teachers, asking for a two-day extension on my assignments.
Instead Dad made me start writing my paper two days early! Roger's father always encouraged him to get involved in sports, teaching Roger to catch and throw a volleyball, and play backyard football after school. At age 12, Roger managed to win a spot on the school football team.
Before every game, Roger would visualize his dream of scoring a touchdown. Then one day he got his chance. The ball landed in his arms and off he ran as fast as he could on his artificial leg toward the goal line, his coach and teammates cheering wildly. But at the ten-yard line, a guy from the other team caught up with Roger, grabbing his left ankle. Roger tried to pull his artificial leg free, but instead it ended up being pulled off.
I was still standing up, recalls Roger. I didn't know what else to do so I started hopping towards the goal line. The referee ran over and threw his hands into the air. Touchdown! You know, even better than the six points was the look on the face of the other kid who was holding my artificial leg. Roger's love of sports grew and so did his self-confidence.
But not every obstacle gave way to Roger's determination. Eating in the lunchroom with the other kids watching him fumble with his food proved very painful to Roger, as did his repeated failure in typing class. I learned a very good lesson from typing class, said Roger. You can't do everything - it's better to concentrate on what you can do. One thing Roger could do was swing a tennis racket. Unfortunately, when he swung it hard, his weak grip usually launched it into space. By luck, Roger stumbled upon an odd- looking tennis racket in a sports shop and accidentally wedged his finger between its double-barred handle when he picked it up. The snug fit made it possible for Roger to swing, serve and volley like an able-bodied player. He practiced every day and was soon playing - and losing - matches. But Roger persisted. He practiced and practiced and played and played. Surgery on the two fingers of his left hand enabled Roger to grip his special racket better, greatly improving his game. Although he had no role models to guide him, Roger became obsessed with tennis and in time he started to win. Roger went on to play college tennis, finishing his tennis career with 22 wins and 11 losses. He later became the first physically handicapped tennis player to be certified as a teaching professional by the United States Professional Tennis Association. Roger now tours the country, speaking to groups about what it takes to be a winner, no matter who you are.
The only difference between you and me is that you can see my handicap, but I can't see yours. We all have them. When people ask me how I've been able to overcome my physical handicaps, I tell them that I haven't overcome anything. I've simply learned what I can't do - such as play the piano or eat with chopsticks - but more importantly, I've learned what I can do. Then I do what I can with all my heart and soul.
-By Jack Canfield

Slow Poison....

A long time ago in China, a girl named Li-Li got married and went to live with her husband and mother-in-law. In a very short time, Li-Li found that she couldn't get along with her mother-in-law at all.
Their personalities were very different, and Li-Li was angered by many of her mother-in-law's habits. In addition, she criticized Li-Li constantly.

Days passed days, and weeks passed weeks. Li-Li and her mother-in-law never stopped arguing and fighting. But what made the situation even worse was that, according to ancient Chinese tradition, Li-Li had to bow to her mother-in-law and obey her every wish.

All the anger and unhappiness in the house was causing Li-Li's poor husband great distress.

Finally, Li-Li could not stand her mother-in-law's bad temper and dictatorship any longer, and she decided to do something about it.

Li-Li went to see her father's good friend, Mr. Huang, who sold herbs. She told him the situation and asked if he would give her some poison so that she could solve the problem once and for all. Mr. Huang thought for a while, and finally said, Li-Li, I will help you solve your problem, but you must listen to me and obey what I tell you. Li-Li said, "Yes, Mr. Huang, I will do whatever you tell me to do."

Mr. Huang went into the back room, and returned in a few minutes with a package of herbs.

He told Li-Li, "You can't use a quick acting poison to get rid of your mother-in-law, because that would cause people to become suspicious. Therefore, I have given you a number of herbs that will slowly build up poison in her body. Every other day prepare some delicious meal and put a little of these herbs in her serving. Now, in order to make sure that nobody suspects you when she dies, you must be very careful to act very friendly towards her. Don't argue with her, obey her every wish, and treat her like a queen."

Li-Li was so happy. She thanked Mr. Huang and hurried home to start her plot of murdering her mother-in-law.

Weeks went by, and months went by, and every other day, Li-Li served the specially treated food to her mother-in-law. She remembered what Mr. Huang had said about avoiding suspicion, so she controlled her temper, obeyed her mother-in-law, and treated her like her own mother. After six months had passed, the whole household had changed.

Li-Li had practiced controlling her temper so much that she found that she almost never got mad or upset. She hadn't had an argument with her mother-in-law in six months because she now seemed much kinder and easier to get along with.

The mother-in-law's attitude toward Li-Li changed, and she began to love Li-Li like her own daughter. She kept telling friends and relatives that Li-Li was the best daughter-in- law one could ever find. Li-Li and her mother-in-law were now treating each other like a real mother and daughter. Li-Li's husband was very happy to see what was happening.

One day, Li-Li came to see Mr. Huang and asked for his help again. She said, "Dear Mr. Huang, please help me to keep the poison from killing my mother-in-law! She's changed into such a nice woman, and I love her like my own mother. I do not want her to die because of the poison I gave her."

Mr. Huang smiled and nodded his head. "Li-Li, there's nothing to worry about. I never gave you any poison. The herbs I gave you were vitamins to improve her health. The only poison was in your mind and your attitude toward her, but that has been all washed away by the love which you gave to her."

Some Important Lessons Life Teaches US...

1- Most Important Lesson

During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one:

"What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.
Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say 'hello'."

"I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

Second Important Lesson- Pickup in the Rain

One night, at 11:30 PM, an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rain storm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride.

Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxi cab. She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man's door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached.
It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others."
Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole.

Third Important Lesson - Always remember those who serve you

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.
"How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked.
"Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. "Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient.
"Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied."
The little boy again counted his coins.
"I'll have the plain ice cream," he said.
The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies - You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he wanted to have enough left to leave her a tip.

Fourth Important Lesson - The Obstacle in Our Path

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it.
Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear, But none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.

Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road.

After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been.

The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many of us never understand.

Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.

Fifth Important Lesson - Giving When it Counts

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease.

Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister.

I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save her.." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?"

Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

You see, understanding and attitude, after all, is everything.

. . . . remember to:

"Work like you don't need the money. ~ Love like you've never been hurt, and ~ Dance like you do when nobody's watching."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Team Work can Work Wonders!!

A flock of hungry pigeons were flying across the sky in search of food. Having traveled a long distance, they felt tired and settled down on a tree. Just below the tree, they saw grains strewn all over the ground. The pigeons were happy to have found enough food to eat. All the pigeons came down from the tree and started eating the grains. As they were doing so, a huge net fell on them and trapped them all.

The pigeons were taken aback. They noticed a hunter sitting at a distance from the tree, a bow and arrow in hand. The pigeons realized it was the hunter who had attracted them by strewing the grains and it was he who had trapped them in the net. The hunter got up and began to move towards the pigeons.

The leader of the pigeons spoke, "Friends, we are in great trouble. The hunter will catch us if we do not act swiftly in a few seconds. There is only one option available at this moment. Let all of us use our force together and fly up along with the net. If all of us use our force and fly together, we can fly carrying the net along with us. Let us start now."

All the pigeons agreed with him and flew high carrying the net along with them. After traveling sufficient distance away from the hunter, the pigeons settled on a tree and carefully came out of the net one by one and thus escaped the evil design of the hunter.

POINTS TO PONDER

1. Teamwork can work wonders.
2. A group of a people becomes a team when members have a common goal, and is goal links members to the team.
3. In a good team, members use each others strengths to balance their weaknesses.
4. Teambuilding requires great care. It is important to choose the right people who can and will work in tandem.
5. Focus should be on the team's progress, not individual growth.
6. Coordination between team members helps in completing the toughest job!

Teamwork leverages the strength of each team member and works around the weaknesses. Teamwork represents a set of values that encourage behaviors such as listening constructively, respecting different views and recognizing the achievements and interests of others.
There is frank and open exchange of ideas, and the team leader helps in increasing trust and mutual respect among the team members.

Good teamwork of team and individual goals. It also ensures that collectively team is far more effective than the sum of individual effectiveness results in alignment, and each member experiences pride and belongingness.

Bad News, Good News-Who Knows?

The Chinese tell the story of an old man who owned a bony plow horse. One spring afternoon the horse ran away. The old man's friends, trying to console him, said, "We're so sorry about your horse, old man. What a misfortune you've had." But the old man said, "Bad news, good news-who knows?"

A few days later the horse returned home leading a herd of wild horses. Again the friends came running. Filled with jubilation, they cried, "How wonderful!" But the old man whispered, "Good news, bad news-who knows?"

Then the next day, when the farmer's son was trying to ride one of the new horses, the young man was thrown to the ground and broke both legs. The friends gasped. The old man stood still and said, "Bad news, good news-who knows?"

And a short time later when the village went to war and all the young men were drafted to fight, the farmer's son was excused because of two broken legs. Good news. Bad news. Who knows?

LESSONS FROM GEESE by Milton Olson

1. As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "uplift" for the bird following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds 71% greater flying range than if the bird flew alone.
Moral: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going quicker and easier because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.

2. Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to fly alone, and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the "lifting" power of the bird immediately in front.
Moral: If we have as much sense as a goose, we will stay in formation with those who are headed where we want to go (and be willing to accept their help as well as give ours to the others).

3. When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation and another goose flies at the point position.
Moral: It pays to take turns doing the hard tasks and sharing leadership - with people, as with geese, we are interdependent with each other.

4. The geese in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
Moral: We need to make sure our honking from behind is encouraging - not something else.

5. When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two geese drop out of formation and follow it down to help and protect it. They stay with it until it is able to fly again or dies. Then they launch out on their own, with another formation, or catch up with the flock.
Moral: If we have as much sense as geese we too will stand by each other in difficult times as well as when we are strong.

Steps Toward Peace of Mind

Peace of mind is not just something that comes to us when everything is going well. It is something that comes from a combination of many sources, and that can sustain us even when things are not going well. Even through tragedy.

1. Reserves
Not necessarily the large reserves that we sometimes refer to in coaching (though those would be wonderful, too), but awareness that you are not going to run out of the minor things that can easily cause disruption in our lives, e.g. gas/petrol, postage stamps, toilet paper, essential food items.

2. Forgiveness
Know that you need not be full of anger, or nagging hostility, toward anyone, including yourself. Remember that we all do the best we can with what we believe we have. There are few people who harm others on purpose.

3. Acceptance... of self and of others
In the same vein, know that the only person about whom you have the right to make decisions is yourself. Others will be what they will be, depending on their own combination of circumstances, genetic inheritance and choices. For yourself, know that your choices are and always will be your own. Don't berate yourself for your past, it is past. If you don't care for it, make the decisions necessary to create a different future.

4. Clear conscience
Act always as though someone else who you respect will know what you do. If you would not want others to know that you did something, then don't do it, for you (and quite likely someone or Someone else) WILL know.

5. Support
Know where you can turn for support, for a shoulder to cry on, and for other forms of help when you need it. Know your friends, keep your fences mended, and keep a list of agencies and institutions to which you can turn if you must. Never let pride stop you from requesting help when you need it.

6. Surroundings that you can enjoy
Your surroundings may not look like a magazine cover, but they can be kept sufficiently tidy, organized, and attractive that you feel pleasure as you look around you. We often think of surroundings as what we are aware of visually, but the other senses may be involved too. We may need music, or silence. We may choose to enjoy the scent of burning candles, or of baking, or of well polished furniture.

7. No undone have-tos, deadlines, overdue debts
These will undermine peace of mind every time. Decide on a schedule to get rid of them. If you have to call on someone to keep you on schedule with this, enlist a friend, a family member, or even a coach. Just knowing that you are making progress will enhance your peace of mind. Catching up on these things will do so even more.

8. Know that you are connected to Something
If you are religiously or spiritually inclined, then you already know this. Even if you believe there is nothing beyond us except nature and the earth, then at least you know there is that. Know that you ARE connected. Trust that connection, and know that you DO belong.

9. Know that you are at choice, not a victim
Recognize that you DO have choices. If you feel you do not, look again, and see that what you have previously dismissed as lack of choice is actually a choice that certain alternatives are unacceptable, or that you had not seen them in the first place. Reconsider your options. Brainstorm with someone you trust.

10. Knowledge that you can affect your world, that you need not be a pawn Sometimes it is difficult to imagine that any one person can change the world. We certainly need to change ourselves before we can change anything else, and even then we do not have the right to change other people. Yet the changes that we make in our own behavior, our willingness to reach out and help, volunteer, to try to make the world a better place, CAN be far-reaching. If every person reading this list were to reach out... Imagine!
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Each man has a choice in life; he may approach it as a creator or critic, a lover or a hater, a giver or a taker, a liar or an earnest man. It is a matter of choice.
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The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read 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 it's 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 in midair 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 like 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 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.

India's Regeneration Living Inspiration

Let them talk of India's regeneration as they like. Let me tell you as one who has been working -- at least trying to work -- all his life, that there is no regeneration for India until you be spiritual. Not only so, but upon it depends the welfare of the whole world. For I must tell you frankly that the very foundations of Western civilisation have been shaken to their base. The mightiest buildings, if built upon the loose sand foundations of materialism, must come to grief one day, must totter to their destruction some day. The history of the world is our witness. Nation after nation has arisen and based its greatness upon materialism, declaring man was all matter. Ay, in Western language, a man gives up the ghost, but in our language a man gives up his body. The Western man is a body first, and then he has a soul; with us a man is a soul and spirit, and he has a body. Therein lies a world of difference. All such civilizations, therefore, as have been based upon such sand foundations as material comfort and all that, have disappeared one after another, after short lives, from the face of the world; but the civilization of India and the other nations that have stood at India's feet to listen and learn, namely Japan and China, live even to the present day, and there are signs even of revival among them. Their lives are like that of the Phoenix, a thousand times destroyed, but ready to spring up again more glorious. But a materialistic civilisation once dashed down, never can come up again; that building once thrown down is broken into pieces once for all. Therefore have patience and wait, the future is in store for us.

From: The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda, Volume 3

To Enter the Kingdom of God, We Must Become as Little Children

This is a first-person account from a mother about her family as they ate dinner on Christmas Day in a small restaurant many miles from their home. Nancy, the mother, relates: We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there."
He pounded his fat baby hands on the high-chair tray. His eyes were wide with excitement and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man with a tattered rag of a coat; dirty, greasy and worn. His pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.
"Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi, hi there."
Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do you know patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo." Nobody thought he old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.
We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to side-step him and avoid any air he might be breathing.
As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's pick-me-up, position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's.
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain and hard labor - gently, so gently cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back.
No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms for a moment, and then his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby."
Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift." I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes.
I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not, I felt it was God asking --"Are you willing to share your son for a moment?", when He shared His for all eternity.
The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."

Rocks in a Jar

One day an expert in time management was speaking to a group of business students, and, to drive home a point, used an illustration that those students will never forget. As he stood in front of the group of high-powered, over-achievers he said "Okay, time for a quiz." Then he pulled out a one-gallon, wide mouthed Mason jar and set it on the table in front of him.

The speaker produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them one at a time, into the jar. When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked "Is the jar full?" Everyone in the class said, "Yes." The presenter then asked "Really?" as he reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. He dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the space between the big rocks.

He asked the group once more, "Is the jar full?" By this time the class was on to him. "Probably not," one of them answered. "Good!" he replied. He reached under the table, brought out a bucket of sand and dumped the sand in the jar. The sand went into all of the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel, and once more he asked the question, "Is the jar full?" "No!" the class shouted.

Again he said, "Good," as he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. The speaker then looked at the class and asked, "What is the point of this illustration?"

One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit some more things in it!"

"No," the speaker replied, "that's not the point. The truth this illustration teaches us is: If you don't put the big rocks in first, you will never fit them in at all."

What are the "Big Rocks" in your life?
Your children?
Your loved ones?
Your dreams?
A worthy cause?
Teaching or mentoring others?
Doing things that you love?
Time for yourself?
Your health?
Your spouse?

Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in first or you will never get them in at all. If your sweat the little stuff (the gravel, the sand, the water) then you fill your life with little things you worry about that don't really matter, and you'll never have the real quality time you need to spend on the big important stuff (the big rocks).

So tonight, or in the morning, when you are reflecting on this short story, ask yourself this question: What are the big rocks in my life? Then, put those in first priority.

Our Healing Process Helps Our Family

If you're working on your own inner healing, you will function as an inspirational role model and will relieve the burden of everyone around you, especially your family members. Children, particularly, always pick up, energetically, their parents' problems, issues, or patterns and perpetuate them in their own lives. If the parent heals on the emotional level, he or she will pass that legacy on to the children, who will not have to deal with the same issues in their own lives.
This is true whether or not your children are grown. If you as a parent begin to deal with your own issues and learn to take better care of yourself, love yourself more, and do your own healing, even your grown children who live across the country or around the world will feel it on some level and will benefit from your process.

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As I heal, my whole family is healing.
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On Attitude

"An optimist expects his dreams to come true; a pessimist expects his nightmares to." Laurence J. Peter

Sometimes the only thing we can change is our attitude--and that is enough. Our attitude can be much more important than the objective reality of the situation. One person who's stuck in traffic fumes at fate, snarling, "Why does this always happen to me?" Meanwhile, the person in the car just behind, stuck in the same impasse, sees the first person's "lost" time as "found" time -- the perfect opportunity to study a new language, meditate, or think through a problem without the interruption of a telephone call or visitors. One person sees only a problem and responds accordingly; the other sees an opportunity and likewise acts accordingly. The traffic jam is the same of both of them, but their attitudes about it are different --as are their blood pressures.
Some see the past as a cruel sentence of doom dispensed by an avenging God. Others see it as an opportunity, fairly given or not, to build strength and gain wisdom with the help of a loving God. The difference is all in the attitude.

Co-dependence versus Interdependence

Co-dependence is the unconscious dependency that exists when we don't recognize and accept our need for others. Interdependence is the conscious acknowledgment of our need for one another.
The need for connection and contact between human beings is very important to acknowledge. Not only do we need intimate relationships with our partners, nuclear families, and close friends, but also we need a sense of connectedness to an extended family, tribe, or community. We need to have a feeling of belonging to a larger group. Ultimately, we need to feel that we are part of the whole human family and connected to all beings on earth.

Something To Think About

When William Stidger taught at Boston University, he once reflected upon the great number of unthanked people in his life. Those who had helped nurture him, inspire him or cared enough about him to leave a lasting impression.

One was a schoolteacher he'd not heard of in many years. But he remembered that she had gone out of her way to put a love of verse in him, and Will had loved poetry all his life. He wrote a letter of thanks to her.

The reply he received, written in the feeble scrawl of the aged, began, "My dear Willie." He was delighted. Now over 50, bald and a professor, he didn't think there was a person left in the world who would call him "Willie." Here is a copy of that letter:

"My dear Willie,

I cannot tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely and, like the last leaf of autumn, lingering behind. You will be interested to know that I taught school for 50 years and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue-cold morning and it cheered me as nothing has in many years."

Not prone to cry easily, Will wept over that note.

She was one of the GREAT UNTHANKED PEOPLE from Will's past. You know them. We all do. The teacher who made a difference. That coach we'll never forget. The music instructor or Sunday school worker who helped us to believe in ourselves. That scout leader who cared.


We all remember people who shaped our lives in various ways. People whose influence changed us. Will Stidger found a way to show his appreciation -- he wrote them letters.

Who are some of the unthanked people from your past? It may not be too late to say, "Thanks."

57 Cents That Made History

A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it 'was too crowded'. "I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason nd , taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday School class. The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.

Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note scribble in childish handwriting which read, "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday school."

For two years she had saved for this offering of love. When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do.

Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there!

A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered it for a 57 cent payment.

Church members made large subscriptions. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00 - a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century).

Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.

When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300, and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of Sunday scholars, so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside at Sunday school time.

In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, "Acres of Diamonds."

Examine Yourself, Watch Yourself

One day all the employees reached the office and they saw a big advice on the door on which it was written:
"Yesterday the person who has been hindering your growth in this company passed away. We invite you to join the funeral in the room that has been prepared in the gym".

In the beginning, they all got sad for the death of one of their colleagues, but after a while they started getting curious to know who was that man who hindered the growth of his colleagues and the company itself.

The excitement in the gym was such that security agents were ordered to control the crowd within the room.

The more people reached the coffin, the more the excitement heated up. Everyone thought: "Who is this guy who was hindering my progress? Well,
at least he died!".

One by one the thrilled employees got closer to the coffin, and when they looked inside it they suddenly became speechless. They stood nearby the coffin, shocked and in silence, as if someone had touched the deepest part of their soul.

There was a mirror inside the coffin: everyone who looked inside it could see himself.

There was also a sign next to the mirror that said:
"There is only one person who is capable to set limits to your growth: it is YOU."

You are the only person who can revolutionize your life.

You are the only person who can influence your happiness, your realization and your success.
You are the only person who can help yourself.
Your life does not change when your boss changes, when your friends change, when your parents change, when your partner changes, when your company changes.

Your life changes when YOU change, when you go beyond your limiting beliefs, when you realize that you are the only one responsible for your life.

"The most important relationship you can have, is the one you have with yourself"

Examine yourself, watch yourself. Don't be afraid of difficulties, impossibilities and losses: be a winner, build yourself and your reality.

Angels

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone.

The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck.

The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.

That night, when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every night.

As the weeks went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.)

It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car--or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full--full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.

I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy of that day. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.

What an opportunity Omega is giving us to be 'angels' for many who are struggling. ...May we never forget our blessing about to be and that it is NOT meant just for us.