... Life Manifestations ...
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look at what I found"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn-not enough rain, or to little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and
declared with overacted surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it midair without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
Love is...
Love is
being happy for the other person
when they are happy
being sad for the other person when they are sad
being together in good times
and being together in bad times
Love is the source of strength
Love is
being honest with yourself at all times
being honest with the other person at all times
telling, listening, respecting the truth
and never pretending
Love is the source of reality
Love is
an understanding that is so complete that
you feel as if you are a part of the other person
accepting the other person just the way they are
and not trying to change them to be something else
Love is the source of unity
Love is
the freedom to pursue your own desires
while sharing your experiences with the other person
the growth of one individual alongside of
and together with the growth of another individual
Love is the source of success
Love is
the excitement of planning things together
the excitement of doing things together
Love is the source of the future
Love is
the fury of the storm
the calm of the rainbow
Love is the source of passion
Love is
giving and taking in a daily situation
being patient with each other's needs and desires
Love is the source of sharing
Love is
knowing that the other person
will always be with you regardless of what happens
missing the other person when they are away
but remaining near in heart at all times
Love is the source of security
Love is the
source of life
- Susan Polis Schutz
What it means to be Adopted
Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a
picture of a family.
One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than
the other family members. One child suggested that he was
adopted and a little girl named Jocelynn Jay said,
"I know
all about adoptions because I was adopted."
"What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child.
"It means," said Jocelynn, "that you grew in your mommy's
heart instead of her tummy."
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The story behind the picture of the praying hands
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived
a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food
on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a
goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade
and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two the elder children,
Albrecht and Albert, had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their
talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be
financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the
Academy.
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two
boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would
go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his
brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won
the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the
other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or,
if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer
won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.
Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four
years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an
immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils
were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he
graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his
commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held
a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant
homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and
laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the
table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice
that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words
were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn.
Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care
of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where
Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head
from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no
...no ...no."
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced
down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands
close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to
Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the
mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed
at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly
in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast,
much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a
brush. No, brother ...for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of
masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors,
charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great
museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people,
are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely
being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in
your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed,
Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms
together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful
drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened
their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love
"The Praying Hands."
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second
look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no
one - - ever makes it alone!
--Jeanette Deacon--
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Please take me
I was driving
to the grocery store just thinking of everything on my list to do today.
Taking the kids to soccer practice, cleaning the house, getting groceries,
getting the oil changed in the car, the list went on and on. I was feeling
overwhelmed and was already tired before I had even gotten started."
On my way to
the store I saw something horrible happen!!
A train had run into a car
that was crossing the tracks.
I thought "Oh no!, This is horrible, there
is no way the driver of that car could have lived!!"
I was the closest
car to the tracks so I put my car in park and got out.
I ran over to the
car and looked in and could not believe what I was seeing.
Tears came to
my eyes and I just couldn't take it.
Inside the car was a woman driving
that was obviously dead.
In the backseat
was a baby in it's car seat bleeding everywhere,
and next to the baby was
a little girl who I guessed to be about 4 years old and she was bleeding
also.
Just then the little girl spoke.
She said, "Is
my mommy and baby sister okay?"
I just looked
at her and said "Honey I don't know. There is a doctor on his way right
now."
Just then the
little girl started crying saying,
"Don't take my mommy and my baby sister
- Take me with you too! Please!"
She was pleading
at who knows what to take her - but take her where?
I asked the little
girl who she was talking to and she said, "Don't you see?"
That Angel
is taking my mommy and my baby sister! I want to go with them too!
My mommy
is waving goodbye to me and she is holding my baby sister and she is smiling!"
The little
girl started to cry because she did not want to stay,
she wanted to go
with her mommy and her baby sister.
I felt so sorry
for her.
I didn't believe in God and I thought to myself,
"Where did an
Angel come from? What kind of God would take a mommy and a baby but not
the little sister?"
At that moment
I saw the little girl start to smile so big as she held her arms out to
something, someone to pick her up.
I thought to myself that she must be
delirious and maybe she is hurt worse that I thought.
Just then the little
girl closed her eyes and slumped over in her seat. She was dead!
I couldn't be
sad even though this was a 4 year old little girl that had just died.
You
wouldn't be sad either if you could see that beautiful smile on her face!
I guess her mommy and baby sister came back to get her.
That was also
the day that God came to get me -
as that was the day that I became a believer
and turned my life over to the Living God."
I may never see tomorrow
I may never see tomorrow
There's no written guarantee
And things that happened yesterday
Belong to history.
I cannot predict the future
I cannot change the past
I have just the present moment
I must treat it as my last.
I must use the moment wisely
For it soon will pass away
And be lost to me forever
As part of yesterday.
I must excercise compassion
Help the fallen to their feet
Be a friend unto the friendless
Make an emply life complete.
The unkind things I do today
May never be undone.
Any friendships that I fail to win
May nevermore be won.
I may not have another chance
On bended knee to pray,
And I thank God with humble heart
For giving me this day.
~Author unknown!
Lunch in the park
There once was a little boy who
wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he
packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six pack of root beer and he started
his journey.
When he had gone about three
blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park just staring at
some pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase.
He was about to take a drink
from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so
he offered her a Twinkie. She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.
Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered
her a root beer.
Once again she smiled at him.
The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling,
but they never said a word.
As it grew dark, the boy realized
how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than
a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old woman and gave her a
hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever.
When the boy opened the door
to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look
of joy on his face.
She asked him, "What did you
do today that made you so happy?" He replied, "I had lunch with God."
But before his mother could
respond, he added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've
ever seen!"
Meanwhile, the old woman, also
radiant with joy, returned to her home.
Her son was stunned by the look
of peace on her face and he asked, "Mother, what did you do today that
made you so happy?" She replied,
"I ate Twinkies in the park with God."
But before her son responded,
she added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."
The most beautiful heart
One day a young man was
standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful
heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired
his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes,
they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen.
The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful
heart.
Suddenly, an old man appeared
at the front of the crowd and said,
"Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful
as mine."
The crowd and the young
man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of
scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put
in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges.
In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were
missing.
The people stared -- how
can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought? The young man looked
at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed.
"You must be joking,"
he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a
mess of scars and tears."
"Yes," said the old man,
"yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every
scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece
of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their
heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces
aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind
me of the love we shared.
Sometimes I have given
pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of
his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a
chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me
of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return
and fill the space I have waiting.
So now do you see what true beauty is?"
The young man stood silently
with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached
into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He
offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering,
placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart
and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart.
It fit, but not perfectly,
as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not
perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's
heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.
My new best friend
Today I
met a great new friend
Who knew
me right away
It was
funny how she understood
All I
had to say
She listened
to my problems
She listened
to my dreams
We talked
about love and life
She'd
been there, too, it seems
I never
once felt judged by here
She knew
just how I felt
She seemed
to just accept me
And all
the problems I'd been dealt
She didn't
interrupt me
Or need
to have her say
She just
listened very patiently
And didn't
go away
I wanted
her to understand
How much
this meant to me
But as
I went to hug her
Something
startled me
I put my
arms in front of me
And went
to pull her nearer
And realized
that my new best friend
Was nothing
but a mirror
Author unknown
First Letter to the Corinthians
Corinthians, Chapter 13
Love is patient,
love is kind.
It is not jealous,
it is not pompous,
it is not inflated,
it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered,
it does not brood over injury,
it does not rejoice over wrongdoing
but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.