This is dedicated to all the best friends out there. There is a special close bond that gets created between best friends. To all of you out there, this is dedicated to you and your special friend. Have a Blessed Day!
Dear friend of mine from long ago, How very close we've grown, We understand each other's thoughts, As if they were our own. And even times when we must part, your warmth and love remain, And we are close in spirit, 'Til you return again.
Our very special friendship Grows sweeter with the years, You fill my life with happiness, And sorrow disappears. And even death cannot destroy This special bond we share, How beautiful will Heaven be, ...Because we both are there!
We all delight in the quiet times, in the peace and solitude, When alone we sit and meditate in a spiritual interlude. We think of all the diff'rent ways we have spent our life, to date, Then pray God gives us insight our goals to evaluate.
Without these precious moments to take stock of all we've done, Aimlessly we'd drift along - and battles couldn't be won. So when we're overwhelmed with life, while searching for our soul, Contemplation will serve us well - for it makes our spirit whole.
There is so much of goodness, In the hearts of humankind, That we, seldom, choose to look for So we seldom ever find; We are prone to see each other In the light of what we say And the deeds we find unpleasant To our statures or our ways.
But there is a depth of goodness - In each heart of humankind - That is gift of God's creation, For our peace of heart and mind, And it's, always, there to flourish - 'Neath the reckless words and deeds That we choose to find upsetting To our egos, pride or creed.
We need only be forgiving Of each other's words and whims To be finders of this goodness Every heart contains, within, For the Lord instilled a goodness, In each heart of humankind, That is meant to be a blessing To the seeing and the blind.
So you want a day off huh? Well, let’s just take a look at what you’re asking for ok?
There are 365 days per year, making that 52 weeks. You already have 2 days off per week, leaving just 261 days available for work. Since you already spend 16 hours each day away from work you’ve used up 170 days, leaving only 91 days left to work. You spend 30 minutes each day on coffee breaks which accounts for 23 days each year, now leaving only 68 days available. With a 1 hour lunch break each day, you used up another 46 days, leaving only 22 days available for work. You normally spend 2 days per year on sick leave, leaving you only 20 days per year available for work. We are off 5 holidays per year, so your available working time is down to 15 days.
Look, we generously give 14 days vacation per year which leaves only 1 day available for work and I’ll be damned if you’re gonna take that day off!
To the people all about us Who are part of one great throng, In a world of sin and sorrows And are void of joy and song; Does it seem life has no meaning And the road is rough and hard - Can't you see true riches gleaming Nor the final great reward? Would you change your situation As a great success prelude? Do not change your place or station Just your dismal attitude.
There are folds with riches plenty And unhappy as can be, There are others who are happy While they live in poverty. Would you know the joy of living As you go from day to day, Then you'll try the art of giving To the poor along life's way. If you have no goods to offer And your earthly store is low, You can visit those who suffer, And spread sunshine here below.
A good friend of mine recently posed this question to me, so I would like to, in turn, pose it to you. The question is this:
If you knew you were in a "dead end" relationship (you can define "dead end" anyway you like)...would you continue to stay in it out of love for that person, or leave?
Tess was eight years old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn't have the money for the doctor bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no one to loan them the money.
She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now." Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a small box from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the box, she slipped out the back door and made her way six blocks to the drug store.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was busy talking to another man and couldn't be bothered by an eight year old at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing ... she cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good ... Finally she took a quarter from her box and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages." he said, without waiting for a reply to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother." Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick ... and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?" "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you." the pharmacist said, softening a little.
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
"I don't know." Tess replied with eyes filled with tears. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."
"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.
"One dollar and eleven cents." Tess answered. "And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to."
"Well, what a coincidence." smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents - the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her hand and said , "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need."
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstong. a surgeon, specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.
"That surgery", her Mom whispered, "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost ... one dollar and eleven cents, plus the faith of a little child.
I came across this story and wanted to share it with you. I hope you like it as much as I did.
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Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw.
Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."
He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success; no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face. I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."
I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.
When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.
He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.
At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded, and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again.
And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4 a.m., and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.
Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"
Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But, oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!"
My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."
All this happened long ago -- and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.
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Friends are very special. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear and they share a word of praise. Show your friends how much you care. The only thing that will happen if you do pass it on is that someone might smile --because of you.
