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.
\\|//
@ @
||----------------------------ooOo-(_)-oOoo------------------||
(TOP) (Back
to Stories Index)
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)