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The Ragman
- Thread starter FineLinen
- Start date
The Window
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.
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 lovers 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.
Days and weeks passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body 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 for 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 roommate who 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."
Epilogue. . . .There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can't buy. "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the PRESENT".
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.
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 lovers 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.
Days and weeks passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body 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 for 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 roommate who 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."
Epilogue. . . .There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can't buy. "Today is a gift, that's why it is called the PRESENT".
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Just A Few Drops Of Water
It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain
in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk.
The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry
season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every
day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of
trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a
truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water.
But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...
We would lose everything.
It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and
witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the
kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my
six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking
with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I
could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great
effort...trying to be as still as possible.
Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again,
toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that
whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods,
run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept
out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not
to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need
his Mommy checking up on him).
He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very
careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three
tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into
the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not
try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy
on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front
of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get
away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the
buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down.
And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from
dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap
up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I
hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we
had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small
trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip
slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little
back. And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for
playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received
about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me
to help him.
It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he
stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His
little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said.
Just A Huge Coincidence?
As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the
kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job.
I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I
have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that
rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined
by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It
was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.
Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That
miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I
can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the
rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the actions of one
little boy saved another.
I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it.... To honor the
memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon....
but not before showing me the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.
(Author Unknown)
It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain
in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk.
The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry
season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every
day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of
trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a
truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water.
But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon...
We would lose everything.
It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and
witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the
kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my
six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking
with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I
could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great
effort...trying to be as still as possible.
Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again,
toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that
whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for an hour: walk carefully to the woods,
run back to the house. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept
out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not
to be seen...as he was obviously doing important work and didn't need
his Mommy checking up on him).
He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very
careful not to spill the water he held in them...maybe two or three
tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked close as he went into
the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not
try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. As I leaned in to spy
on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front
of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get
away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the
buck did not threaten him...he didn't even move as Billy knelt down.
And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from
dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap
up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I
hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we
had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small
trickle began to creep out. He knelt there, letting the drip, drip
slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little
back. And it came clear to me. The trouble he had gotten into for
playing with the hose the week before. The lecture he had received
about the importance of not wasting water. The reason he didn't ask me
to help him.
It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he
stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His
little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said.
Just A Huge Coincidence?
As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the
kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job.
I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I
have ever known working so hard to save another life. As the tears that
rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined
by other drops...and more drops...and more. I looked up at the sky. It
was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride.
Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That
miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I
can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the
rain that came that day saved our farm...just like the actions of one
little boy saved another.
I don't know if anyone will read this...but I had to send it.... To honor the
memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon....
but not before showing me the true face of God, in a little sunburned body.
(Author Unknown)
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BaBiDaNsTaR
MaGaZiNa, ISsUe 16!
Hey David-Haven't talked to you in awhile! Still posting stories, hehe, and they're still looking real good. 
!
!
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Hey Zina...Greetings again in our beloved Lord and Saviour. Have you ever heard of Sadhu Sundar Singh. His life has been a great blessing and encouragement to many through the years. In the following link we have a picture of the Sadhu and some of his words.
Sadhu Sundar Singh
http://www.esspirit.com/jesubhaktan/sadhu.htm
An Unexpected Visitor
Many a time Sundar Singh felt the loneliness of soul that comes to those whose lives are given to spiritual things. The lonely walk of spirit that is the part of those whose lives have been grasped by the Son of the Highest is part of the road to glory. A missionary once said of him "He must live very near to God to stand it", and that is true of him to continue. Never impatient, never too wearied to meet people who seek him, always gracious and ready night or day for the tasks that fall to him, he is a living copy of his Master. Sharing his Master's spirit, he also shares His loneliness.
Speaking of such a day as this Sundar Singh tells of a day when he was unusually tired, hungry and footsore. Utterly dejected, he was painfully trudging along when he was joined by a man who entered into conversation with him, and so led him out of himself that he forgot his misery in the charming companionship of his new friend. They went on together unto they came close to a village, when much to Sadhu's perturbation he found himself once more alone. He cannot explain it, but his own words are, "I now know that it was an angel of the Lord sent to strengthen and uphold me in my hour of weakness."
Thine, Oh Lord, Is The Greatness
Thine, oh Lord, is the greatness.
Thine, oh Lord, is the power.
Thine, oh Lord, is the glory,
And the majesty and the spendour.
For all that is in the heavens and the earth is Your's.
Your's is the kingdom and You are,
Exalted as Head over all,
Exalted as Head over all.
http://newhopemusic.com/thine.htm
Sadhu Sundar Singh
http://www.esspirit.com/jesubhaktan/sadhu.htm
An Unexpected Visitor
Many a time Sundar Singh felt the loneliness of soul that comes to those whose lives are given to spiritual things. The lonely walk of spirit that is the part of those whose lives have been grasped by the Son of the Highest is part of the road to glory. A missionary once said of him "He must live very near to God to stand it", and that is true of him to continue. Never impatient, never too wearied to meet people who seek him, always gracious and ready night or day for the tasks that fall to him, he is a living copy of his Master. Sharing his Master's spirit, he also shares His loneliness.
Speaking of such a day as this Sundar Singh tells of a day when he was unusually tired, hungry and footsore. Utterly dejected, he was painfully trudging along when he was joined by a man who entered into conversation with him, and so led him out of himself that he forgot his misery in the charming companionship of his new friend. They went on together unto they came close to a village, when much to Sadhu's perturbation he found himself once more alone. He cannot explain it, but his own words are, "I now know that it was an angel of the Lord sent to strengthen and uphold me in my hour of weakness."
Thine, Oh Lord, Is The Greatness
Thine, oh Lord, is the greatness.
Thine, oh Lord, is the power.
Thine, oh Lord, is the glory,
And the majesty and the spendour.
For all that is in the heavens and the earth is Your's.
Your's is the kingdom and You are,
Exalted as Head over all,
Exalted as Head over all.
http://newhopemusic.com/thine.htm
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The Cab Ride (Author Unknown)
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry.
Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.
Responding To A Call
I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers,or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.
When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.
A Frail Elderly Voice
"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years.
All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
"It's nothing", I told her.
"I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
Could You Drive Me Downtown?
When we got in the cab, she gave me and address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.
Memories
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
The Closing Of A Life
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry.
Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.
Responding To A Call
I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers,or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.
When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.
A Frail Elderly Voice
"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years.
All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
"It's nothing", I told her.
"I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
Could You Drive Me Downtown?
When we got in the cab, she gave me and address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.
Memories
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
The Closing Of A Life
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.
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AnnMercy2....We appreciated your testimony. Our Lord is a glorious and wonderful Saviour and with grateful hearts we worship Him. I will be disappearing for a couple of days returning hopefully with a few more stories to present for those who are interested.....God richly bless you all.
Hang In There!
Nicolo Paganini was a well-known and gifted nineteenth century violinist. He was also well known as a great showman with a quick sense of humor. His most memorable concert was in Italy with a full orchestra. He was performing before a packed house and his technique was incredible, his tone was fantastic, and his audience dearly loved him. Toward the end of his concert, Paganini was astounding his audience with an unbelievable composition when suddenly one string on his violin snapped and hung limply from his instrument. Paganini frowned briefly, shook his head, and continued to play, improvising beautifully. Then to everyone's surprise, a second string broke. And shortly thereafter, a third. Almost like a slapstick comedy, Paganini stood there with three strings dangling from his Stradivarius. But instead of leaving the stage, Paganini stood his ground and calmly completed the difficult number on the one remaining string.
Hang In There!
Nicolo Paganini was a well-known and gifted nineteenth century violinist. He was also well known as a great showman with a quick sense of humor. His most memorable concert was in Italy with a full orchestra. He was performing before a packed house and his technique was incredible, his tone was fantastic, and his audience dearly loved him. Toward the end of his concert, Paganini was astounding his audience with an unbelievable composition when suddenly one string on his violin snapped and hung limply from his instrument. Paganini frowned briefly, shook his head, and continued to play, improvising beautifully. Then to everyone's surprise, a second string broke. And shortly thereafter, a third. Almost like a slapstick comedy, Paganini stood there with three strings dangling from his Stradivarius. But instead of leaving the stage, Paganini stood his ground and calmly completed the difficult number on the one remaining string.
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WHAT DOES GOD THINK OF YOU?
During her very successful career as an operatic singer, Jenny Lind was known as "The Swedish Nightingale." She became one of the wealthiest artists of her time, yet she left the stage when she was singing her best.
Countless people speculated as to the reason for her leaving, and most people wondered how she could give up so much fame and money. She seemed content however, to live in privacy in a home by the sea.
One day a friend found her sitting in the sand on the beach, her Bible on her knees, looking out into the glorious glow of a sunset. As they talked, the friend asked,
"Madame Goldschmidt, how is it that you ever came to abandon the stage at the height of your success?"
She answered quietly,
"When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?"
The world may never understand your decision to follow God's way. But then, perhaps God cannot understand a decision to pursue what the world offers when He has such great rewards in store for those who follow Him.
Be more concerned with what God thinks about you than what people think of you.
Author unknown.
During her very successful career as an operatic singer, Jenny Lind was known as "The Swedish Nightingale." She became one of the wealthiest artists of her time, yet she left the stage when she was singing her best.
Countless people speculated as to the reason for her leaving, and most people wondered how she could give up so much fame and money. She seemed content however, to live in privacy in a home by the sea.
One day a friend found her sitting in the sand on the beach, her Bible on her knees, looking out into the glorious glow of a sunset. As they talked, the friend asked,
"Madame Goldschmidt, how is it that you ever came to abandon the stage at the height of your success?"
She answered quietly,
"When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?"
The world may never understand your decision to follow God's way. But then, perhaps God cannot understand a decision to pursue what the world offers when He has such great rewards in store for those who follow Him.
Be more concerned with what God thinks about you than what people think of you.
Author unknown.
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SCARS OF LIFE
Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.
His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.
The Passion
From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go.
A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
The Interview
The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."
You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, or anything quite so dramatic. But the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go.
In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way.
But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms be very, very grateful. He did not and will not - let you go.
Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/o/l/oltwnlmg.htm
"God is to us a God of deliverance. And, due to Yahweh, My Lord, are escapes from death."
Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.
His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.
The Passion
From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go.
A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
The Interview
The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."
You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, or anything quite so dramatic. But the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go.
In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way.
But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms be very, very grateful. He did not and will not - let you go.
Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/o/l/oltwnlmg.htm
"God is to us a God of deliverance. And, due to Yahweh, My Lord, are escapes from death."
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BaBiDaNsTaR
MaGaZiNa, ISsUe 16!
Wow, thank the Lord, I just heard on the news that Elizabeth Smart was found alive. I can't believe it, it really is a miracle. Nine months missing...and she is alive..wow thank the Lord for that! Wow...
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They Walk Among Us
Time for Angels
A 1994 cover story of Time magazine called it a "grass-roots revolution of the spirit". The article, 'The New Age of Angels,' states: "69 per cent of Americans believe they [angels] exist. What in heaven is going on?"
Writer Nancy Gibbs explores the questions many people are seeking to answer about the nature and role of angels in the universe. Gibbs states: "By scriptural tradition, angels pull back the curtain, however briefly, on the realm of the Spirit. [And in] offering a glimpse of the larger universe, they issue a challenge to priorities and settled ways.
" Angels, she claims, seem to be a universal idea that cuts across cultures and spans centuries. Fifty-five per cent of adult Americans believe that angels are higher spiritual beings created by God with special powers to act as his agents on earth.
Whether an angel appears in a dream, as a comforting presence, or a physical person, there exists a remarkable similarity among reports of such encounters.
Two angelic experiences are related in the Time article:
A woman with uterine cancer is visited by a tall, dark stranger with deep blue eyes three days before she is to enter the hospital for surgery. The stranger states: "I am Thomas. I am sent by God." He proceeds to raise his right hand and the incredible heat coming from his hand and a strong white light passing over her body convinces the woman she is cured of the cancer. In fact, test results prove negative, prompting her doctor to acknowledge he had "witnessed a medical miracle".
Another woman reveals that her husband, in the throes of lymphocytic leukemia, was visited by a pale, white man with icy blue eyes. After the visit, the terminally ill man seemed "lit up, just vibrant", according to his wife. He died two days later, but with what his wife called extraordinary peace of mind.
A Change Of Attitude, Not Just Circumstances
The encounters with angels seem to provide in some cases the extrication from danger, but in others they allow for the removal of the fear of that danger -- a change in attitude, not circumstance. The common thread is a profound change in the lives of those who have had an experience with angels.
The article concludes:
"For all those who say they have had a direct experience of angels, no proof is necessary; for those predisposed to doubt angels' existence, no proof is possible. And for those in the mystified middle, there is often a growing desire to be persuaded. If heaven is willing to sing to us, it is little to ask that we be ready to listen." (Source: Time magazine)
Holy holy holy are You Lord,
Holy holy holy are You Lord.
The elders and angels bow,
The redeemed worship You now,
Holy holy holy are You Lord.
Abba, Father
http://newhopemusic.com/abba.htm
Time for Angels
A 1994 cover story of Time magazine called it a "grass-roots revolution of the spirit". The article, 'The New Age of Angels,' states: "69 per cent of Americans believe they [angels] exist. What in heaven is going on?"
Writer Nancy Gibbs explores the questions many people are seeking to answer about the nature and role of angels in the universe. Gibbs states: "By scriptural tradition, angels pull back the curtain, however briefly, on the realm of the Spirit. [And in] offering a glimpse of the larger universe, they issue a challenge to priorities and settled ways.
" Angels, she claims, seem to be a universal idea that cuts across cultures and spans centuries. Fifty-five per cent of adult Americans believe that angels are higher spiritual beings created by God with special powers to act as his agents on earth.
Whether an angel appears in a dream, as a comforting presence, or a physical person, there exists a remarkable similarity among reports of such encounters.
Two angelic experiences are related in the Time article:
A woman with uterine cancer is visited by a tall, dark stranger with deep blue eyes three days before she is to enter the hospital for surgery. The stranger states: "I am Thomas. I am sent by God." He proceeds to raise his right hand and the incredible heat coming from his hand and a strong white light passing over her body convinces the woman she is cured of the cancer. In fact, test results prove negative, prompting her doctor to acknowledge he had "witnessed a medical miracle".
Another woman reveals that her husband, in the throes of lymphocytic leukemia, was visited by a pale, white man with icy blue eyes. After the visit, the terminally ill man seemed "lit up, just vibrant", according to his wife. He died two days later, but with what his wife called extraordinary peace of mind.
A Change Of Attitude, Not Just Circumstances
The encounters with angels seem to provide in some cases the extrication from danger, but in others they allow for the removal of the fear of that danger -- a change in attitude, not circumstance. The common thread is a profound change in the lives of those who have had an experience with angels.
The article concludes:
"For all those who say they have had a direct experience of angels, no proof is necessary; for those predisposed to doubt angels' existence, no proof is possible. And for those in the mystified middle, there is often a growing desire to be persuaded. If heaven is willing to sing to us, it is little to ask that we be ready to listen." (Source: Time magazine)
Holy holy holy are You Lord,
Holy holy holy are You Lord.
The elders and angels bow,
The redeemed worship You now,
Holy holy holy are You Lord.
Abba, Father
http://newhopemusic.com/abba.htm
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Angels in America
"Angels in America", a recent cover story of the popular US magazine People, describes how the lives of several individuals were changed by what they consider divine intervention.
Hilary Russell
Six-year-old Hilary Russell of Miami Beach, Florida, was caught in a riptide on a blustery winter day in 1978. Her parents thought for certain she was going to drown, but her father, Richard, suddenly noticed a dark-haired man of about 30 standing near Hilary. The stranger "just plucked her out of the water and held her in his arms," Richard says. Hilary recalls that the man was tanned, "and the hair on his arms was dark, and it glistened, even though it was cloudy out." Hilary's mother was astonished by the "effortless" way the man strode through the waves, which reached only to his chest although he seemed to be in deeper. Back on shore, the man put Hilary in Susan's arms. Susan thanked the man. "I remember him saying, 'That's okay,' and he was smiling," Richard says. With Hilary safe, Richard and Susan embraced -- but when they looked back, the man was gone.
Gary Forner
As Gary Forner plunged down the sheer face of a coastal cliff at Cape Disappointment, Washington, on 30 August 1994 he thought he was going to die. But about 30 or 40 feet down the 90-foot drop the veteran park ranger's fall was suddenly halted as he felt something pushing him against the rock face. "It was definitely the hand of God or an angel," says Forner, who had set out with three volunteers to save a stranded climber. "Right on my sternum, I could feel this tremendous force pushing me back. Suddenly I felt an incredible warmth right over my heart. Like when you're a kid, and you get hurt, and your mom or dad pick you up and cuddle you. All I could think was: 'Sweet Jesus, thank you.'" Forner climbed back up the mountain using a network of tree roots. His wife was home that evening when, she says, she "heard a small voice in my brain say, 'Gary fell, but he's okay."
Barbara Kahn-Langer
In 1984 Barbara Kahn-Langer of Scotts Valley, California, was scheduled for brain surgery to implant a radioactive seed in an otherwise untreatable tumour. As she waited on a hospital-trolley outside the operating room, she remembered an experience she had three months before, following exploratory surgery that confirmed the malignancy. When she had regained consciousness, "my entire vision was full of this huge, golden being," she says. "I was being held in the arms of this being. I was swathed head to foot, like a baby, in a golden cloth." Kahn-Langer never had the second operation. Her astonished doctor arrived with the CAT scan and told her: "Barbara, you cheated me out of $4,000 -- the tumour is gone!" Since then, she says she has had the ability to see angels.
David Sandler
Kahn-Langer's partner David Sandler has his own miraculous story to tell. In 1974, he was diagnosed with lymphoma and given three years to live. By 1977, he lay in the hospital, close to death. But then Sandler heard a loud voice singing a Hebrew song he'd known as a child: "Hear O Israel, the Lord my God, the Lord is One." At that moment, he says, "I moved out of my body up to the ceiling. I felt that love I had for God when I was a child. The word ecstasy comes to mind -- I was as happy as I could be. Then I started sinking back, and it was a shock -- the body I left is not the one I came back to." Later, tests proved that Sandler's body was cancer-free.
Donna Terody "Please take me back."
When a powerful storm hit the 53-foot yacht that Donna Terody and her husband, Peter, were sailing from Palm Beach, Florida, to the Bahamas in July 1992, she was sure she was going to die. In fact, Terody wanted to die. She had suffered from painful kidney problems since the age of four, and had become virtually bedridden. During the storm, she prayed: "God, just make it quick and painless." But then she felt a pull upward: "There was a brilliant white light," she said. "Entering it, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of peace and tranquility. Several angels emerged and floated toward me, filling me with their healing light." Terody felt herself falling back toward her body. "I'm dead," she thought. But a voice told her, "You still have work to do. You have to go back." When Terody woke up, she was facing a gigantic angel. "I begged him, 'Please take me back.'" He vanished but left her with a profound sense of well-being. "The angels healed me. They sent me back to paint angels." Since then, she has been creating pastel images which she says are designed to comfort others, and help people have their own angelic encounters.
(Source: People Magazine, USA; reported in Share International, January-February 1998 )
How Awesome Is This Place
http://newhopemusic.com/howawesome.htm
"Angels in America", a recent cover story of the popular US magazine People, describes how the lives of several individuals were changed by what they consider divine intervention.
Hilary Russell
Six-year-old Hilary Russell of Miami Beach, Florida, was caught in a riptide on a blustery winter day in 1978. Her parents thought for certain she was going to drown, but her father, Richard, suddenly noticed a dark-haired man of about 30 standing near Hilary. The stranger "just plucked her out of the water and held her in his arms," Richard says. Hilary recalls that the man was tanned, "and the hair on his arms was dark, and it glistened, even though it was cloudy out." Hilary's mother was astonished by the "effortless" way the man strode through the waves, which reached only to his chest although he seemed to be in deeper. Back on shore, the man put Hilary in Susan's arms. Susan thanked the man. "I remember him saying, 'That's okay,' and he was smiling," Richard says. With Hilary safe, Richard and Susan embraced -- but when they looked back, the man was gone.
Gary Forner
As Gary Forner plunged down the sheer face of a coastal cliff at Cape Disappointment, Washington, on 30 August 1994 he thought he was going to die. But about 30 or 40 feet down the 90-foot drop the veteran park ranger's fall was suddenly halted as he felt something pushing him against the rock face. "It was definitely the hand of God or an angel," says Forner, who had set out with three volunteers to save a stranded climber. "Right on my sternum, I could feel this tremendous force pushing me back. Suddenly I felt an incredible warmth right over my heart. Like when you're a kid, and you get hurt, and your mom or dad pick you up and cuddle you. All I could think was: 'Sweet Jesus, thank you.'" Forner climbed back up the mountain using a network of tree roots. His wife was home that evening when, she says, she "heard a small voice in my brain say, 'Gary fell, but he's okay."
Barbara Kahn-Langer
In 1984 Barbara Kahn-Langer of Scotts Valley, California, was scheduled for brain surgery to implant a radioactive seed in an otherwise untreatable tumour. As she waited on a hospital-trolley outside the operating room, she remembered an experience she had three months before, following exploratory surgery that confirmed the malignancy. When she had regained consciousness, "my entire vision was full of this huge, golden being," she says. "I was being held in the arms of this being. I was swathed head to foot, like a baby, in a golden cloth." Kahn-Langer never had the second operation. Her astonished doctor arrived with the CAT scan and told her: "Barbara, you cheated me out of $4,000 -- the tumour is gone!" Since then, she says she has had the ability to see angels.
David Sandler
Kahn-Langer's partner David Sandler has his own miraculous story to tell. In 1974, he was diagnosed with lymphoma and given three years to live. By 1977, he lay in the hospital, close to death. But then Sandler heard a loud voice singing a Hebrew song he'd known as a child: "Hear O Israel, the Lord my God, the Lord is One." At that moment, he says, "I moved out of my body up to the ceiling. I felt that love I had for God when I was a child. The word ecstasy comes to mind -- I was as happy as I could be. Then I started sinking back, and it was a shock -- the body I left is not the one I came back to." Later, tests proved that Sandler's body was cancer-free.
Donna Terody "Please take me back."
When a powerful storm hit the 53-foot yacht that Donna Terody and her husband, Peter, were sailing from Palm Beach, Florida, to the Bahamas in July 1992, she was sure she was going to die. In fact, Terody wanted to die. She had suffered from painful kidney problems since the age of four, and had become virtually bedridden. During the storm, she prayed: "God, just make it quick and painless." But then she felt a pull upward: "There was a brilliant white light," she said. "Entering it, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of peace and tranquility. Several angels emerged and floated toward me, filling me with their healing light." Terody felt herself falling back toward her body. "I'm dead," she thought. But a voice told her, "You still have work to do. You have to go back." When Terody woke up, she was facing a gigantic angel. "I begged him, 'Please take me back.'" He vanished but left her with a profound sense of well-being. "The angels healed me. They sent me back to paint angels." Since then, she has been creating pastel images which she says are designed to comfort others, and help people have their own angelic encounters.
(Source: People Magazine, USA; reported in Share International, January-February 1998 )
How Awesome Is This Place
http://newhopemusic.com/howawesome.htm
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Doede's Miraculous Recovery
http://museltof.bravepages.com/doedesstory.html
Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but Thou art mighty,
Hold me in Thy powerful hand;
Bread of heaven,
Feed me till I want no more.
When I tred the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Death of death, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side;
Songs of praises
I will ever give to Thee. (Wm. Williams 1717-1791)
http://museltof.bravepages.com/doedesstory.html
Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but Thou art mighty,
Hold me in Thy powerful hand;
Bread of heaven,
Feed me till I want no more.
When I tred the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Death of death, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side;
Songs of praises
I will ever give to Thee. (Wm. Williams 1717-1791)
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Five Short Chapter On Change
Chapter 1.
I walk down a street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. It takes forever to get out. It's my fault.
Chapter 2.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It still takes a long time to get out. It's not my fault.
Chapter 3.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It's becoming a habit. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Chapter 4.
I walk down the same street and see the deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
Chapter 5.
I walk down a different street.
"And now, through your union with Christ Jesus, you who were so far away, by the shedding of the blood of Christ, are with us inside the circle of God's love. For He is our peace...."
Chapter 1.
I walk down a street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. It takes forever to get out. It's my fault.
Chapter 2.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It still takes a long time to get out. It's not my fault.
Chapter 3.
I walk down the same street. I fall in the hole again. It's becoming a habit. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Chapter 4.
I walk down the same street and see the deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
Chapter 5.
I walk down a different street.
"And now, through your union with Christ Jesus, you who were so far away, by the shedding of the blood of Christ, are with us inside the circle of God's love. For He is our peace...."
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BaBiDaNsTaR
MaGaZiNa, ISsUe 16!
David-I really like the Five Short Chapters on Change. I read Doede's story and it was really sad. I'm glad that she was able to get through this and still has hope and love for the Lord. :-D!
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Hi there Zina, it is always a pleasure seeing you across the miles of cyberland. Keep the dance steps moving in His direction BabyDancingStar!
There is a wonderful word regarding the Law of Christ.....
"Bear ye one anothers burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ." What a wonderful law!
A Girl In The C.D. Store
There was once a guy who suffered from cancer... a cancer that can't be treated. He was 18 years old and he could die anytime. All his life, he was stuck in his house being taken care of by his mother. He never went outside but he was sick of staying home and wanted to go out for once. So he asked his mother and she gave him permission.
He walked down his block and found a lot of stores. He passed a CD store and looked through the front door for a second as he walked. He stopped and went back to look into the store. He saw a young girl about his age and he knew it was love at first sight. He opened the door and walked in, not looking at anything else but her. He walked closer and closer until he was finally at the front desk where she sat.
A Beautiful Smile
She looked up and asked, "Can I help you?"
She smiled and he thought it was the most beautiful smile he has ever seen before and wanted to kiss her right there.
He said, "Uh... Yeah... Umm... I would like to buy a CD."
He picked one out and gave her money for it.
"Would you like me to wrap it for you?" she asked, smiling her cute smile again.
He nodded and she went to the back.
She came back with the wrapped CD and gave it to him. He took it and walked out of the store. He went home and from then on, he went to that store everyday and bought a CD, and she wrapped it for him. He took the CD home and put it in his closet. He was still too shy to ask her out and he really wanted to but he couldn't. His mother found out about this and told him to just ask her.
So the next day, he took all his courage and went to the store. He bought a CD like he did everyday and once again she went to the back of the store and came back with it wrapped. He took it and when she wasn't looking, he left his phone number on the desk and ran out...
!!!RRRRRING!!!
The mother picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"
It was the girl!!! She asked for the boy and the mother started to cry and said, "You don't know? He passed away yesterday..."
The line was quiet except for the cries of the boy's mother. Later in the day. The mother went into the boy's room because she wanted to remember him. She thought she would start by looking at his clothes. So she opened the closet. She was face to face with piles and piles and piles of unopened CDs. She was surprised to find all those CDs and she picked one up and sat down on the bed and she started to open one.
Inside, there was a CD and as she took it out of the wrapper, out fell a piece of paper. The mother picked it up and started to read it.
It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? Love, Jacelyn
The mother opened another CD...
Again there was a piece of paper. It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? Love, Jacelyn
There is a wonderful word regarding the Law of Christ.....
"Bear ye one anothers burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ." What a wonderful law!
A Girl In The C.D. Store
There was once a guy who suffered from cancer... a cancer that can't be treated. He was 18 years old and he could die anytime. All his life, he was stuck in his house being taken care of by his mother. He never went outside but he was sick of staying home and wanted to go out for once. So he asked his mother and she gave him permission.
He walked down his block and found a lot of stores. He passed a CD store and looked through the front door for a second as he walked. He stopped and went back to look into the store. He saw a young girl about his age and he knew it was love at first sight. He opened the door and walked in, not looking at anything else but her. He walked closer and closer until he was finally at the front desk where she sat.
A Beautiful Smile
She looked up and asked, "Can I help you?"
She smiled and he thought it was the most beautiful smile he has ever seen before and wanted to kiss her right there.
He said, "Uh... Yeah... Umm... I would like to buy a CD."
He picked one out and gave her money for it.
"Would you like me to wrap it for you?" she asked, smiling her cute smile again.
He nodded and she went to the back.
She came back with the wrapped CD and gave it to him. He took it and walked out of the store. He went home and from then on, he went to that store everyday and bought a CD, and she wrapped it for him. He took the CD home and put it in his closet. He was still too shy to ask her out and he really wanted to but he couldn't. His mother found out about this and told him to just ask her.
So the next day, he took all his courage and went to the store. He bought a CD like he did everyday and once again she went to the back of the store and came back with it wrapped. He took it and when she wasn't looking, he left his phone number on the desk and ran out...
!!!RRRRRING!!!
The mother picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"
It was the girl!!! She asked for the boy and the mother started to cry and said, "You don't know? He passed away yesterday..."
The line was quiet except for the cries of the boy's mother. Later in the day. The mother went into the boy's room because she wanted to remember him. She thought she would start by looking at his clothes. So she opened the closet. She was face to face with piles and piles and piles of unopened CDs. She was surprised to find all those CDs and she picked one up and sat down on the bed and she started to open one.
Inside, there was a CD and as she took it out of the wrapper, out fell a piece of paper. The mother picked it up and started to read it.
It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? Love, Jacelyn
The mother opened another CD...
Again there was a piece of paper. It said: Hi... I think U R really cute. Do u wanna go out with me? Love, Jacelyn
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A Lesson to Teach
Her name was Mrs. Thompson. As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie.
Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. But that was impossible, because there in the front row,slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Teddy Stoddard
Mrs.Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs.Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote,
"His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume.
But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs.Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to," After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.
By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs.Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer -- the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs.Thompson did.
And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together. They hugged each other,and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs.Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference.I didn't really know how to teach until I met you."
Please remember that wherever you go, and whatever you do, you will have the opportunity to touch and/or change a person's outlook.
Please try to do it in a positive way:
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly"
Her name was Mrs. Thompson. As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie.
Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. But that was impossible, because there in the front row,slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Teddy Stoddard
Mrs.Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs.Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote,
"His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote,
"Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume.
But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs.Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to," After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.
By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs.Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer -- the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs.Thompson did.
And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together. They hugged each other,and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs.Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference.I didn't really know how to teach until I met you."
Please remember that wherever you go, and whatever you do, you will have the opportunity to touch and/or change a person's outlook.
Please try to do it in a positive way:
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly"
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BaBiDaNsTaR
MaGaZiNa, ISsUe 16!
Please pray for me David-Tryouts are coming up again at school for the dance team and I'm awfully nervous but I've prayed that God will give me the strength to not be nervous....gosh...now I'm almost dreading Friday!
Btw..."A Lesson to Teach..." very heart-warming...
Btw
..."A Lesson to Teach..." very heart-warming...
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