View Full Version : stories that make you think maybe life isnt so bad
Her hair up in a pony tail,
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why, the kids might not understand
If she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates,
on this Daddy's Day.
But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school,
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees,
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called,
A student from the class
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them were searching
For a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?"
She heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one,"
Another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her,
As she smiled at her friends
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to begin.
And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.
"My Daddy couldn't be here,
because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be
With me on this day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know
All about my daddy
And how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories,
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I'm not standing all alone.
'Cause my daddy's always with me,
Even though we are apart.
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be here in my heart."
With that her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat
Beneath her favorite dress.
From somewhere in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
She stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life,
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.
When she dropped her hand back down
Staring straight into the crowd,
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much,
He's my shining star.
If he could he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.
Sometimes when I close my eyes,
It's like he never went away."
Then she closed her eyes
And saw him there that day.
To her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for a second
They saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy,"
To the silence she called out.
What happened next made believers
Of those once filled with doubt.
No one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there placed on her desktop,
Was a beautiful fragrant pink rose.
A child was blessed, if only a moment,
By the love of her shining bright star
And given the gift of believing,
That heaven is never too FAR.
Bill was a big, awkward, homely guy. He dressed oddly with ill-fitting clothes. There were several fellows who thought it smart to make fun of him. One day one fellow noticed a small tear in his shirt and gave it a small rip. Another worker in the factory added his bit, and before long there was quite a ribbon dangling. Bill went on about his work and as he passed too near a moving belt the shirt strip was sucked into the machinery. In a split second the sleeve and Bill were in trouble. Alarms were sounded, switches pulled, and trouble was avoided.
The foreman, however, aware of what had happened, summoned the men and related this story: "In my younger days I worked in a small factory. That's when I first met Mike. He was big and witty, was always making jokes, and playing little pranks. Mike was a leader. Then there was Pete who was a follower. He always went along with Mike. And then there was a man named Jake. "He was a little older than the rest of us - quiet, harmless, apart. He always ate his lunch by himself. He wore the same patched trousers for three years straight. He never entered into the games we played at noon, wrestling, horse shoes and such. He appeared to be indifferent, always sitting quietly alone under a tree instead. Jake was a natural target for practical jokes. "He might find a live frog in his dinner pail, or a dead rodent in his hat. But he always took it in good humor.
Then one Fall when things were slack, Mike took off a few days to go hunting. Pete went along, of course. And they promised all of us that if they got anything they'd bring us each a piece. "So we were all quite excited when we heard that they'd returned and that Mike had got a really big buck. We heard more than that. Pete could never keep anything to himself, and it leaked out that they had real whopper to play on Jake. "Mike had cut up the critter and had made a nice package for each of us. And, for the laugh, for the joke of it, he had saved the ears, the tail, the hoofs - it would be so funny when Jake unwrapped them.
"Mike distributed his packages during the noon hour. We each got a nice piece, opened it, and thanked him. The biggest package of all he saved until last. It was for Jake. Pete was all but bursting; and Mike looked very smug. Like always, Jake sat by himself; he was on the far side of the big table. Mike pushed the package over to where he could reach it; and we all sat and waited. "Jake was never one to say much. You might never know that he was around for all the talking he did. In three years he'd never said a hundred words. So we were all quite astounded with what happened next. He took the package firmly in his grip and rose slowly to his feet.
He smiled broadly at Mike - and it was then we noticed that his eyes were glistening. His adam's apple bobbed up and down for a moment and then he got control of himself. "'I knew you wouldn't forget me,' he said gratefully; 'I knew you'd come through! You're big and you're playful, but I knew all along that you had a good heart.' "He swallowed again, and then took in the rest of us. 'I know I haven't seemed too chummy with you men; but I never meant to be rude.
You see, I've got nine kids at home - and a wife that's been an invalid - bedfast now for four years. She ain't ever going to get any better. And sometimes when she's real bad off, I have to sit up all night to take care of her. And most of my wages have had to go for doctors and medicine. The kids do all they can to help out, but at times it's been hard to keep food in their mouths. Maybe you think it's funny that I go off by myself to eat my dinner.
Well, I guess I've been a little ashamed, because I don't always have anything between my sandwich. Or like today - maybe there's only a raw turnip in my pail. But I want you to know that this meat really means a lot to me. Maybe more than to anybody here because tonight my kids . . .' he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, '. . . tonight my kids will have a really . . .' "He tugged at the string.
We'd been watching Jake so intently we hadn't paid much notice to Mike and Pete. But we all noticed them now, because they both dove at once to try to grab the package. But they were too late. Jake had broken the wrapper and was already surveying his present. He examined each hoof, each ear, and then he held up the tail. It wiggled limply. It should have been so funny, but nobody laughed - nobody at all. "But the hardest part was when Jake looked up and said 'Thank you' while trying to smile.
Silently one by one each man moved forward carrying his package and quietly placed it in front of Jake for they had suddenly realized how little their own gift had really meant to them . . . until now . . .
This was where the foreman left the story and the men. He didn't need to say anymore; but it was gratifying to notice that as each man ate his lunch that day, they shared part with Bill and one fellow even took off his shirt and gave it to him."
that makes me cry everytime i read it
The 26-year-old mother stared down at her son who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible.
The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dreams to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, "Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"
"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."
Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true,"
Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her six-year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! "And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy one - with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get them fast."
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his fire uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.
Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the paramedic's van and even the fire chief's car. He was also video taped for the local news program.
Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a fireman, so she called the fire chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition. The chief replied, " We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor?
When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It's just the fire department coming to see one of it's finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room? Thanks."
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital, extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window and 16 firefighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they loved him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?"
"Billy, you are," the chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and closed his eyes one last time.
Once upon a time two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.
Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.
One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I'm looking for a few days work" he said.
"Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?"
"Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor, in fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence - an 8-foot fence - so I won't need to see his place anymore. Cool him down, anyhow."
The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."
The older brother had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.
The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing.
About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped.
There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge... a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work handrails and all - and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched.
"You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done."
The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.
"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, "but, I have many more bridges to build."
"Can I see my baby?" the happy new mother asked.
When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped. The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears.
Time proved that the baby's hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred. When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks.
He blurted out the tragedy. "A boy, a big boy...called me a freak."
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music.
"But you might mingle with other young people," his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart.
The boy's father had a session with the family physician... "Could nothing be done?"
"I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears, if they could be procured" the doctor decided. Whereupon the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man.
Two years went by. One day, his father said to the son, "You're going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it's a secret," said the father.
The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs.
Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. One day, he asked his father, "Who gave me the ears? Who gave me so much? I could never do enough for him or her."
"I do not believe you could," said the father, "but the agreement was that you are not to know...not yet."
The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come. One of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother's casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish brown hair to reveal the mother had no outer ears.
"Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," his father whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they"?
REMEMBER...
Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance,
but in the heart.
Real treasure lies not in what can be seen,
but what cannot be seen.
Real love lies not in what is done and known,
but in what that is done but not known.
Oh where oh where can my baby be
The lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven so I got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world
We were out on a date in my daddy's car
We hadn't driven very far,
There in the road straight ahead
A car was stalled the engine was dead
I couldn't stop so I swerved to the right
I’ll never forget the sound that night
The screaming tyres, the busting glass
The painful scream that I heard last
Oh where oh where can my baby be
The lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven so I got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world
When I woke up the rain was falling down
There were people standing all around
Something warm flowing through my eyes
But some how I found my baby that night
I lifted her head she looked at me and said
Hold me darling just a little while
I held her close , I kissed her our last kiss
I found the love that I knew I would miss
Oh now she's gone even though I hold her tight
I lost my love, my life that night
Oh where oh where can my baby be
The lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven so I got to be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world
Why is mommy crying like that?
Why is daddy sad?
Why is daddy hitting her?
Did I make my daddy mad?
As daddy leaves, mommy comes over to me,
She says that I'm the reason she got beat.
Mommy is crying as she lifts up her hand,
After she hits me, hard on the floor I land.
She isn't stopping she is coming at me again,
She says "I'll get you for what you did young man.
What did I do? What did I say?
Why does this happen to me every day?
Mommy goes to bed after she let her anger out,
Daddy is back and all he does is shout.
He sees me laying on the floor covered in my own blood,
I look up and ask him "Why?" , he kicks me and says "Just Because".
I start to cry, he yells at me to shut-up,
But for some reason my tears just don't stop.
He picks me up and locks
me in our closet in he hall,
I can hear them fighting again through our paper thin walls.
One of them will kill me I know this is a fact,
No matter how much I
love them I can never change that.
So last night in my room I wrote them a note,
I put it in the left pocket of my old coat.
One last question to them is all it says,
Mommy and Daddy: will you love me when I'm Dead.......
I'm going to stop reading these cause they are making me :crying:
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at Stanford Hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her five-year-old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister.
I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it... if it will save Liza."
As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?"
Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give her all his blood.
I'm going to stop reading these cause they are making me :crying:
i know,is it having that effect on you too? i keep having to wipe away the tears too
I'm going to stop reading these cause they are making me :crying:
Snap getting funny looks now cause i keep sniffing
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 12:52
Chnace are you trying to make me sit here bawling my eyes out????
lol sorry! shal i not post anymore until later?
i know,is it having that effect on you too? i keep having to wipe away the tears toomy poor hormones :crying: :crying: I'm definitely not going to read anymore these poor children!!!
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 12:55
lol sorry! shal i not post anymore until later?
why so I can get red eyed twice in a day? LOL
nah you post away! :)
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 12:56
my poor hormones :crying: :crying: I'm definitely not going to read anymore these poor children!!!
at least you have your hormones to blame it on - what about me - I just have to admit to being a "big girls blouse"
I have no problem in admitting that i am a big sap and will cry at anything
at least you have your hormones to blame it on - what about me - I just have to admit to being a "big girls blouse"That is one of the perks of being pregnant - there isn't a lot I can't blame on it!!! :rotfl: (P.S. I'm a big girls blouse too - don't tell anyone!!! ) :rotfl:
There are little eyes upon you
and they're watching night and day.
There are little ears that quickly
take in every word you say.
There are little hands all eager
to do anything you do;
And a little boy who's dreaming
of the day he'll be like you.
You're the little fellow's idol,
you're the wisest of the wise.
In his little mind about you
no suspicions ever rise.
He believes in you devoutly,
holds all you say and do;
He will say and do, in your way
when he's grown up just like you.
There's a wide eyed little fellow
who believes you're always right;
and his eyes are always opened,
and he watches day and night.
You are setting an example
every day in all you do;
For the little boy who's waiting
to grow up to be like you.
Chloe O'brien
06-09-2005, 13:02
Please no more I am in floods of tears. :crying: :crying: Its just as well the boss is on holiday and I have the office to myself. I can't blame my hormones as I'm not pregant I'm just a chicken hearty soppy cow.
Love Chloe xx
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 13:04
Please no more I am in floods of tears. Its just as well the boss is on holiday and I have the office to myself. I can't blame my hormones as I'm not pregant I'm just a chicken hearty soppy cow.
Love Chloe xx
Chloe you make me feel better - we can be chicken hearted soppy cows together
Please no more I am in floods of tears. Its just as well the boss is on holiday and I have the office to myself. I can't blame my hormones as I'm not pregant I'm just a chicken hearty soppy cow.
Love Chloe xx
aaaawww chloe im the same not pregnant and boss on holiday (good job too)
Although i must admit i love a good sob story
She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
"Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. "I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand.
"That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went glissading down the beach. "Good-bye joy," I muttered to myself, "hello pain," and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Ruth," I answered. "I'm Ruth Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy."
She giggled. "You're funny," she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mrs. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."
The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. "I need a sandpiper," I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.
The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
"Hello, Mrs. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know, you say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk." Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness
of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day.
Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed. Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."
She seems unusually pale and out of breath.
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"Yes, and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt? "
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?" "Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off. A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said. "I'm Ruth Peterson. I missed your little girl today
and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in" "Wendy talked of you so much.
I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all-she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. "Where is she?"
"Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you." Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught.
"She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.
She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." her voice faltered.
"She left something for you...if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together.
The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words- one for each year of her life- that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color sand--- who taught me the gift of love.
NOTE: I hope you have a few Kleenex tissues in that box. The above is a true story sent out by Ruth Peterson. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other.
"The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less"
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 13:08
now I really am bawling my eyes out - the kids are looking at me funny!!
I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy, but.. I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one.
I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy, with the smooth facial features and thick - tongued speech of down syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers, because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.
The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truckstop germ;" the pairs of white shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truckstop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.
I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truckstop mascot. After that I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21 year old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties.
Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in it's place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible, when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching , his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.
Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the tuckstop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was the probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home.
That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down's syndrome often had heart problems at a early age, so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.
A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50 year old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot belle Ringer a withering look.
He grinned."OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.
"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay"
"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"
Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevies surgery, then sighed.
"Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be ok," she said," but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is.
Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie , and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day til we decided what to do.
After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face. "What's up?" I asked.
"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and TonyTipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said," This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup."
She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie"
"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, " so I told him about Stevie and his mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this."
She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on it's outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within it's folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply"truckers".
That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy.
I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.
Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.
"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me."
I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the possession.
We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.
" First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern.
Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something For Stevie printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two &10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.
I turned to his mother." There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. Happy Thanksgiving."
Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well... but you know what's funny????
While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table...
Best worker I ever hired......
Voices from the clouds
From heaven above
Ray of sunshine looking down
Showering us with love
I'll always be there
So don't say good-bye
I am in your heart
The tear in your eye
My oldest My love
Your special to me
Your love must be strong
Like the wind at sea
To my second born
My wish will not be in vain
I'll see you Graduate
Only now without pain
To Tommy, My third
A soul wild and free
Always remember
In you theres a little of me
To Angie my youngest
This is what I have to say
A glowing white gown
I'll wear on your wedding day
My Husband, My Love
My best friend
You are my field of dreams
Between us a love to never end
To all others that I love
My family and close friends
This is a time for love to grow
Not for love to end.
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper.
Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy."
He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it?"
The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it is not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family or God.
There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
CrazyLea
06-09-2005, 13:18
I went to a party,
And remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom
So I had a sprite instead.
I felt proud of myself,
The way you said I would,
That I didn't drink and drive,
Though some friends said I should.
I made a healthy choice,
And your advice to me was right,
The party finally ended,
And the kids drove out of sight.
I got into my car,
Sure to get home in one piece,
I never knew what was coming, Mom
Something I expected least.
Now I'm lying on the pavement,
And I hear the policeman say,
The kid that caused this wreck was drunk,
Mom, his voice seems far away.
My own blood's all around me,
As I try hard not to cry.
I can hear the paramedic say,
This girl is going to die.
I'm sure the guy had no idea,
While he was flying high,
Because he chose to drink and drive,
Now I would have to die.
So why do people do it, Mom
Knowing that it ruins lives?
And now the pain is cutting me,
Like a hundred stabbing knives.
Tell sister not to be afraid, Mom
Tell daddy to be brave,
And when I go to heaven,
Put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave.
Someone should have taught him,
That it's wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his parents had,
I'd still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mom
I'm getting really scared.
These are my final moments,
And I'm so unprepared.
I wish that you could hold me Mom,
As I lie here and die.
I wish that I could say, "I love you, Mom!"
So I love you and good-bye.
Teddy, I've been bad again,
My Mommy told me so;
I'm not quite sure what I did wrong,
But I thought that you might know.
When I woke up this morning,
I knew that she was mad;
Cause she was crying awful hard,
And yelling at my dad.
I tried my best to be real good,
And do just what she said;
I cleaned my room all by myself,
I even made my bed.
But I spilled milk on my good shirt,
When she yelled at me to hurry;
And I guess she didn't hear me,
When I told her I was sorry.
Cause she hit me awful hard, you see,
And called me funny names;
And told me I was really bad,
And I should be ashamed.
When I said, "I love you, Mommy,"
I guess she didn't understand;
Cause she yelled at me to shut my mouth.
Or I'd get smacked again.
So I came up here to talk to you,
Please tell me what to do;
Cause I really love my Mommy,
And I know she loves me, too.
And I don't think my Mommy means,
To hit me quite so hard;
I guess sometimes, grown ups forget.
How really big they are.
So Teddy, I wish you were real,
And you weren't just a bear;
Then you could help me find a way.
To tell Mommies every where.
To please try hard to understand.
How sad it makes us feel;
Cause the outside pain soon goes a way,
But the inside never heals.
And if we could make them listen,
Maybe then they'd understand;
So other children just like me,
Wouldn't have to hurt again.
But for now, I guess I'll hold you tight,
And pretend the pain's not there;
I know you'd never hurt me,
So Goodnight, Teddy Bear...
It's not so much what you say,
as the manner in which you say it;
It's not so much the language you use,
as the tone in which you convey it.
"Come here", I sharply said,
And the child cowered and wept.
"Come here", I said he looked and smiled,
And straight to my lap he crept.
Words may be mild and fair,
But the tone may pierce like a dart;
Words may be soft as the summer air,
But the tone may break my heart;
For words come from the mind
Grow by study and art,
But tone leaps from the inner self,
Revealing the state of heart.
Whether you know it or not,
Whether you mean or care,
Gentleness, kindness, love and hate,
Envy, anger are there.
Then, would you quarrels avoid
and peace and love rejoice?
Keep anger not only out of your words,
Keep it out of your voice.
My little boy came into the kitchen this evening while I was fixing supper. And he handed me a piece of paper he'd been writing on. So, after wiping my hands on my apron, I read it, and this is what it said:
For mowing the grass, $5.
For making my own bed this week, $1.
For going to the store $.50.
For playing with baby brother while you went shopping, $.25.
For taking out the trash, $1.
For getting a good report card, $5.
And for raking the yard, $2.
Well, I looked at him standing there expectantly, and a thousand memories flashed through my mind.
So, I picked up the paper, and turning it over, this is what I wrote:
For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me,
No Charge.
For the nights I sat up with you, doctored you prayed for you, No charge.
For the time and the tears, and the cost through the years, No Charge.
For the nights filled with dread, and the worries ahead,
No Charge.
For advice and the knowledge, and the cost of your college, No Charge.
For the toys, food and clothes, and for wiping your nose, No Charge.
Son, when you add it all up, the full cost of my love is
No Charge.
Well, when he finished reading, he had great big tears in his eyes. And he looked up at me and he said, "Mama, I sure do love you."
Then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote:
Paid in Full.
CrazyLea
06-09-2005, 13:39
Girl: Slow down. Im scared.
Guy: No this is fun.
Girl: No its not. Please, it's too scary!
Guy: Then tell me you love me.
Girl: Fine, I love you, but slow down!
Guy: Now give me a BIG hug.
*Girl hugs him*
Guy: Can you take my helmet off & put it on yourself? Its bugging me.
(In the paper the next day):
...A motorcycle crashed into a building last night because of brake failure.
Two people were involved, a male and a female, but only 1 survived.
the truth was that halfway down the road, the 18 year old boy realized
that his brakes had broke, but he didn't want to let his partner know.
Instead, he made her say she loved him and felt her hug one last time,
and let her wear his helmet so that she would live, realizing
he would be the one that would die.
xStephaniex
06-09-2005, 13:40
I'm going to stop reading these cause they are making me :crying:
and me ! :crying: :crying: :(
Chloe O'brien
06-09-2005, 13:42
That's it I'm not reading anymore I have to get some work done. I'm crying so much my glasses are steaming up.:crying: :o
Love Chloe xx
Her hair up in a pony tail,
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why, the kids might not understand
If she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates,
on this Daddy's Day.
But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school,
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees,
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called,
A student from the class
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them were searching
For a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?"
She heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one,"
Another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her,
As she smiled at her friends
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to begin.
And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.
"My Daddy couldn't be here,
because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be
With me on this day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know
All about my daddy
And how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories,
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I'm not standing all alone.
'Cause my daddy's always with me,
Even though we are apart.
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be here in my heart."
With that her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat
Beneath her favorite dress.
From somewhere in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
She stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life,
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.
When she dropped her hand back down
Staring straight into the crowd,
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much,
He's my shining star.
If he could he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.
Sometimes when I close my eyes,
It's like he never went away."
Then she closed her eyes
And saw him there that day.
To her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for a second
They saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy,"
To the silence she called out.
What happened next made believers
Of those once filled with doubt.
No one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there placed on her desktop,
Was a beautiful fragrant pink rose.
A child was blessed, if only a moment,
By the love of her shining bright star
And given the gift of believing,
That heaven is never too FAR.
This one had me in tears....
~*~Leanne~*~
06-09-2005, 15:30
these are really sad
A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 years old son waiting for him at the door.
"Daddy, may I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.
"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?"
"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.
"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.
"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."
"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said,
"Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"
The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games."
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning.
How dare he ask such questions only to get some money. After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often.
The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.
"Are you asleep son?" he asked. "No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.
"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man.
"It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."
The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.
The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.
"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.
"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.
"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"
samantha nixon
06-09-2005, 16:51
ah thats so sweet but they are all really sad
CrazyLea
06-09-2005, 16:51
awwwww bless these are sad :( and sweet
Chloe-Elise
06-09-2005, 18:34
Awww these had me in tears they are so sweet and sad!
Emma-Lou
06-09-2005, 18:59
:crying: AWWthese are so sad and have a great message to them, they really make you think
A young man from a wealthy family was about to graduate from high school. It was the custom in that affluent neighborhood for the parents
to give the graduate an automobile. Bill and his father had spent months looking at cars, and the week before graduation they found the perfect car. Bill was certain that the car would be his on graduation night.
Imagine his disappointment when, on the eve of his graduation, Bill's father handed him a gift-wrapped Bible! Bill was so angry, he threw the Bible down and stormed out of the house. He and his father never saw each other again. It was the news of his father's death that brought Bill home again.
As he sat one night, going through his father's posessions that he was to inherit, he came across the bible his father had given him. He brushed away the dust and opened it to find a cashier's check, dated the day of his graduation, in the exact amount of the car they had chosen.
The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg.
It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark.
Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city.
At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn't working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry - how would she react?
Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "I'm blind!", she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you're abandoning me."
Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He
promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it.
And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat.
Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, and his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.
On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure do envy you."
Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?"
The driver responded, "It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are."
Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, "What do you mean?"
The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady."
Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there is darkness.
He was driving home one evening, on a two lane country road. Work in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac. But he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter raging on, the chill had finally hit home. It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfil.
But he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and he knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, which came in handy. It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on.
You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her. Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so.
Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe, he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan".
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.
Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past... He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Bryan added "...and think of me". He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.
A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor - it didn't ring much. Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude.
The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan. After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on the napkin under which were 4 more $100 bills. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said:
"You don't owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you".
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's gonna be all right; I love you, Bryan."
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 boy's 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?
Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love.
The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.
To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.
His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!"
All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.
Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear- Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.
At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.
He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.
Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.
She sits on a rock in the warm summer breeze
she stares at the wings lying there on her knees.
And dreams of a time where pain is no more,
and wishes that she was at Heaven's front door.
Where mommies don't yell, and daddies don't hit
for hunger and anger are her living hell.
Neglect and abuse are all that she knows.
She wipes up a tear and wiggles her toes.
"Will someone please help me?" her saddened
heart cries,
as she brushes a tear from her watering eyes.
She looks at the wings lying there on her lap
and wishes for peace, a long quiet nap.
To you, little child, I humbly pledge,
to help build a bridge and walk a fine edge.
To show up your plight and give you a hand,
and help make you safe as God really planned.
Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone... Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often? When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror.
The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little anxious to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow. Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.
"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."
"Hello, Jack." No smile.
"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."
"Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good.
"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit - just this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct."
Ouch! This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics. "What'd you clock me at?"
"Seventy-one. Would you sit back in your car, please?"
"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.
"Please, Jack, in the car."
Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door.
Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left.
There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a bare two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.
"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Bob returned to his car without a word.
Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket.
Jack began to read:
"Dear Jack,
Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it - a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of them.
I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now... Pray for me. And be careful. My son is all I have left.
Bob"
Jack twisted around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he, too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.
Life is precious. Handle with care.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love yous".. more "I'm sorrys"... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.
When I was a kid, a father was like the light in a refrigerator. Every house had one, but nobody knew what either of them did once the door was shut.
My dad left the house every morning and always seemed glad to see everyone at night.
He opened the jar of pickles when nobody else could.
He was the only one in the house who wasn't afraid to go to the basement by himself.
He cut himself shaving, but no one kissed it or got excited about it.
It was understood whenever it rained, he got the car and brought it around to the door.
When anyone was sick, he got the prescription filled.
He set mousetraps, cut back the roses to the thorns, wouldn't clip you when you came to the front door.
When I got a bike, he ran alongside me for at least a thousand miles until I got the hang of it.
I was afraid of everyone else's father, but not my own.
Once I made him tea. It was only sugar water, but he sat on a small chair and said it was delicious.
Whenever I played house, the mother doll had a lot to do. I never knew what to do with the daddy doll, so I had him say, "I'm going off to work now," and threw him under the bed.
When I was nine years old, my father didn't get up one morning and go to work.
He went to the hospital and died the next day.
I went to my room and felt under my bed for the daddy doll. When I found him, I dusted him off and put him on my bed.
He never did anything - I didn't know his leaving would hurt so much. I still don't know why.
Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away.
Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part, I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too, at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away, is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long, long time she needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her, but I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please, is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these big words, I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator, I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I'll give them a call.
There was a skinny young boy who loved football with all his heart. Practice after practice, he eagerly gave everything he had. But being half the size of the boys, he got absolutely nowhere. At all the games this hopeful athlete sat on the bench and hardly ever played. This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very special relationship. Even though the son was always on the bench, his father was always in the stands cheering.
He never missed a game. This young man was still the smallest of the
class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn't want to. But the young man loved football and decided to hang in there. He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he'd get to play when he became a senior. All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game, but remained a bench warmer all four years.
His faithful father was always in the stands, always with words of
encouragement for him. When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a "walk-in." Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did. The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always puts his heart and soul into every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed.
The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent reason tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in a game. It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big playoff game, the coach met him with a telegram. The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent.
Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, "My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?"
The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, "Take the
rest of the week off, son. And don't even plan to come back to the game on Saturday."
Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter,
when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful team mate back so soon.
"Coach, please let me play. I've just got to play today," said the young
man.
The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his
worst player in this close playoff game. But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in. "All right," he said. "You can go in."
Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked, and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His team mates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you never heard.
Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that this young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone. The coach came to him and said, "Kid, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"
He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Well, you knew my Dad died, but did you know that he was blind?" The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!
CrazyLea
06-09-2005, 23:38
Jenny was so happy about the house they had found. For once in her
life 'twas on the right side of town. She unpacked her things with such
great ease. As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze. How
wonderful it was to have her own room. School would be starting; she'd
have friends over soon. There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she
was so happy, it's just the way she wanted her life to be.
***
On the first day of school, everything went great. She made new friends
and even got a date! She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to
be, because I just got a date with the star of the team!" To be known in
this school you had to have clout, and dating this guy would sure help
her out. There was only one problem stopping her fate. Her parents had
said she was too young to date. "Well I just won't tell them the entire
truth. They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."
***
Excited, she got ready for the big event but as she rushed around like
she had no sense, she began to feel guilty about all the lies, but what's
a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride? Well the pizza was good, and the
party was great, but the moonlight ride would have to wait. For Dan was
half drunk by this time. But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.
Then the room filled with smoked and Dan took a puff. Jenny couldn't
believe he was smoking that stuff. Now Dan was ready to ride to the
point but only after he'd smoked another joint. They jumped in the car
for the moonlight ride, not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last, And Dan started trying to
make a pass. A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all (and by a pass,
I don't mean playing football.) "Perhaps my parents were right...maybe
I am too young. Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb." With all of
her might, she pushed Dan away: "Please take me home, I don't want to
stay." Dan cranked up the engine and floored the gas. In a matter of
seconds they were going too fast. As Dan drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger. She begged and pleaded for him
to slow down, but he just got faster as they neared the town. "Just
let me get home! I'll confess that I lied. I really went out for
a moonlight ride." Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"
***
She doesn't remember the force of impact. Just that everything all of
a sudden went black. She felt someone remove her from the twisted
rubble, And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble! Voices
she heard...a few words at best. But she knew there were two cars
involved in the wreck. Then wondered to herself if Dan was all right,
and if the people in the other car was alive. She awoke in the hospital to
faces so sad. "You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad." These
voices echoed inside her head, as they gently told her that Dan was
dead. They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do. But it looks as if
we'll lose you too." "But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.
"We're sorry, Jenny, they also died." Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me
for what I've done I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim, and wish I could
return their families to them." "Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied, and
that it's my fault so many have died. Oh, nurse, won't you please tell
them that for me?" The nurse just stood there-she never agreed.
But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes.
And a few moments later Jenny died.
***
A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best To bid that girl
her one last request?" She looked at the man with eyes so sad. "Because
the people in the other car were her mom and dad." This story is sad
and unpleasant but true, So young people take heed,
it could have been you.
:(
RealityGap
06-09-2005, 23:41
right quit it - I have been sobbing all day! LOL these are so touching!!
CrazyLea
06-09-2005, 23:44
Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away.
Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part, I don't know where to look.
I think my daddy needs her too, at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don't know why.
Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away, is it across the sea?
She's been gone a long, long time she needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her, but I simply don't know how.
Help me find the number please, is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these big words, I am only seven.
I'm sorry operator, I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?
If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.
I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I'll give them a call.
Awww :( :crying:
Jenny was so happy about the house they had found. For once in her
life 'twas on the right side of town. She unpacked her things with such
great ease. As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze. How
wonderful it was to have her own room. School would be starting; she'd
have friends over soon. There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she
was so happy, it's just the way she wanted her life to be.
***
On the first day of school, everything went great. She made new friends
and even got a date! She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to
be, because I just got a date with the star of the team!" To be known in
this school you had to have clout, and dating this guy would sure help
her out. There was only one problem stopping her fate. Her parents had
said she was too young to date. "Well I just won't tell them the entire
truth. They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."
***
Excited, she got ready for the big event but as she rushed around like
she had no sense, she began to feel guilty about all the lies, but what's
a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride? Well the pizza was good, and the
party was great, but the moonlight ride would have to wait. For Dan was
half drunk by this time. But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.
Then the room filled with smoked and Dan took a puff. Jenny couldn't
believe he was smoking that stuff. Now Dan was ready to ride to the
point but only after he'd smoked another joint. They jumped in the car
for the moonlight ride, not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last, And Dan started trying to
make a pass. A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all (and by a pass,
I don't mean playing football.) "Perhaps my parents were right...maybe
I am too young. Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb." With all of
her might, she pushed Dan away: "Please take me home, I don't want to
stay." Dan cranked up the engine and floored the gas. In a matter of
seconds they were going too fast. As Dan drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger. She begged and pleaded for him
to slow down, but he just got faster as they neared the town. "Just
let me get home! I'll confess that I lied. I really went out for
a moonlight ride." Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"
***
She doesn't remember the force of impact. Just that everything all of
a sudden went black. She felt someone remove her from the twisted
rubble, And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble! Voices
she heard...a few words at best. But she knew there were two cars
involved in the wreck. Then wondered to herself if Dan was all right,
and if the people in the other car was alive. She awoke in the hospital to
faces so sad. "You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad." These
voices echoed inside her head, as they gently told her that Dan was
dead. They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do. But it looks as if
we'll lose you too." "But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.
"We're sorry, Jenny, they also died." Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me
for what I've done I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim, and wish I could
return their families to them." "Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied, and
that it's my fault so many have died. Oh, nurse, won't you please tell
them that for me?" The nurse just stood there-she never agreed.
But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes.
And a few moments later Jenny died.
***
A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best To bid that girl
her one last request?" She looked at the man with eyes so sad. "Because
the people in the other car were her mom and dad." This story is sad
and unpleasant but true, So young people take heed,
it could have been you.
:(
awww thats sad :crying:
Chloe O'brien
07-09-2005, 09:43
That's it no more I becoming suicidal :( :crying:
Love Chloe xx
I got flowers today.
It wasn’t my birthday
or any special day.
We had our first argument last night,
and he said a lot of cruel things
that really hurt me.
I know he is sorry
and didn’t mean the things he said
because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today.
It wasn’t our anniversary
or any other special day.
Last night, he threw me into a wall
and started to choke me.
It seemed like a nightmare.
I couldn’t believe it was real.
I know he must be sorry
because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today,
and it wasn’t Mother’s Day
or any other special day.
Last night, he beat me up again.
If I leave him, what will I do?
How will I take care of my kids?
What about money?
I’m afraid of him and scared to leave.
But I know he must be sorry
because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today.
Today was a very special day.
It was the day of my funeral.
Last night, he finally killed me.
If only I had gathered enough courage
and strength to leave him,
I would not have gotten flowers today.
I need to read these stories later..
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table.
But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor." So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.
There Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.
Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. he asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up."
The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day the building blocks are being laid for the child's future.
ok your making me cry again
Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out-patients at the clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face ... lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."
He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. No one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face ... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me. "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."
I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.
When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him for a few minutes. It didn't take long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.
He didn't tell it by way of complaint. In fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.
At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast. But just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair."
He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind."
I told him he was welcome to come again.
On his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
During the years he came to stay overnight with us, there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery ... fish and oysters packed in a box with fresh young spinach or kale ... every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"
Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. I know our family will always be grateful to have known him. From him, we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all ... a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket.
I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!" My friend changed my mind.
"I ran short of pots," she explained," and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, until I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."
All this happened long ago ... and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.
Faraway sirens signal the start
of questions 'til midnight, affairs of the heart.
What was the reason, what did he say?
What did you do to make him act that way?
How can I tell them I simply forgot
to wash his best shirt, or his tea was too hot.
When I can't understand, do I tell them the truth?
He accused me of sleeping around with no proof.
They ask, was he drinking, did he get drunk tonight,
does he take any drugs and how long was the fight?
I don't know if I answer, I don't care anymore.
I can see the red mark where my head hit the door.
I no longer feel the hot tears on my face,
My heart is consumed with fear and disgrace.
Again I say that this is the last time.
But there's blood on the sofa and I know that it's mine.
eastenderfan_91
07-09-2005, 20:59
these stories touch your heart and you do feel lucky
Snowflakes softly falling
Upon your window they play
Your blankets snug around you,
Into sleep you drift away.
I bend to gently kiss you,
when I see that on the floor,
there's a letter, neatly written
I wonder who it's for.
I quietly unfold it
making sure you're still asleep,
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep.
It started just as always
with the toys seen on TV,
A new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me.
But as my eyes read on
I could see that deep inside
there were many things you wished for
that your loving heart would hide.
You asked if your friend Molly
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her
and it makes you very sad.
Then you asked dear Santa
if the neighbors down the street
Could find a job, that he might have
some food, and clothes, and heat.
You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away,
"Dear Santa, send them just one thing,
a place where they can stay."
"And Santa, those four cookies
that I left you for a treat,
Could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat."
"Do you know that little bear I have
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you
to take to Africa this year".
"And as you fly your reindeer
on this night of Jesus' birth,
Could your magic bring to everyone
goodwill and peace on earth".
"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be,
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus
in the manger by our tree."
I pulled the letter close to me'
I felt it melt my heart.
Those tiny hands had written
what no other could impart.
"And a little child shall lead them,"
was whispered in my ear
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was here.
.:SpIcYsPy:.
07-09-2005, 21:49
This one had me in tears....
I had 3 tears for the lil fire fighter!!
.:SpIcYsPy:.
07-09-2005, 21:52
the $20 question is well sad!! But I didn't cry.. I find it extreamly ahrd to cry at reading things.. Bless him!!
.:SpIcYsPy:.
07-09-2005, 21:58
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 boy's 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?
I don't get it.. why did he ask her if she was God's Wife?
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