Think & Ponder 5
 

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Stories and Inspirational Messages:


One Moment Please

"So, how do you develop a relationship?" This question was asked of me when I was doing a Relationship Service seminar for the YMCA. I have to admit that the question caught me off guard for a brief second. We had been talking "theory" all day and this woman wanted some concrete methods for developing client or, for that matter, any relationship.

After pausing for a minute to collect my thoughts, I stated that the only thing I could do was tell her the truth from my experience. Somewhat shyly, I began to tell her the story of how my wife and I saved our relationship. My mind flashed back to a time when Karen and I were at a State Fair and I won two red velvet hearts as a consolation prize in one of the midway games. I broke apart the two hearts and gave one to Karen and kept one for myself.

We had been married for 10 years and were going through a bit of a "flat spot" in our relationship. We still loved each other, but something was missing.

Karen did not want the "flatness" to continue so one day she came up with a plan. She took one of the hearts and hid it in my towel while I was taking a shower. When I went to grab my towel, the red heart spilled out. As I bent down to pick it up, I was overcome with a rush of emotion that made me flash back to the time when I won the red hearts and the love we felt for each other at that moment.

I then hid the heart in her sock drawer. She hid it in my underwear drawer. I hid it in the refrigerator. She wrapped it in plastic wrap and hid it in the peanut butter. Hiding the heart became as much fun as finding it. Each time we hid or found it was a moment to be treasured, like the first moment we fell in love or the first moment we kissed or the first moment we looked into our child's eyes. Each is a cherished and precious moment.

How do you develop a relationship? One moment at a time!

By Barry Spilchuk from A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Barry Spilchuk        (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Love: The One Creative Force

A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students wrote, "He hasn't got a chance." Twenty-five years later another sociology professor came across the earlier study. He had his students follow up on the project to see what had happened to these boys. With the exception of 20 boys who had moved away or died, the students learned that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than ordinary success as lawyers, doctors and businessmen.

The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further. Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the reply came with feeling, "There was a teacher."

The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of the slums into successful achievement.

The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. "It's really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys."

By Eric Butterworth from Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1993 by Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen     (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


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’m 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’m 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’m going to have to go to summer school. What about that, Sir? I’m slower than most kids. I’m 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’m 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 from A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


A Life Worth Saving

A man risked his life by swimming through the treacherous riptide to save a youngster being swept out to sea. After the child recovered from the harrowing experience, he said to the man, "Thank you for saving my life."

The man looked into the boy's eyes and said, "That's okay, kid. Just make sure your life was worth saving."

By Author Unknown from More Sower's Seeds by Brian Cavanaugh from A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1995 by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Great Value in Disaster

Thomas Edison's laboratory was virtually destroyed by fire in December, 1914. Although the damage exceeded $2 million, the buildings were only insured for $238,000 because they were made of concrete and thought to be fireproof. Much of Edison's life's work went up in spectacular flames that December night.

At the height of the fire, Edison's 24-year old son, Charles, frantically searched for his father among the smoke and debris. He finally found him, calmly watching the scene, his face glowing in the reflection, his white hair blowing in the wind.

"My heart ached for him," said Charles. "He was 67 - no longer a young man - and everything was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, "Charles, where's your mother?" When I told him I didn't know, he said, "Find her. Bring her here. She will never see anything like this as long as she lives."

The next morning, Edison looked at the ruins and said, "There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew."

Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver his first phonograph.

By The Sower's Seeds from A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen      (TOP)   (Back to Stories Index)


Don't Punish Every Mistake

In one of my assignments as a young infantry officer, I was sent to the 48th Infantry near Frankfurt, Germany. In those days our prize weapon was a huge 280-mm atomic cannon. Guarded by infantry platoons, these guns were hauled around the forests on trucks to keep the Soviets from guessing their location.

One day Captain Tom Miller assigned my platoon to guard a 280. I alerted my men, loaded my .45 caliber pistol and jumped into my jeep. I had not gone far when I realized that my .45 was gone.

I was petrified. In the army, losing a weapon is serious business. I had no choice but to radio Captain Miller and tell him. "You what?" he said in disbelief. He paused a few seconds, then added, "All right, continue the mission."

When I returned, uneasily contemplating my fate, Miller called me over. "I've got something for you," he said, handing me the pistol. "Some kids in the village found it where it fell out of your holster."

"Kids found it?" I felt a cold chill.

"Yeah," he said. "Luckily they only got off one round before we heard the shot and took the gun away." The disastrous possibilities left me limp. "For God's sake, son, don't let that happen again."

He drove off. I checked the magazine and found it was full. The gun had not been fired. Later I learned that I had dropped it in my tent before I ever got started. Miller had fabricated the scene about the kids to give me a good scare.

Today the army might hold an investigation, call in lawyers and likely enter a bad mark on my record. Miller gave me the chance to learn from my mistake. His example of intelligent leadership was not lost on me. Nobody ever got to the top without slipping up. When someone stumbles, I don't believe in stomping on him. My philosophy is "Pick 'em up, dust 'em off and get 'em moving again."

By Colin Powell from A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Barry Spilchuk      (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


The Gossiper

A woman repeated a bit of gossip about a neighbor. Within a few days the whole community knew the story.  The person it concerned was deeply hurt and offended.  Later the woman responsible for spreading the rumor learned that it was completely untrue.  She was very sorry and went to a wise old sage to find out what she could do to repair the damage.

"Go to the marketplace," he said, "and purchase a chicken, and have it killed.  Then on your way home, pluck its feathers and drop them one by one along the road." Although surprised by this advice, the woman did what she was told.

The next day the wise man said, "Now go and collect all those feathers you dropped yesterday and bring them back to me."

The woman followed the same road, but to her dismay, the wind had blown the feathers all away.  After searching for hours, she returned with only three in her hand.  "You see," said the old sage, "it's easy to drop them, but it's impossible to get them back.  So it is with gossip.  It doesn't take much to spread a rumor, but once you do, you can never completely undo the wrong."

Author Unknown Submitted by Helen Hazinski from Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul Copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and Kimberly Kirberger        (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Laugh!

Many years ago, Norman Cousins was diagnosed as "terminally ill." He was given six months to live. His chance for recovery was one in 500.

He could see the worry, depression and anger in his life contributed to, and perhaps helped cause, his disease. He wondered, "If illness can be caused by negativity, can wellness be created by positivity?"

He decided to make an experiment of himself. Laughter was one of the most positive activities he knew. He rented all the funny movies he could find - Keaton, Chaplin, Fields, the Marx Brothers. (This was before VCRs, so he had to rent the actual films.) He read funny stories. He asked his friends to call him whenever they said, heard or did something funny.

His pain was so great he could not sleep. Laughing for 10 solid minutes, he found, relieved the pain for several hours so he could sleep.

He fully recovered from his illness and lived another 20 happy, healthy and productive years. (His journey is detailed in his book, Anatomy of an Illness.) He credits visualization, the love of his family and friends, and laughter for his recovery.

Some people think laughter is a waste of time. It is a luxury, they say, a frivolity, something to indulge in only every so often.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Laughter is essential to our equilibrium, to our well-being, to our aliveness. If we're not well, laughter helps us get well; if we are well, laughter helps us stay that way.

Since Cousins' ground-breaking subjective work, scientific studies have shown that laughter has a curative effect on the body, the mind and the emotions.

So, if you like laughter, consider it sound medical advice to indulge in it as often as you can. If you don't like laughter, then take your medicine - laugh anyway.

Use whatever makes you laugh - movies, sitcoms, Monty Python, records, books, New Yorker cartoons, jokes, friends.

Give yourself permission to laugh - long and loud and out loud - whenever anything strikes you as funny. The people around you may think you're strange, but sooner or later they'll join in even if they don't know what you're laughing about.

Some diseases may be contagious, but none is as contagious as the cure. . . laughter.

By Peter McWilliams from Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Aubery & Nancy Mitchell, R.N.       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Winning

His mother told us the story the day after.

Kenneth was in junior high school and was excited and eager about participating in a day of Special Olympics events. While his parents watched expectantly from the stands, he ran and won the first race. He was proud of his ribbon and the cheers from the crowd.

He ran in the second race. Just at the finish line, when he again would have won, he stopped, then stepped off the track. His parents gently questioned him. "Why did you do that, Kenneth? If you had continued running, you would have won another race."

Kenneth innocently replied, "But, Mom, I already have a ribbon. Billy didn't have a ribbon yet."

By Clifford and Jerie Furness from A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Hanoch McCarty & Meladee McCarty         (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Friendship Forever (Fondue)

A good friend - what a treasure! I’ve had a good friend since the fourth grade (and that’s a considerable piece of time since we are now in our 50s). Joyce and I see each other only occasionally, but when we’re together it’s as if we just saw each other yesterday. Being with her is as beautiful as a colorful rainbow, a fresh box of crayons or a cool shower on a hot day -refreshing.

One of our favorite things to do is play in the kitchen together. Lots of problems can be solved while you’re chopping and slicing. Sharing a recipe is sharing your life. Are those tears from the onion or from that memory? Does it matter because soon there is only laughter. There is always a sense of understanding, of peace and comfort, of feeling completely at home. Most of all, there is acceptance, no matter what we’ve done. There is unconditional love. Always.

Friends sharing joy, sorrow, laughter and tears. Through the good - weddings, births and successes; the off-beat - TM, vegetarianism, yoga; the sad - loss of a mother, loss of a child, loss of our youth: we rage on together. We share beauty secrets - after all, we can’t let gravity and the years show too much. That’s how it is when you share time in the kitchen with a friend who will be a friend forever.

Friendship Forever Fondue - Makes 12 servings
Serve this with 1-1/2-inch pieces of toasted French bread, a variety of fresh vegetables cut in bite-size pieces or tortilla chips.
2(10-3/4-ounce) cans of Cheddar cheese soup       1 pound shredded Cheddar cheese
1 pound shredded Swiss cheese                              1 (7-ounce) can diced green chiles
1 (8-ounce) can tomatoes, crushed (or mild Mexican salsa)
1/3 cup white wine (optional)                                     1 small onion, minced

1. Combine all fondue ingredients in a heavy saucepan. Stir over low heat until cheeses are melted and all is smooth.
2. Pour into a bowl and place in the center of a platter surrounded by bread, vegetables or chips for dipping.

By Sharon Civalleri from Chicken Soup for the Soul Cookbook Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Diana von Welanetz Wentworth        (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Jessie's Glove

I do a lot of management training each year for the Circle K Corporation, a national chain of convenience stores. Among the topics we address in our seminars is the retention of quality employees - a real challenge to managers when you consider the pay scale in the service industry. During these discussions, I ask the participants, "What has caused you to stay long enough to become a manager?" Some time back a new manager took the question and slowly, with her voice almost breaking, said, "It was a $19 baseball glove."

Cynthia told the group that she originally took a Circle K clerk job as an interim position while she looked for something better. On her second or third day behind the counter, she received a phone call from her nine-year old son, Jessie. He needed a baseball glove for Little League. She explained that as a single mother, money was very tight, and her first check would have to go for paying bills. Perhaps she could buy his baseball glove with her second or third check.

When Cynthia arrived for work the next morning, Patricia, the store manager, asked her to come to the small room in back of the store that served as an office. Cynthia wondered if she had done something wrong or left some part of her job incomplete from the day before. She was concerned and confused.

Patricia handed her a box. "I overheard you talking to your son yesterday," she said, "and I know that it is hard to explain things to kids. This is a baseball glove for Jessie because he may not understand how important he is, even though you have to pay bills before you can buy gloves. You know we can't pay good people like you as much as we would like to; but we do care, and I want you to know you are important to us."

The thoughtfulness, empathy and love of this convenience store manager demonstrates vividly that people remember more how much an employer cares than how much the employer pays. An important lesson for the price of a Little League baseball glove.

By Rick Phillips from Chicken Soup for the Soul at Work Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Maida Rogerson, Martin Rutte & Tim Clauss       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Tommy's Essay

Soon Tommy's parents, who had recently separated, would arrive for a conference on his failing schoolwork and disruptive behavior. Neither parent knew that I had summoned the other.

Tommy, an only child, had always been happy, cooperative, and an excellent student. How could I convince his father and mother that his recent failing grades represented a brokenhearted child's reaction to his adored parents' separation and pending divorce?

Tommy's mother entered and took one of the chairs I had placed near my desk. Then the father arrived. They pointedly ignored each other.

As I gave a detailed account of Tommy's behavior and schoolwork, I prayed for the right words to bring these two together to help them see what they were doing to their son. But somehow the words wouldn't come. Perhaps if they saw one of his smudged, carelessly done papers.

I found a crumpled, tear-stained sheet stuffed in the back of his desk. Writing covered both sides, a single sentence scribbled over and over.

Silently I smoothed it out and gave it to Tommy's mother. She read it and then without a word handed it to her husband. He frowned. Then his face softened. He studied the scrawled words for what seemed an eternity.

At last he folded the paper carefully and reached for his wife's outstretched hand. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at him. My own eyes were brimming, but neither seemed to notice.

In his own way God had given me the words to reunite that family. He had guided me to the sheet of yellow copy paper covered with the anguished outpouring of a small boy's troubled heart.

"Dear Mother . . . Dear Daddy . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you."

By Jane Lindstorm from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Harness       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Obstacles

We who lived in the concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: The last of his freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.

By Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning from Chicken Soup for the Soul Copyright 1993 by Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen        (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Please Listen

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.

by Author Unknown from Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul Copyright 1997 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, and Kimberly Kirberger        (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


"A room with a view"
From: "Angels Online humor"

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked For hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.  Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young couples walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Then unexpectedly, a sinister thought entered his mind. Why should the other man alone experience all the pleasures of seeing everything while he himself never got to see anything? It didn't seem fair.

At first thought the man felt ashamed. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and he found himself unable to sleep.  He should be by that window - that thought, and only that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough.  He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running in. In less than five minutes the coughing and choking stopped along with that the sound of breathing. Now there was only silence—deathly silence.

The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take it away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside.  Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn To look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased room  mate had described such wonderful things outside this window.  The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.  She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

(author unknown)       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


NOT A WORD
Christian Humor from Angels Online

A member of a certain church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going.  After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him.  It was a chilly evening.  The pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire.  Guessing the reason for his pastor's visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a big chair near the fireplace and waited.

The pastor made himself comfortable but said nothing.  In the grave silence, he contemplated the play of the flames around the burning logs.  After some minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone.

Then he sat back in his chair, still silent.  The host watched all this in quiet fascination.  As the one lone ember's flame diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more.  Soon it was cold and "dead as a doornail."  Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.  Just before the pastor was ready to leave, he picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire.  Immediately it began to glow once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.

As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said,  "Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon.  I shall be back in church next Sunday."       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


The Three Trees
From: "Angels Online humor"

Once upon a mountaintop, three little trees stood and dreamed about what they wanted to become when they grew up. The first little tree looked up at the stars and said: "I want to hold treasure.  I want to be covered with gold and filled with precious stones. I'll be the most beautiful treasure chest in the world!"

The second little tree looked out at the small stream trickling by on it's way to the ocean.  "I want to be traveling mighty waters and carrying powerful kings. I'll be the strongest ship in the world!"

The third little tree looked down into the valley below where busy men and women worked in a busy town.  "I don't want to leave the mountaintop at all.  I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me, they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world."

Years passed.  The rain came, the sun shone, and the little trees grew tall.  One day three woodcutters climbed the mountain.  The first woodcutter looked at the first tree and said, "This tree is beautiful. It is perfect for me."  With a swoop of his shining ax, the first tree fell. "Now I shall be made into a beautiful chest, I shall hold wonderful treasure!"  The first tree said.

The second woodcutter looked at the second tree and said, "This tree is strong. It is perfect for me." With a swoop of his shining ax, the second tree fell. "Now I shall sail mighty waters!" thought the second tree. "I shall be a strong ship for mighty kings!"

The third tree felt her heart sink when the last woodcutter looked her way. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to heaven. But the woodcutter never even looked up. "Any kind of tree will do for me." He muttered.  With a swoop of his ax the third tree fell.

The first tree rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a carpenter's shop.  But the carpenter fashioned the tree into a feed box for animals. The once beautiful tree was not covered with gold, nor with treasure.  She was coated with sawdust and filled with hay for hungry farm animals.

The second tree smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made that day. Instead the once strong tree was hammered and sawed into a simple fishing boat.  She was too small and too weak to sail to an ocean, or even a river; instead she was taken to a little lake.

The third tree was confused when the woodcutter cut her into strong beams and left her in a lumberyard. "What happened?" The once tall tree wondered. "All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point to God..."

Many, many days and nights passed.  The three trees nearly forgot their dreams.  But one night, golden starlight poured over the first tree as a young woman placed her newborn baby in the feed box. "I wish I could make a cradle for him." Her husband whispered.  The mother squeezed his hand and smiled as the starlight shone on the smooth and the sturdy wood. "This manger is beautiful." She said. And suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the greatest treasure in the world.

One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded into the old fishing boat.  The traveler fell asleep as the second tree quietly sailed out into the lake. Soon a thundering and thrashing storm arose. The little tree shuddered. She knew she did not have the strength to carry so many passengers safely through with the wind and the rain. The tired man awakened.  He stood up, stretched out his hand, and said, "Peace."  The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And suddenly the second tree knew he was carrying the king of heaven and earth.

One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her beam was yanked from the forgotten woodpile.  She flinched as she was carried through an angry jeering crowd.  She shuddered when soldiers nailed a man's hands to her. She felt ugly and harsh and cruel.  But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth trembled with joy beneath her, the third tree knew that God's love had changed everything. It had made the third tree strong.  And every time people thought of the third tree, they would think of God.  That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.

So next time you feel down because you didn't get what you want, just sit tight and be happy because God is thinking of something better to give you.       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


SNAP JUDGEMENT
From: "Angels Online humor"

     While on a walk one day, I was surprised to see a man hoeing his garden while sitting in a chair.
     "What laziness!" I thought. But suddenly I saw, leaning against his chair, a pair of crutches. The man was at work despite his handicap.
     The lesson I learned about snap judgments that day has stayed with me for years now: the crosses people bear are seldom in plain sight.
~~Author unknown.~~      (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


One Sunday!
From: "Angels Online humor"

One Sunday morning during service, a 2,000 member congregation was surprised to see two men enter, both covered from head to toe in black and carrying sub-machine guns.

One of the men proclaimed, "Anyone willing to take a bullet for Christ remain where you are."

Immediately, the choir fled, the deacons fled, and most of the congregation fled.  Out of the 2,000 there only remained around 20.

The man who had spoken took off his hood, looked at the preacher and said, "Okay Pastor, I got rid of all the hypocrites.  Now you may begin your service.  Have a nice day!" And the two men turned and walked out.

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The Shoes:
From: "Angels Online humor"

New York City, on a cold day in December...

A little boy about 10 years old was standing before a shoe store on Broadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold.

A lady approached the boy and said, "My little fellow, why are you looking so earnestly in that window?"

"I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes," was the boys reply.

The lady took him by the hand and went into the store, and asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy.  She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel he quickly brought them to her.

She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down,  washed his little feet and dried them with a towel. By this time the clerk had returned with the socks.  Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes, and tying up the remaining pairs of socks, gave them to him.  She patted him on the head and said,

"No doubt, my little fellow, you feel more comfortable now?"

As she turned to go, the astonished lad caught her by the hand, and looking up in her face, with tears in his eyes, answered the question with these words...

"Are you God's Wife?         (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Dirt!:
From: "Angels Online humor"

A scientist was not impressed by the way God had created humans.  He was sure if he studied, he could create a man just like God had.

In his arrogance, he announces to God that he has figured it out and will be forming a man out of dirt, just like God had done with Adam.

The scientist gets a small shovel and large bucket and heads outside.

"Where are you going?"  God asks him.

"To get some dirt to make a man," the scientist replies.

To this, God says, "HEY!  Go get your OWN dirt!"      (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


Possessions:
From: "Angels Online humor"

A man plead with God that he really wanted to go to heaven but he wanted to take some possession of his from this life.

He went around and around arguing with God and begging Him to be able to take one thing, just one, into heaven with him.

So the day came when the man died and he did go to heaven.  He arrived with his one thing that God had agreed to let him in with--a briefcase full of gold bricks.

The man was grinning and walking down the street. He was glad to be in heaven and was feeling pleased that he had persuaded God.

Two of heaven's residents saw him whistling and walking down the street. One turns and says to the other, "What's with the guy walking around carrying a briefcase full of pavement??"       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED FROM NOAH'S ARK
(unknown)

1. Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.
2. Stay fit. When you're 600 years old, someone might ask you to do something REALLY big.
3. Don't listen to critics-do what has to be done.
4. Build on high ground.
5. For safety's sake, travel in pairs.
6. Two heads are better than one.
7. Speed isn't always an advantage. The cheetahs were on board, but so were the snails.
8. If you can't fight or flee-float!
9. Take care of your animals as if they were the last ones on earth.
10. Don't forget that we're all in the same boat.
11. When the doo-doo gets really deep, don't sit there and complain - shovel!!!
12. Stay below deck during the storm.
13. Remember that the ark was built by amateurs and the Titanic was built by professionals.
14. If you have to start over, have a friend by your side.
15. Remember that the woodpeckers INSIDE are often a bigger threat than the storm outside.
16. Don't miss the boat.
17. No matter how bleak it looks, there's always a rainbow on the other side.
18. "Stop what'ca doing, and do what God says!"       (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


A Goodie:
From: "Angels Online humor"

Last week I took my children to a restaurant.  My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace.  As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good.  God is great.  Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert.  And Liberty and justice for all!  Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country.  Kids today don't even know how to pray.  Asking God for ice-cream!  Why, I never!".

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong?  Is God mad at me?"

As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table.  He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."

"Really?" my son asked.

"Cross my heart."  Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream.  A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal.  My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."     (TOP)    (Back to Stories Index)


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