These are really very powerful. Implement whatever you can.
1. Take a 10-30 minute walk every day. And while you walk, smile. It is the ultimate anti-depressant.
2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Buy a clock if you have to.
3. Buy a PVR tape your late night shows and get more sleep.
4. When you wake up in the morning complete the following statement, "My purpose is to__________ _ today."
5. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm, and Empathy.
6. Play more games and read more books than you did in 2007.
7. Make time to practice meditation, yoga, tai chi, and prayer. They provide us with daily fuel for our busy lives.
8. Spend more time with people over the age of 70 and under the age of 6.
9. Dream more while you are awake.
10. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
11. Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild Alaskan salmon, broccoli, almonds & walnuts.
12. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
13. Clear your clutter from your house, your car, your desk and let new and flowing energy into your life.
14. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
15. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn.
Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.
16. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card.
17. Smile and laugh more. It will keep the energy vampires away.
18. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
20. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
21. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
22. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
23. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
24. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, and wear the fancy lingerie (not you guys.) Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: "In five years, will this matter?"
27. Forgive everyone for everything.
28. What other people think of you is none of your business.
29. Time heals almost everything. Give time, time.
30. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
31. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.
32. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
33. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
34. The best is yet to come.
35. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
36. Do the right thing!
37. Call your family often.
38. Each night before you go to bed complete the following statements: "I am thankful for __________." Today I accomplished _________.
39. Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.
40. Enjoy the ride. Remember that this is not Disney World and you certainly don't want a fast pass. You only have one ride through life so make the most of it and enjoy the ride.
May your troubles be less,
May your blessings be more,
May nothing but happiness come through your door
Friday, August 28, 2009
LIVE LOVE LAUGH
I LOVE this sentiment!
I wish I didn't have such a hard time doing it though!
I worry too much about everything and live under a stress cloud...
have been for too many years to count.
It makes you so numb you just can't feel the joy.
You sort of just float through life...going through the motions as it were.
A Christmas Story
Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them anyway... he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.
Bobby had been in his back yard for about an hour already, and try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless. Even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend."
Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.
What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister who ran the household in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn't fair; here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to. Bobby walked from shop to shop looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful... and so out of reach.
It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his new-found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw.
His excitement quickly turned cold when the salesperson told him that he couldn't buy anything with only a dime.
He spotted a flower shop and went inside and waited in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift.
The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten-cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."
As Bobby waited, he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers. The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality.
All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid. Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes lay twelve long stem red roses with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.
"That will be ten cents young man," the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime.
Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. "Could this be true?" No one else would give him a thing for his dime!
Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"
This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true.
Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son, and may God bless you."
As he returned inside, the shop keeper's wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there, and where are the roses you were fixing?" she asked.
Staring out the window and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then, just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself many years ago. I too was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift with. A bearded man whom I didn't know stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was and put together a dozen of my very best roses."
The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.
Our past is neither an accident nor a mistake.
May this story instill the spirit of Christmas in you enough to pass this act along
I BELIEVE
A birth certificate shows that we were born.
A death certificate shows that we died.
Pictures show that we lived!
Have a seat. Relax, and read this slowly.
I BELIEVE
I believe -
That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other.
And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.
I believe -
That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
I believe -
That no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you
every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I believe -
That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance.
Same goes for true love.
I believe -
That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I believe -
That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I believe -
That you should always leave loved ones with loving words.
It may be the last time you see them.
I believe -
That you can keep going long after you think you can't.
I believe -
That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
I believe -
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I believe -
That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when
it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
I believe -
That money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I believe -
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're
down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I believe -
That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry,
but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.
I believe -
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences
you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do
with how many birthdays you've celebrated.
I believe -
That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others.
Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I believe -
That no matter how bad your heart is broken,
the world doesn't stop for your grief.
I believe -
That our background and circumstances may have influenced
who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I believe -
Two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I believe -
That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.
I believe -
That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend
cries out to you - you will find the strength to help.
I believe -
That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
I believe -
That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
I believe -
That you should send this to all of the people that you believe in.
I just did. The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything;
they just make the best of everything they have.
Every action you take is a seed you sow, and every seed
You sow is a harvest you'll reap. AB
A death certificate shows that we died.
Pictures show that we lived!
Have a seat. Relax, and read this slowly.
I BELIEVE
I believe -
That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other.
And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.
I believe -
That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
I believe -
That no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you
every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I believe -
That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance.
Same goes for true love.
I believe -
That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I believe -
That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I believe -
That you should always leave loved ones with loving words.
It may be the last time you see them.
I believe -
That you can keep going long after you think you can't.
I believe -
That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
I believe -
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I believe -
That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when
it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
I believe -
That money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I believe -
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're
down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I believe -
That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry,
but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.
I believe -
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences
you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do
with how many birthdays you've celebrated.
I believe -
That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others.
Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I believe -
That no matter how bad your heart is broken,
the world doesn't stop for your grief.
I believe -
That our background and circumstances may have influenced
who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I believe -
Two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I believe -
That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.
I believe -
That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend
cries out to you - you will find the strength to help.
I believe -
That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
I believe -
That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
I believe -
That you should send this to all of the people that you believe in.
I just did. The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything;
they just make the best of everything they have.
Every action you take is a seed you sow, and every seed
You sow is a harvest you'll reap. AB
EMAIL: Folded Napkin
>>
>>The Folded Napkin ..
>>
>>A Truckers Story (If this doesn't light your fire . Your wood is wet!!!)
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His
>>placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy.
>>But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I
>>wanted
>>one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie.
>>
>>He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and
>>thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my
>>trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables
>>as
>>long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.
>>
>>The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy
>>college
>>kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their
>>silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck
>>stop
>>germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who
>>think
>>every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people
>>would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the
>>first
>>few weeks.
>>
>>I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff
>>wrapped
>>around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had
>>adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.
>>
>>After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of
>>him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh
>>and
>>eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt
>>and
>>pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill
>>was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was
>>persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were
>>finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one
>>foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then
>>he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses
>>onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish
>>of his rag.
>>
>>If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added
>>concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had
>>to
>>love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.
>>
>>Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was
>>disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social
>>Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their
>>social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they
>>had
>>fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was
>>probably the difference between them being able to live together and
>>Stevie
>>being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place
>>that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie
>>missed work.
>>
>>He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something
>>put
>>in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome
>>often
>>have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there
>>was
>>a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back
>>at
>>work in a few months.
>>
>>A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word
>>came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine.
>>
>>Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in
>>the
>>aisle when she heard the good news.
>>
>>Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of
>>this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his
>>table.
>>
>>Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering
>>look.
>>
>>He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.
>>
>>"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."
>>
>>"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was
>>the
>>surgery about?"
>>
>>Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his
>>booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to
>>be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to
>>handle
>>all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is."
>>Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the
>>rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to
>>replace
>>Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their
>>own tables that day until we decided what to do.
>>
>>After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple
>>of
>>paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.
>>
>>"What's up?" I asked.
>>
>>"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting
>>cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting
>>there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and
>>tucked under a coffee cup."
>>
>>She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I
>>opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something
>>For
>>Stevie".
>>
>>"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him
>>about
>>Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked
>>at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper
>>napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50
>>bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny
>>eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers."
>>
>>That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is
>>supposed to be back to work.
>>
>>His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor
>>said
>>he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He
>>called
>>10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that
>>we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have
>>his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and
>>invited them both to celebrate his day back.
>>
>>Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed
>>through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing
>>cart were waiting.
>>
>>"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother
>>by
>>their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back,
>>breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a large
>>corner booth at the rear of the room.
>>
>>I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched
>>through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after
>>booth
>>of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of
>>the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and
>>dinner
>>plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.
>>"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I
>>tried to sound stern.
>>
>>Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the
>>napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he
>>picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.
>>
>>Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath
>>the
>>tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his
>>mother. "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all
>>from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems.
>>"Happy
>>Thanksgiving,".
>>
>>Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and
>>shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.
>>
>>But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands
>>and
>>hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy
>>clearing all the cups and dishes from the table.
>>
>>Best worker I ever hired.
>>
>>Plant a seed and watch it grow.
>>
>>At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it
>>fulfilling the need!
>>
>>If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.
>>
>>Well.. Don't just sit there! Send this story on! Keep it going, this is
>>a
>>good one!
>>
>>
>>As Water Reflects Face, So To A Man's Actions Reflect His Heart
>>The Folded Napkin ..
>>
>>A Truckers Story (If this doesn't light your fire . Your wood is wet!!!)
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His
>>placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy.
>>But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I
>>wanted
>>one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie.
>>
>>He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and
>>thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my
>>trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables
>>as
>>long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.
>>
>>The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy
>>college
>>kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their
>>silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck
>>stop
>>germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who
>>think
>>every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people
>>would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the
>>first
>>few weeks.
>>
>>I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff
>>wrapped
>>around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had
>>adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.
>>
>>After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of
>>him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh
>>and
>>eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt
>>and
>>pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill
>>was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was
>>persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were
>>finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one
>>foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then
>>he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses
>>onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish
>>of his rag.
>>
>>If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added
>>concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had
>>to
>>love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.
>>
>>Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was
>>disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social
>>Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their
>>social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they
>>had
>>fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was
>>probably the difference between them being able to live together and
>>Stevie
>>being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place
>>that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie
>>missed work.
>>
>>He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something
>>put
>>in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome
>>often
>>have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there
>>was
>>a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back
>>at
>>work in a few months.
>>
>>A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word
>>came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine.
>>
>>Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in
>>the
>>aisle when she heard the good news.
>>
>>Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of
>>this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his
>>table.
>>
>>Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering
>>look.
>>
>>He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.
>>
>>"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."
>>
>>"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was
>>the
>>surgery about?"
>>
>>Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his
>>booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to
>>be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to
>>handle
>>all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is."
>>Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the
>>rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to
>>replace
>>Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their
>>own tables that day until we decided what to do.
>>
>>After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple
>>of
>>paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.
>>
>>"What's up?" I asked.
>>
>>"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting
>>cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting
>>there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and
>>tucked under a coffee cup."
>>
>>She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I
>>opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something
>>For
>>Stevie".
>>
>>"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him
>>about
>>Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked
>>at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper
>>napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50
>>bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny
>>eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers."
>>
>>That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is
>>supposed to be back to work.
>>
>>His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor
>>said
>>he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He
>>called
>>10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that
>>we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have
>>his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and
>>invited them both to celebrate his day back.
>>
>>Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed
>>through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing
>>cart were waiting.
>>
>>"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother
>>by
>>their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back,
>>breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a large
>>corner booth at the rear of the room.
>>
>>I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched
>>through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after
>>booth
>>of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of
>>the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and
>>dinner
>>plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.
>>"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I
>>tried to sound stern.
>>
>>Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the
>>napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he
>>picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.
>>
>>Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath
>>the
>>tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his
>>mother. "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all
>>from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems.
>>"Happy
>>Thanksgiving,".
>>
>>Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and
>>shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.
>>
>>But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands
>>and
>>hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy
>>clearing all the cups and dishes from the table.
>>
>>Best worker I ever hired.
>>
>>Plant a seed and watch it grow.
>>
>>At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it
>>fulfilling the need!
>>
>>If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.
>>
>>Well.. Don't just sit there! Send this story on! Keep it going, this is
>>a
>>good one!
>>
>>
>>As Water Reflects Face, So To A Man's Actions Reflect His Heart
Hhhmmm....
It has taken me a long time NOT to care what everyone thinks of me.
Now, I have always been who I am,
I just didn't always speak my mind freely to everyone.
But, life is too short to waste time pussy-footing around the truth.
It is what it is.
We are who we are and lets face it...
very few of us are ever going to make the huge effort it would take to CHANGE!
So, BE who YOU are!
Unless of course it's an axe murderer...
that's a whole other ball of wax!!!
Interesting Email: #2
> You Took My Parking Space at Church
> This should wake us up.
>
> One day, a man went to visit a church. He got there early, parked
> his car
> and got out. Another car pulled up near him. The driver got out and
> said,
> 'I always park there! You took my place!'
>
> The visitor went inside for Sunday School, found an empty seat and sat
> down. A young lady from the church approached him and stated,
> 'That's my
> seat! You took my place!'
>
> The visitor was somewhat distressed by this rude welcome, but said
> nothing.
>
> After Sunday School, the visitor went into the sanctuary and sat down.
>
> Another member walked up to him and said, 'That's where I always
> sit! You
> took my place!'
>
> The visitor was even more troubled by this treatment, but still He
> said
> nothing.
>
> Later as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell among
> them, the
> visitor stood up, and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars
> became visible on his hands and on his sandaled feet. Someone from the
> congregation noticed him and called out, 'What happened to you?'
>
> The visitor replied, as his hat became a crown of thorns, and a
> tear fell
> from his eye, 'I took your place.'
>
> When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do.
> There is
> nothing attached.
> This should wake us up.
>
> One day, a man went to visit a church. He got there early, parked
> his car
> and got out. Another car pulled up near him. The driver got out and
> said,
> 'I always park there! You took my place!'
>
> The visitor went inside for Sunday School, found an empty seat and sat
> down. A young lady from the church approached him and stated,
> 'That's my
> seat! You took my place!'
>
> The visitor was somewhat distressed by this rude welcome, but said
> nothing.
>
> After Sunday School, the visitor went into the sanctuary and sat down.
>
> Another member walked up to him and said, 'That's where I always
> sit! You
> took my place!'
>
> The visitor was even more troubled by this treatment, but still He
> said
> nothing.
>
> Later as the congregation was praying for Christ to dwell among
> them, the
> visitor stood up, and his appearance began to change. Horrible scars
> became visible on his hands and on his sandaled feet. Someone from the
> congregation noticed him and called out, 'What happened to you?'
>
> The visitor replied, as his hat became a crown of thorns, and a
> tear fell
> from his eye, 'I took your place.'
>
> When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do.
> There is
> nothing attached.
Cherries
The cherry is one of my favourite fruits!
SWEET, JUICY, what's not to like?
I LOVE cherries!
Interesting Email: #1
MY SON
This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your day!
The ending will surprise you
Take my Son
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.
He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings Many influential people gathered, ex cited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'
There was silence.
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.'
But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'
Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandt's. Get on with the real bids!'
But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting.' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
'We have $10, who will bid $20?'
'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.'
'$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?'
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!'
A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!'
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'
'What about the paintings?'
'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.
The man who took the son gets everything!'
God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The son, the son, who'll take the son?'
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE
This is great, take a moment to read it, it will make your day!
The ending will surprise you
Take my Son
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.
He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings Many influential people gathered, ex cited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'
There was silence.
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.'
But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'
Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandt's. Get on with the real bids!'
But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting.' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
'We have $10, who will bid $20?'
'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.'
'$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?'
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!'
A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!'
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'
'What about the paintings?'
'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.
The man who took the son gets everything!'
God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The son, the son, who'll take the son?'
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE
Ladybugs!
I just love ladybugs!
I have since I was a small child.
We used to walk through the field next to my nanny's house.
We'd walk through the tall grass and right in the middle of the field
was a huge rock we would climb up on and sit in the sun.
We'd sit there for ages just hangin' out and
watching the ladybugs take a long trek across the huge rock.
Why I don't know because they DO fly!
Stress
Anybody ever feel like this?
I sure do.
It certainly puts a huge damper on your ability to
just cherish the things in life that ARE important!!
FAVE song of all time!
Stairway to Heaven
(As Recorded by Tiny Tim & Brave Combo)
(Page-Plant)
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
And you know sometimes words have two meanings
In the tree by the brook there's a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a feeling I get when I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the forest will echo with laughter
And it makes me wonder
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow
Don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen
Yes there are two paths you can go by
but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on
Your head is humming and it won't go because you don't know
The piper's calling you to join him
Dear lady can't you hear the wind blow and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our souls
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
And she's buying a stairway to heaven, uh uh uh.
(As Recorded by Tiny Tim & Brave Combo)
(Page-Plant)
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
And you know sometimes words have two meanings
In the tree by the brook there's a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a feeling I get when I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the forest will echo with laughter
And it makes me wonder
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow
Don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen
Yes there are two paths you can go by
but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on
Your head is humming and it won't go because you don't know
The piper's calling you to join him
Dear lady can't you hear the wind blow and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our souls
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
And she's buying a stairway to heaven, uh uh uh.
FAVE author of ALL time!
This has to be:
JRR Tolkien
although I know all my friends
would likely tell you:
Stephen King
The truth is SK is my fave LIVING author...
and JRR Tolkien probably would be
if he were still alive.
However,
he created a deep and passionate world
full of characters I love and admire.
I want to live in a hobbit hole!!
JRR Tolkien
although I know all my friends
would likely tell you:
Stephen King
The truth is SK is my fave LIVING author...
and JRR Tolkien probably would be
if he were still alive.
However,
he created a deep and passionate world
full of characters I love and admire.
I want to live in a hobbit hole!!
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