tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411764135574371862024-03-05T14:08:56.251-08:00Stories and Tales to have a Positive Impact..." Upbuilder of the Home---Nourisher of the Community Spirit---Arts, Letters, and Science of the Common People. "Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.comBlogger326125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-60700193212014367572017-08-21T05:10:00.000-07:002017-08-21T05:10:27.804-07:00Life.....<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
LIFE....<br />LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered— how fleeting my life is.<br />Psalm 39:4 , NLT</div>
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Life is short no matter how long we live. If there is something important we want to do, we must not put it off for a better day.</div>
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Ask yourself, “If I had only six months to live, what would I do?” Tell someone that you love him or her? Deal with an undisciplined area in your life? Tell someone about Jesus? Because life is short, don’t neglect what is truly important.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-20559370619531827732014-11-03T03:02:00.001-08:002014-11-03T03:02:25.009-08:00Joan Jett live concert Green Bay Wi. 9-13-2014 Burkels one block over -...<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bJzOPOlPKs4" width="480"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-78634319626696287382014-11-03T02:55:00.001-08:002014-11-03T02:55:06.628-08:00Joan Jett Live at the Oregon State Fair August 30, 2014<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MO7tccHXay8" width="480"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-52676160885884936122014-07-10T11:29:00.001-07:002014-07-10T11:29:10.645-07:00Joan Jett And The Blackhearts ~ Behind The Music 2014 [WS] ....So, can w...<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/rN0-blc-azc" width="480"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-91608613568699704722014-04-12T14:56:00.001-07:002014-04-12T14:56:43.514-07:00Glen Campbell Farewell<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/S6J99mWFqMU" width="459"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-78376973691413854672014-02-27T08:51:00.000-08:002014-02-27T08:51:50.813-08:00time management<br /><u></u><u></u><br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">TIME MANAGEMENT<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">One day, an expert in time management was speaking to a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an illustration those students will never forget. As he stood in front of the group of high-powered overachiever s he said, "Okay, time for a quiz" and he pulled out a one-gallon, wide-mouth mason jar and set it on the table in front of him.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">He also produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar. When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, "Is this jar full?"<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Everyone in the class yelled, "Yes." The time management expert replied, "Really?" He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. He dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks. He then asked the group once more, "Is the jar full?"<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">By this time the class was on to him. "Probably not," one of them answered. "Good!" he replied. He reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in the jar and it went into all of the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question, "Is this jar full?"<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">"No!" the class shouted. Once again he said, "Good." Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then he looked at the class and asked, "What is the point of this illustration?"<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try really hard you can always fit some more things in it!" "No," the speaker replied, "that's not the point.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">The truth this illustration teaches us is:<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">If you don't put the big rocks in first, you'll never get them in at all."<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">What are the 'big rocks' in your life, time with your loved ones, your faith, your education, your dreams, a worthy cause, teaching or mentoring others? Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in first or you'll never get them in at all.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">So, tonight, or in the morning, when you are reflecting on this short story, ask yourself this question: What are the 'big rocks' in my life?<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Then, put those in your jar first.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><u></u> <u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">-- Author Unknown<u></u><u></u></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-88749443548037615962014-02-04T14:47:00.001-08:002014-02-04T14:47:33.498-08:00The Phone Call: #InWithTheNew RadioShack Commercial (official version)<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/oUwwZHdx6SU" width="480"></iframe><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-19023705383849239852014-01-07T15:24:00.002-08:002014-01-07T15:24:49.637-08:00resolutions and prayer for 2014<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">MY 10 RESOLUTIONS FOR 2014</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">This coming year, I have decided that with God's help, I shall:-</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up complaining . . . focus on gratitude.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up harsh judgments . . . think kind thoughts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up worry . . . trust divine providence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up discouragement . . . be full of hope.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up bitterness . . . turn to forgiveness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up hatred . . . return good for evil.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up anger . . . practice patience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up pettiness . . . put on maturity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up gloom. . . enjoy the beauty that is around me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Give up gossiping . . . control my tongue.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">-- Author Unknown </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">My prayer for you in 2014 is that you will:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Accept the shortcomings in others and realize it is not your responsibility to correct them, it is God’s to perfect them</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Understand your own shortcomings and allow God to perfect them, in His own time</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Reach out to help those whom you can help</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Accept help from those who wish to help you</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Understand that God loves you</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> * Understand that God wants you to love others</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">May you have bountiful blessings in 2014</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-27670645306059631162013-12-31T12:42:00.001-08:002013-12-31T12:42:09.241-08:00Carlene Carter - Troublesome Waters (Live at Farm Aid 2013)<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/8Rr6M4Y4foQ" width="480"></iframe><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-12444125623782839022013-12-29T08:32:00.000-08:002013-12-29T08:32:49.036-08:00questions for the new year...Even those most faithful to God occasionally need to pause and think about the direction of their lives. It's so easy to bump along from one busy week to another without ever stopping to ponder where we're going and where we should be going.<br />
The beginning of a new year is an ideal time to stop, look up, and get our bearings. To that end, here are some questions to ask prayerfully in the presence of God.<br />
1. What's one thing you could do this year to increase your enjoyment of God?<br /><br /> 2. What's the most humanly impossible thing you will ask God to do this year?<br /><br /> 3. What's the single most important thing you could do to improve the quality of your family life this year?<br /><br /> 4. In which spiritual discipline do you most want to make progress this year, and what will you do about it?<br /><br /> 5. What is the single biggest time-waster in your life, and what will you do about it this year?<br /><br /> 6. What is the most helpful new way you could strengthen your church?<br /><br /> 7. For whose salvation will you pray most fervently this year?<br /><br /> 8. What's the most important way you will, by God's grace, try to make this year different from last year?<br /><br /> 9. What one thing could you do to improve your prayer life this year?<br /><br /> 10. What single thing that you plan to do this year will matter most in 10 years? In eternity?<br /> <br />
In addition to these 10 questions, here are 21 more to help you "Consider your ways." Think on the entire list at one sitting, or answer one question each day for a month.<br />
11. What's the most important decision you need to make this year?<br /><br /> 12. What area of your life most needs simplifying, and what's one way you could simplify in that area?<br /><br /> 13. What's the most important need you feel burdened to meet this year?<br /><br /> 14. What habit would you most like to establish this year?<br /><br /> 15. Who is the person you most want to encourage this year?<br /><br /> 16. What is your most important financial goal this year, and what is the most important step you can take toward achieving it?<br /><br /> 17. What's the single most important thing you could do to improve the quality of your work life this year?<br /><br /> 18. What's one new way you could be a blessing to your pastor (or to another who ministers to you) this year?<br /><br /> 19. What's one thing you could do this year to enrich the spiritual legacy you will leave to your children and grandchildren?<br /><br /> 20. What book, in addition to the Bible, do you most want to read this year?<br /><br /> 21. What one thing do you most regret about last year, and what will you do about it this year?<br /><br /> 22. What single blessing from God do you want to seek most earnestly this year?<br /><br /> 23. In what area of your life do you most need growth, and what will you do about it this year?<br /><br /> 24. What's the most important trip you want to take this year?<br /><br /> 25. What skill do you most want to learn or improve this year?<br /><br /> 26. To what need or ministry will you try to give an unprecedented amount this year?<br /><br /> 27. What's the single most important thing you could do to improve the quality of your commute this year?<br /><br /> 28. What one biblical doctrine do you most want to understand better this year, and what will you do about it?<br /><br /> 29. If those who know you best gave you one piece of advice, what would they say? Would they be right? What will you do about it?<br /><br /> 30. What's the most important new item you want to buy this year?<br /><br /> 31. In what area of your life do you most need change, and what will you do about it this year?<br /> <br />
The value of many of these questions is not in their profundity, but in the simple fact that they bring an issue or commitment into focus. For example, just by articulating which person you most want to encourage this year is more likely to help you remember to encourage that person than if you hadn't considered the question.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-50066888842748918242013-12-12T13:34:00.000-08:002013-12-12T13:34:08.741-08:00the difference between strength and courage...<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1601">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1600" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN STRENGTH AND COURAGE</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1559">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1558" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to be firm.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1597">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1596" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to be gentle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1561">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1560" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to stand guard.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1706">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1705" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to let down your guard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1708">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to conquer</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to surrender.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1711">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to be certain.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1712">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to have doubt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1714">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to fit in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to stand out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to feel a friend's pain.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1718" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to feel your own pain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1722">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1721" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to hide feelings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to show them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1744">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to endure abuse.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1742" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to stop it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1737">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1740" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to stand alone.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1739">
<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1738" style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to lean on another.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to love.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to be loved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes strength to survive.</span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It takes courage to live.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">"....as
I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you nor
forsake you. Be strong and of good courage...." (Joshua 1:5b-6a)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="yiv9835751035MsoNormal" id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386883509831_1734">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">-- Author Unknown</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-87889589351592688722013-12-10T11:14:00.000-08:002013-12-10T11:14:17.998-08:00parable of the pencil....<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">PARABLE OF THE PENCIL</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">The
Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the
box. There are 5 things you need to know, he told the pencil, before I
send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and
you will become the best pencil you can be. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone's hand.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'll need it to become a better pencil.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Three: You will be able to correct mistakes you will make.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Four: The most important part of you will always be what's inside.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Now
replacing the place of the pencil with you; always remember them and
never forget, and you will become the best person you can be. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">One:
You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow
yourself to be held in God's hand. And allow other human beings to
access you for the many gifts you possess. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Two:
You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going
through various problems, but you'll need it to become a stronger
person. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Three: You will be able to correct mistakes you might make or grow through them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Four: The most important part of you will always be what's on the inside. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">And
Five: On every surface you walk, you must leave your mark. No matter
what the situation, you must continue to serve God in everything. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">By
understanding and remembering, let us proceed with our life on this
earth having a meaningful purpose in our heart and a relationship with
God daily. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">-- Author Unknown</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-5518060219356756902013-11-29T05:45:00.000-08:002013-11-29T05:45:43.815-08:00Be Thankful....BE THANKFUL...<br />
<br />
Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.<br />
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?<br />
<br />
Be thankful when you don't know something,<br />
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.<br />
<br />
Be thankful for the difficult times.<br />
During those times you grow.<br />
<br />
Be thankful for your limitations,<br />
because they give you opportunities for improvement.<br />
<br />
Be thankful for each new challenge,<br />
because it will build your strength and character.<br />
<br />
Be thankful for your mistakes.<br />
They will teach you valuable lessons.<br />
<br />
Be thankful when you're tired and weary,<br />
because it means you've made a difference.<br />
<br />
It's easy to be thankful for the good things. A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also thankful for the setbacks.<br />
<br />
Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive. Find a way to be thankful for your troubles, and they can become your blessings.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-9186650741798249162013-04-14T06:31:00.000-07:002013-04-14T06:31:58.721-07:00this old tentWhen I looked upon the days gone past,<br />
I’d thought this tent was built to last.<br />
For I’d stood it on some rocky ground<br />
Where stormy winds couldn’t beat it down. <br />
<br />
And with my pride and my own hand,<br />
I put my tent on shifting sand<br />
Where pegs pulled loose and my tent did shake,<br />
But I was young and I could take<br />
The unstable world that I was in<br />
I’d just up and move again.<br />
<br />
So for many years I went this route,<br />
Shifting this old tent about. <br />
Till one cold day when my mind grew clear,<br />
This tent had an end and it might draw near.<br />
<br />
So with much fear (such a heavy load)<br />
I looked for the One who had made this abode.<br />
Yes, the Tentmaker, He’d surely know<br />
Where one such rotting tent should go<br />
To have this canvas revitalized,<br />
To have these poles and pegs re‐sized.<br />
<br />
I went to Him on bended knees<br />
Begging Him, “Oh tentmaker please! <br />
Restore this tent I thought would last,<br />
This canvas house that went so fast.”<br />
<br />
He looked at me through loving eyes<br />
And merely pointed to the skies. <br />
“Please do not grieve over some old tent,<br />
Old canvas walls that have been spent. <br />
For this mansion that’s been built by Me<br />
Will last you for eternity.”Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-14080456091741050342013-03-06T08:37:00.000-08:002013-03-06T08:37:54.696-08:00taking time.....Therefore , why not slow down and practice patience, <br />as well as, take time to enjoy the simple things in life like just::<br /><br /> TAKING TIME<br /> Take time to think...It is the source of <br /> power.<br /><br /> Take time to play...It is the secret of <br /> perpetual youth.<br /><br /> Take time to read...It is the fountain of <br /> wisdom.<br /><br /> Take time to pray...It is the greatest power <br /> on Earth.<br /><br /> Take time to love and be loved...It is a God-<br /> given privilege.<br /><br /> Take time to be friendly...It is the road to <br /> happiness.<br /><br /> Take time to laugh...It is the music of the <br /> soul.<br /><br /> Take time to give...It is too short a day to be<br /> selfish.<br /><br /> Take time to work...It is the price of <br /> success.<br /><br /> Take time to do charity...It is the key to <br /> Heaven.<br /> <wbr></wbr> Author UnknownAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-61564724191473884742012-12-11T02:32:00.000-08:002012-12-11T02:32:54.605-08:00why God gave us friends??<span style="color: #550055;">WHY GOD GAVE US FRIENDS<br />
<br />
GOD knew that everyone needs<br />
<br />
companionship and cheer,<br />
<br />
He knew that people need someone<br />
<br />
whose thoughts are always near.<br />
<br />
He knew they need someone kind<br />
<br />
to lend a helping hand.<br />
<br />
Someone to gladly take the time<br />
<br />
to care and understand.<br />
<br />
GOD knew that we all need someone<br />
<br />
to share each happy day,<br />
<br />
to be a source of courage<br />
<br />
when troubles come our way.<br />
<br />
Someone to be true to us,<br />
<br />
whether near or far apart.<br />
<br />
Someone whose love we'll always<br />
<br />
hold and treasure in our hearts.<br />
<br />
That's Why GOD Gave Us Friends<br />
<br />
-- Author Unknown<br />
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-58864787490863921332012-12-11T02:27:00.000-08:002012-12-11T02:27:49.228-08:00who stared christmas??<span style="color: #550055;">WHO STARTED CHRISTMAS?<br />
<br />
This morning I heard a story on the radio of a woman who was out Christmas<br />
shopping with her two children. After many hours of looking at row after row<br />
of toys and everything else imaginable. And after hours of hearing both her<br />
children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally<br />
made it to the elevator with her two kids.<br />
<br />
She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of<br />
the year. Overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming,<br />
taste all the holiday food and treats, getting that perfect gift for every<br />
single person on our shopping list, making sure we don't forget anyone on<br />
our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who<br />
sent us a card.<br />
<br />
Finally the elevator doors opened and there was already a crowd in the car.<br />
She pushed her way into the car and dragged her two kids in with her and all<br />
the bags of stuff. When the doors closed she couldn't take it anymore and<br />
stated, "Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung<br />
up and shot."<br />
<br />
From the back of the car everyone heard a quiet calm voice respond, "Don't<br />
worry we already crucified him." For the rest of the trip down the elevator<br />
it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.<br />
<br />
Don't forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas<br />
thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all did it,<br />
just think of how different this whole world would be.<br />
<br />
-- Author Unknown</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-53629841175596215932012-11-26T14:54:00.000-08:002012-11-26T14:54:53.195-08:00twenty truths to remember<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">TWENTY TRUTHS TO REMEMBER</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">1. Faith is the ability to not panic.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">2. If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray,
don't worry.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">3. As a child of God, prayer is kind of like
calling home every day.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">4. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be
bent out of shape.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">5. When we get tangled up in our problems, be
still. God wants us to be still so He can untangle the knot.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">6. Do the math. Count your blessings.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">7. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious
nuts.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">8. Dear God: I have a problem. It's
me.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">9. Silence is often misinterpreted, but never
misquoted.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">10. Laugh every day, it's like inner
jogging.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">11. The most important things in your home are the
people.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">12. Growing old is inevitable, growing up is
optional.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">13. There is no key to happiness. The door is
always open.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">14. A grudge is a heavy thing to
carry.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">15. He who dies with the most toys is still
dead.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">16. We do not remember days, but moments. Life
moves too fast, so enjoy your precious moments.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">17. Nothing is real to you until you experience it,
otherwise it's just hearsay.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">18. It's all right to sit on your pity pot every
now and again. Just be sure to flush when you are done.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">19. Surviving and living your life successfully
requires courage. The goals and dreams you're seeking require courage and
risk-taking. Learn from the turtle -- it only makes progress when it sticks out
its neck.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">20. Be more concerned with your character than your
reputation. Your character is what you really are while your reputation is
merely what others think you are.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">-- Author Unknown</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-45401897880217199172012-11-21T15:33:00.000-08:002012-11-21T15:33:54.423-08:00the blessing of thorns<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">THE BLESSING OF THORNS</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she
pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then
in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole
that from her.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">During this Thanksgiving week she would have
delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough, her
husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit
she coveted, called saying she could not come for the holiday.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Then Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting
her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize
with others who suffer. She has no idea what I'm feeling, thought Sandra
with a shudder.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Thanksgiving? Thankful for what? She wondered. For
a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For
an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The shop clerk's
approach startled her.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"I....I need an arrangement," stammered
Sandra.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"For Thanksgiving? Do you want beautiful but
ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call
the Thanksgiving "Special?" asked the shop clerk. "I'm convinced that flowers
tell stories," she continued. "Are you looking for something that conveys
'gratitude' this thanksgiving?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last
five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised
when the shop clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Just then the shop door's small bell rang, and the
shop clerk said, "Hi, Barbara...let me get your order." She politely excused
herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an
arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of
the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no flowers.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Want this in a box?" asked the clerk.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Sandra watched for the customer's response. Was
this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers! She waited for laughter,
but neither woman laughed.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Yes, please," Barbara, replied with an
appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I
wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over
again," she said as she gently tapped her chest. And she left with her
order.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Uh," stammered Sandra, "that lady just left with,
uh....she just left with no flowers!</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Right, said the clerk, "I cut off the flowers.
That's the Special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Oh, come on, you can't tell me someone is willing
to pay for that!" exclaimed Sandra.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling
much like you feel today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little
to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was
failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"That same year I had lost my husband," continued
the clerk, "and for the first time in my life, had just spent the holidays
alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to
allow any travel."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"So what did you do?" asked Sandra.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the
clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for the good things in my life and never
questioned the good things that happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I
ever ask questions! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important.
I have always enjoyed the 'flowers' of life, but it took thorns to show me the
beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when
we're afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort
others."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about
the very thing her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is I don't
want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Just then someone else walked in the shop. "Hey,
Phil!" shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving
Special....12 thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him
a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra
incredulously. "Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like
that?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"No...I'm glad you asked," Phil replied. "Four
years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real
mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after
problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase
of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from "thorny" times, and that
was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided
to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks for what that problem
taught us."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I
highly recommend the Special!"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns
in my life." Sandra said. "It's all too...fresh."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience
has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's
providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a
crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the
thorns."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first
time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take those
twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll
have them ready in a minute."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Thank you. What do I owe you?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to
heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." The clerk smiled
and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but
maybe you would like to read it first."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">It read: "My God, I have never thanked You for my
thorns. I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my
thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns.
Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that,
through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more
brilliant."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Praise Him for your roses; thank him for your
thorns!</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">-- Nancy Leigh DeMoss</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-23573507503490157112012-11-17T01:46:00.000-08:002012-11-17T01:46:09.121-08:00the cab ride.............THE CAB RIDE<br /><br />Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was
a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't
realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night
shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat
behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I
encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh
and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one
August night.<br /><br />I responded to a call from a small brick fourplex
in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some
partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker
heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of
town. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a
single light in a ground floor window.<br /><br />Under these circumstances,
many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive
away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis
as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of
danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who
needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and
knocked.<br /><br />"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice. I
could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause,
the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was
wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like
somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.
The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the
furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no
knick-knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.<br /><br />"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.<br /><br />I
took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She
took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me
for my kindness.<br /><br />"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."<br /><br />"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.<br /><br />When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"<br /><br />"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.<br /><br />"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".<br /><br />I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.<br /><br />"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."<br /><br />I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.<br /><br />"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.<br /><br />For
the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the
building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove
through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they
were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.<br /><br />As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."<br /><br />We
drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low
building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed
under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled
up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must
have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase
to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.<br /><br />"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.<br /><br />"Nothing," I said.<br /><br />"You have to make a living," she answered.<br /><br />"There are other passengers," I responded.<br /><br />Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.<br /><br />"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."<br /><br />I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.<br /><br />I
didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost
in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that
woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his
shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then
driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done very many
more important things in my life.<br /><br />We're conditioned to think
that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often
catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small
ones.<br /><br />-- Author UnknownAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-85846806120666257482012-09-21T15:34:00.004-07:002012-09-21T15:36:48.979-07:00unemployment by abbott and costello from uncle charley<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>OKAY....LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT</i></span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"> <a href="http://www.blogster.com/unc-charlie/photo/post-photos/mexican-hayride-bud-abbott-lou-costello-1948.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://www.blogster.com/media/albums/users/u/n/c/unc-charlie/post-photos/.view/mexican-hayride-bud-abbott-lou-costello-1948.jpg" /></a></span></b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Hey….Abbott! How many folks don’t have jobs now?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Good question. Terrible times. It's 8%.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: That many people are out of work?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: No, that's 16%.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: You just said 8%.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: 8% Unemployed.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Right 8% out of work.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: No, that's 16%.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Okay, so it's 16% unemployed.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: No, that's 8% .</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE! Is it 8% or 16%?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: 8% are unemployed. 16% are out of work.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: IF you are out of work....you are unemployed? </b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: No, you can't count the "Out of Work" as the unemployed. You have to look for work to be unemployed.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: <i>BUT THEY ARE OUT OF WORK!!!</i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: No, you miss my point.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: What point?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Someone who doesn't look for work, can't be counted with those who look for work. It wouldn't be fair.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: To whom?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: The unemployed.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: But they are ALL out of work! </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT:
No, the unemployed are actively looking for work. Those who are out
of work stopped looking. They gave up. And, if you give up, you are no
longer in the ranks of the unemployed.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: So if you're off the unemployment roles, that would count as less unemployment?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Unemployment would go down. Absolutely!</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: The unemployment just goes down because you don't look for work?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT:
Absolutely it goes down. That's how you get to 8%. Otherwise it would
be 16%. You don't want to read about 16% unemployment, do ya?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Crap no! </b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Absolutely.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Wait....I got a question for you. That means there are two ways to bring down the unemployment number?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Two ways is correct.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: Unemployment can go down if someone gets a job?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Correct.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: And unemployment can also go down if you stop looking for a job?</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Bingo! </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: So there are two ways to bring unemployment down, and the easier of the two is to just stop looking for work.</b><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Now you're thinking like a Washington economist.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>COSTELLO: <i>I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I JUST SAID!!!!!</i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>ABBOTT: Now you're thinking like a politician.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b> <span style="color: #f7fbba;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="" src="http://www.blogster.com/media/albums/users/u/n/c/unc-charlie/post-photos/.preview/090121-great-depression-vmed-12p-widec.jpg" /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-10520744314653336262012-09-21T03:58:00.002-07:002012-09-21T03:58:59.375-07:00I asked God.......<br />I ASKED GOD <br /><br /><br /><br />I asked for a flower, <br /><br /><br /><br />He gave me a garden. <br /><br /><br /><br />I asked for a tree, <br /><br /><br /><br />He gave me a forest. <br /><br /><br /><br />I asked for a river, <br /><br /><br />
<br />He gave me an ocean. <br /><br /><br /><br />I asked for a friend, <br /><br /><br /><br />He gave me "YOU." Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-35702971666987845262012-09-21T03:53:00.000-07:002012-09-21T03:53:39.738-07:00footprints...new versionFOOTPRINTS...A New Version <br />
<br /><br /><br />Imagine
you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of
the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely
varying the pace. <br /><br /><br /><br />But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns. <br /><br /><br /><br />For
much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your
footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling His
consistently. <br /><br /><br /><br />You and Jesus are walking as true friends! <br /><br /><br /><br />This
seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints
that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in
His steps. <br /><br /><br /><br />Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one. <br /><br /><br /><br />This
goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The
footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger. <br /><br /><br /><br />Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one. <br /><br /><br /><br />This
goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is
back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops.
Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints.<br /><br /><br /><br />You are amazed and shocked. <br /><br /><br /><br />Your dream ends. Now you pray: <br /><br /><br /><br />"Lord,
I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was a new
Christian; I was just learning. But You walked on through the storm and
helped me learn to walk with You." <br /><br /><br /><br />"That is correct." <br /><br /><br /><br />"And
when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually
learning to walk in Your steps, following You very closely." <br /><br /><br /><br />"Very good.. You have understood everything so far." <br /><br /><br /><br />When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way." <br />
<br /><br /><br />"Precisely." <br /><br /><br /><br />"So, Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first." <br /><br /><br /><br />There is a pause as the Lord answers, with a smile in His voice. <br />
<br /><br /><br />"You didn't know? It was then that we danced!" <br /><br /><br /><br />To
everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A
time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance. <br /><br /><br /><br />Ecclesiastes 3:1,4. <br /><br /><br /><br />Spread the Word and give thanks to the Lord for He is good!<br /><br /><br /><br />It's not WHAT you have in your life, but Whom you have in your life that counts... Think about that. <br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-79488937094018629482012-09-21T03:46:00.000-07:002012-09-21T03:46:44.126-07:00true story---who's packing your parachute...<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://overwegcompound.multiply.com/journal/item/124/true-story-who39s-packing-your-parachute............." rel="bookmark" target="_blank"><span><br /></span></a></td>
<td> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Charles Plumb was a US Navy jet pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, <br />
<br />his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and <br /><br />parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a <br /><br />communist Vietnamese prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on <br />
<br />lessons learned from that experience! <br /><br /><br /><br />One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting in a restaurant, a man at <br /><br />another table came up and said, "You're Plumb! You flew jet fighters in <br />
<br />Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!" <br /><br /><br /><br />"How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb. <br /><br /><br /><br />"I packed your parachute," the man replied. Plumb gasped in surprise and <br />
<br />gratitude. The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it worked!" Plumb <br /><br />assured him, "It sure did. If your chute hadn't worked, I wouldn't be here <br /><br />today." <br /><br /><br /><br />Plumb couldn't sleep that night, thinking about that man. Plumb says, I kept <br />
<br />wondering what he had looked like in a Navy uniform: a white hat; a bib in <br /><br />the back; and bell-bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I might have <br /><br />seen him and not even said 'Good morning, how are you?' or anything because, <br />
<br />you see, I was a fighter pilot and he was just a sailor." Plumb thought of <br /><br />the many hours the sailor had spent at a long wooden table in the bowels of <br /><br />the ship, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, <br />
<br />holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn't know. <br /><br /><br /><br />Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing your parachute?" Everyone has <br /><br />someone who provides what they need to make it through the day. He also <br />
<br />points out that he needed many kinds of parachutes when his plane was shot <br /><br />down over enemy territory -- he needed his physical parachute, his mental <br /><br />parachute, his emotional parachute, and his spiritual parachute. He called <br />
<br />on all these supports before reaching safety. <br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes in the daily challenges that life gives us, we miss what is really <br /><br />important. We may fail to say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate <br />
<br />someone on something wonderful that has happened to them, give a compliment, <br /><br />or just do some thing nice for no reason. As you go through this week, this <br /><br />month, this year, recognize people who pack your parachutes. <br />
<br /><br /><br />I am sending you this as my way of thanking you for your part in packing my <br /><br />parachute. And I hope you will send it on to those who have helped pack <br /><br />yours! <br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding jokes to us without writing <br />
<br />a word. Maybe this could explain it: When you are very busy, but still want <br /><br />to keep in touch, guess what you do -- you forward jokes. And to let you <br /><br />know that you are still remembered, you are still important, you are still <br />
<br />loved, you are still cared for, guess what you get? A forwarded joke. <br /><br /><br /><br />So my friend, next time when you get a joke, don't think that you've been <br /><br />sent just another forwarded joke, but that you've been thought of today and <br />
<br />your friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile, <br /><br />just helping you pack your parachute.....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288145131171226670noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-841176413557437186.post-60054850798428537152012-09-15T07:38:00.002-07:002012-09-15T07:38:48.979-07:00Pappy...........<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">PAPPY</span>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Pappy was a pleasant-looking old fellow. He had the
whitest hair which he kept neatly cut and combed. His eyes were blue, though
faded with age, and they seemed to emit a warmth from within. His face was quite
drawn, but when he smiled, even his wrinkles seemed to soften and smile with
him. He had a talent for whistling and did so happily each day as he dusted and
swept his pawnshop; even so, he had a secret sadness, but everyone who knew him
respected and adored him.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Most of Pappy's customers returned for their goods,
and he did not do much business, but he did not mind. To him, the shop was not a
livelihood as much as a welcome pastime.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">There was a room in the back of his shop where he
spent time tinkering with a menagerie of his own precious items. He referred to
this back room as "memory hall." In it were pocket watches, clocks, and electric
trains. There were miniature steam engines and antique toys made of wood, tin,
or cast iron, and there were various other obsolete trinkets as
well.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Spending time in memory hall delighted him as he
recalled many treasured moments from his past. He handled each item with care,
and sometimes he would close his eyes and pause to relive a sweet, simple
childhood memory.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">One day, Pappy was working to his heart's content
reassembling an old railroad lantern. As he worked, he whistled the melody
of a railroad tune and reminisced about his own past as a switchman. It was a
typical day at the shop. Outside, the sun illuminated the clear sky, and a
slight wind passed through the door. Whenever the weather was this nice,
Pappy kept the inner door open. He enjoyed the fresh air—almost as much as the
distinctive smell of antiques and old engine oil.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">As he was polishing his newly restored lantern, he
heard the tinkling of his bell on the shop door. The bell, which produced
a uniquely charming resound, had been in Pappy's family for over a hundred
years. He cherished it dearly and enjoyed sharing its song with all who came to
his shop. Although the bell hung on the inside of the main door, Pappy had
strung a wire to the screen door so that it would ring whether the inner door
was open or not. Prompted by the bell, he left memory hall to greet his
customer.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">At first, he did not see her. Her shiny, soft curls
barely topped the counter.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"And how can I help you, little lady?" Pappy's
voice was jovial.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Hello, sir." The little girl spoke almost in a
whisper. She was dainty. Bashful. Innocent. She looked at Pappy with her
big brown eyes, then slowly scanned the room in search of something
special. Shyly she told him, "I'd like to buy a present,
sir."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Well, let's see," Pappy said, "who is this present
for?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"My grandpa. It's for my grandpa. But I don't know
what to get."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Pappy began to make suggestions. "How about a
pocket watch? It's in good condition. I fixed it myself," he said
proudly.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The little girl didn't answer. She had walked to
the doorway and put her small hand on the door. She wiggled the door
gently to ring the bell. Pappy's face seemed to glow as he saw her smiling
with excitement.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"This is just right," the little girl
bubbled. "Momma says grandpa loves music."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Just then, Pappy's expression changed. Fearful of
breaking the little girl's heart, he told her, "I'm sorry, missy. That's not for
sale. Maybe your grandpa would like this little radio."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The little girl looked at the radio, lowered her
head, and sadly sighed, "No, I don't think so."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">In an effort to help her understand, Pappy told her
the story of how the bell had been in his family for so many years, and that was
why he didn't want to sell it.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The little girl looked up at him, and with a giant
tear in her eye, sweetly said, "I guess I understand. Thank you,
anyway."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Suddenly, Pappy thought of how the rest of the
family was all gone now, except for his estranged daughter whom he had not seen
in nearly a decade.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Why not, he thought. Why not pass it on to someone
who will share it with a loved one? God only knows where it will end up
anyway.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Wait...little lady." Pappy spoke just as the
little girl was going out the door--just as he was hearing his bell ring for the
last time. "I've decided to sell the bell. Here's a hanky. Blow your
nose."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The little girl began to clap her hands. "Oh, thank
you, sir. Grandpa will be so happy."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Okay, little lady. Okay." Pappy felt good about
helping the child; he knew, however, he would miss the bell. "You must promise
to take good care of the bell for your grandpa--and for me, too, okay?" He
carefully placed the bell in a brown paper bag.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Oh, I promise," said the little girl. Then, she
suddenly became very still and quiet. There was something she had forgotten to
ask. She looked up at Pappy with great concern, and again almost in a
whisper, asked, "How much will it cost?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"Well, let's see. How much have you got to spend?"
Pappy asked with a grin.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The child pulled a small coin purse from her pocket
then reached up and emptied two dollars and forty-seven cents onto the
counter.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">After briefly questioning his own sanity, Pappy
said, "Little lady, this is your lucky day. That bell costs exactly two dollars
and forty-seven cents."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Later that evening as Pappy prepared to close up
shop, he found himself thinking about his bell. Already he had decided not
to put up another one. He thought about the child and wondered if her
grandpa like his gift. Surely he would cherish anything from such a precious
grandchild.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">At that moment, just as he was going to turn off
the light in memory hall, Pappy thought he heard his bell. Again, he questioned
his sanity; he turned toward the door, and there stood the little girl.
She was ringing the bell and smiling sweetly.</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Pappy was puzzled as he strolled toward the small
child. "What's this, little lady? Have you changed your mind?"</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">"No," she grinned. "Momma says it's for
you."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Before Pappy had time to say another word, the
child's mother stepped into the doorway, and choking back a tear, she gently
said, "Hello, Dad."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The little girl tugged on her grandpa's
shirttail. "Here, Grandpa. Here's your hanky. Blow your
nose."</span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">-- Author Unknown </span></div>
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