TIME & LOVE

Photo: infinityiitd.com

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left, except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?"

Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh, Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder,

Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?" "It was Time," Knowledge answered. "Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"

Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is."

IN THE WELL WITH GOD

A young boy, walking through the field one day, preoccupied in thought, fell into a well. He was not hurt; however, his mother, on finding him, but unable to extricate him from the well at the moment, stood at the mouth of the well speaking comforting words to him. Sensing his mother’s anxiety, he said to her, “Mother, do not worry, I was talking to God when He and I fell into this well together.”

How comforting, when in the furnace of affliction, to know that He is there with us, too!

WHICH DOOR ARE YOU?

A daughter complained to her father about how hard things were for her. "As soon as I solve one problem," she said, "another one comes up. I'm tired of struggling."

Her father, a chef, took her to the kitchen where he filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire.

Soon the pots came to a boil. In one he placed carrots, in the second, eggs, and in the last, ground coffee beans. He let them sit and boil, without saying a word. The daughter impatiently waited, wondering what he was doing.

After awhile, he went over and turned off the burners. He fished out the carrots and placed them in a bowl. He pulled the eggs out and placed them a bowl. He poured the coffee into a bowl.

Turning to her he asked, "Darling, what do you see?" "Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

He brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. He then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, he asked her to sip the coffee.

She smiled, as she tasted its rich flavor. She asked, "What does it mean, Father?"

He explained that each of them had faced the same adversity, boiling water. But each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting, but after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg was fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. By being in the boiling water, they changed the water.

He asked his daughter, "When adversity knocks on your door, which are you?"

THE SOURCE OF WISDOM

A simple man met a very wise man.


“Can you tell me the source of your wisdom?” he asked.


“In two words,” the wise man replied, “good choices.”


“And what is the source of the good choices?”


“In one word, experience.”


“And to what do you attribute your experience?”


“In two words,” the wise man said, “bad choices.”

EXPLAIN GOD

Source Unknown

"One of God's main jobs is making people. He makes them to replace the ones that die so there will be enough people to take care of things on earth. He doesn't make grown-ups, just babies. I think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way He doesn't have to take up His valuable time teaching them to talk and walk. He can just leave that to mothers and fathers.

"God's second most important job is listening to prayers. An awful lot of this goes on, since some people, like preachers and things, pray at times besides bedtime. God doesn't have time to listen to the radio or TV because of this. Because He hears everything, there must be a terrible lot of noise in His ears, unless He has thought of a way to turn it off. "God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere which keeps Him pretty busy. So you shouldn't go wasting His time by going over your mom and dad's head asking for something they said you couldn't have.

"Atheists are people who don't believe in God. I don't think there are any in Chula Vista. At least there aren't any who come to our church.

"Jesus is God's Son. He used to do all the hard work like walking on water and performing miracles and trying to teach the people who didn't want to learn about God. They finally got tired of Him preaching to them and they crucified Him. But He was good and kind, like His Father and He told His Father that they didn't know what they were doing and to forgive them and God said O.K.

"His Dad (God) appreciated everything that He had done and all His hard work on earth so He told Him He didn't have to go out on the road anymore. He could stay in heaven. So He did. And now He helps His Dad out by listening to prayers and seeing things which are important for God to take care of and which ones He can take care of Himself without having to bother God. Like a secretary, only more important.

"You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to help you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the time.

"You should always go to Church on Sunday because it makes God happy, and if there's anybody you want to make happy, it's God. Don't skip church to do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach. This is wrong. And besides the sun doesn't come out at the beach until noon anyway.

"If you don't believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can't go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can. It is good to know He's around you when you're scared in the dark or when you can't swim and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids.

"But you shouldn't just always think of what God can do for you. I figure God put me here and He can take me back anytime He pleases.

“And that's why I believe in God.”

I don't know how far this is true, but the following piece was purportedly written by an eight-year-old student by the name of Danny Dutton of Chula Vista, California, for his third grade homework assignment.

WHEN EVERYTHING GOES WRONG

Image: Unknown

I was going through a divorce and had just moved with my daughters into an old, but affordable home. 'Please see us through this,' I prayed daily, wondering how I would manage alone. Then the furnace stopped running just as the temperature plummeted. It was unusually cold for Phoenix and the house was freezing.

I called the utility company and uncovered an unbelievable string of errors. First, I learned my account had never been closed because the gas bill had not been paid. But I had never gotten the statement because it had been sent to the wrong address. Then, when the company tried calling me, my answering machine (which I didn't know was broken) didn't record the message!

There was a strict policy that a canceled account would not be reinstated without first doing a check of the entire heating system. So, after all the upheaval and financial stress we had been through, I had to pack up my kids and go to a hotel for a couple of days until workmen inspected my furnace.

'God, aren't you watching out for us at all?' I fumed - until the day the workers came out to the house.

"Lady," one of the workmen said, after the inspection, "you and your family are lucky to be alive. We discovered a hole in the heat exchanger that would have leaked carbon monoxide directly into your home. Thank God your furnace didn't go on."

When you are tired and discouraged from fruitless effort,

GOD knows how hard you have tried.

When you've cried so long your heart is in anguish,

GOD has counted your tears.

If you feel that your life is on hold and time has passed you by,

GOD is waiting for you.

When nothing makes sense and you are confused or frustrated,

GOD has the answer.

If suddenly your outlook is brighter and you find traces of hope,

GOD has whispered to you.

When things are going well and you have much to be thankful for,

GOD has blessed you.

When something joyful happens and you are filled with awe,

GOD has smiled upon you.

Remember, that whatever you are feeling,

GOD knows!

PLEASE LET ME IN

Source: Unknown

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. People were filling the church to its fullest capacity! As they entered, each were given a bulletin filled with the announcements, topic of today’s sermon, what songs they would sing and who to pray for. At the end of the line stood an older man. His clothes were filthy and you could tell that he had not bathed in days. His face was covered in whiskers where he had not shaved for a very long time.

When he reached the usher, he removed his tattered old brown hat in respect. His hair was a long, dirty, tangled mess. He had no shoes on his feet, and wore only soiled, black socks.

The usher put his fingers to his nose and glared at the old man and said, “Ooh, I’m sorry sir, but I’m afraid we can’t let you in. You will distract the congregation and we don’t allow anyone to disrupt our service. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

The old man looked down at himself and with a puzzled look on his face, he placed his old brown hat back upon his head and turned to leave. He was sad as he loved to hear the choir sing praises to the Lord. He loved to watch the little children get up in front of the church to sing their little songs. He carried in his pocket a small worn out Bible and loved to see if the minister preached a passage from the Bible that the old man had underlined. He was respectful enough and didn’t want to cause any commotion, so he hung down his head and walked back down the steps of the big brick church.

He sat down on the brick wall near the edge of the church yard and strained to listen through closed doors and windows to the singing going on in the church. Oh how he wished he could be inside with all the others. A few minutes had passed by when all of a sudden a younger man came up behind him and sat down near him. He asked the old man what he was doing.

He answered, “I was going to go to church today, but they thought I was filthy and my clothes are old and worn, and they were afraid I would disrupt their service. Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is George.”

The two gentlemen shook hands and George couldn’t help but notice that this man had long hair like his. He wore a piece of cloth draped over his body tied with a royal purple sash. He had sandals upon his feet, now covered with dust and dirt.

The stranger reached out to touch George’s shoulder and said, “Hello, George, don’t feel bad because they won’t let you in. My name is Jesus, and I’ve been trying to get into this same church for years, and they won’t let me in either.”

THE DECK OF CARDS

This is a story about a soldier in the North Africa Campaign in World War II. After heavy fighting the men returned to camp. The next day being Sunday, the Chaplain had set up church service. The men were asked to take out their Bibles or prayer book. The Chaplain noticed one soldier looking at a deck of cards. After the service he was taken by the Chaplain to see the Major.

The Chaplain explained to the Major of what he had seen. The Major told the young soldier how he would have to be punished if he could not explain himself. The young soldier told the Major that during the battle he had neither a Bible or prayer book, so he would use his deck of cards, and explained:

* "You see, Sir, when I look at the Ace, it tells me that there is one God and no other.

* When I see the 2 , it reminds me there is two parts of the Bible, the Old and New Testaments.

* The 3 tells me of the Trinity, of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.

* The 4 reminds me of the four Gospels; There are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

* When I see the 5, it tells me of the five unwise virgins who were lost, and the five who were saved.

* The 6 makes me mindful that God created the earth in just six days, and God said that it was good. So He rested on the 7th day.

* As I look at the 8, I remembered that God destroyed all life by water except eight people. There were Noah and his wife, their three sons and their wives.

* When I see the 9, I think of the nine ungrateful lepers that God healed. There were ten in all, but only one came back to thank Him.

* The 10 tells me of the "Ten Commandments" carved in stone by the hand of God.

* The Jack makes me remember the prince of darkness. Like a roaring lion, he devours those he can.

* When I look at the Queen, I see blessed Mary, mother of Jesus.

* As I look at the last card, I see the King. This reminds me Jesus is the Lord of Lords and King of Kings!

* There are 365 spots on the cards, the number of days in a year.

* There are 52 cards to a deck, the number of weeks in a year.

* There are 12 picture cards, the number of months in a year.

* There are 4 cards to a suit, the number of months in a quarter.

* There are 13 suits, the number of weeks in a quarter."

And so the young soldier then said to the Major, "You see, Sir, that my intentions were honorable. My deck of cards serves as my Bible, my Prayer book, and my Almanac."

THE SWAN & THE CRANE

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Many years back, may be at least two decades ago, I read this simple story of a swan and a crane and their conversation about heaven. The story goes something like this:

One day a beautiful swan alighted by the banks of the water in which a crane was wading about seeking snails.

For a few moments the crane viewed the swan in stupid wonder and then inquired:

"Where do you come from?"

"I come from heaven!" replied the swan.

"And where is heaven?" asked the crane.

"Heaven!" said the swan, "Heaven! Have you never heard of heaven?"

And the beautiful bird went on to describe the grandeur of the Eternal City. She told of streets of gold, and the gates and walls made of precious stones; of the river of life, pure as crystal, upon whose banks is the tree whose leaves shall be for the healing of the nations. In eloquent terms the swan sought to describe the hosts who live in the other world, but without arousing the slightest interest on the part of the crane.

Finally the crane asked: "Are there any snails there?"

"Snails!" repeated the swan; "No! Of course, there are not."

"Then," said the crane, as it continued its search along the slimy banks of the pool, "You can have your heaven. I want my snails!"

Many of us are like the crane. We fail to understand the grandeur and beauty of heaven so as to long for it intensely. Heaven and the things in it are much better than our best possessions and the riches of this world. Yet, we love this world so much. We often talk about heaven but lacks sincerity. We are so used to the vanities of the world. We treasure our “snails” and are even willing to trade the joy and happiness of heaven for it.

Why are we so stubborn? Why do we hate to give up our “snails”?

Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

If only we can truly understand the things which God has prepared for!

Lord, teach us to understand and desire the things of heaven. Help us to disregard worldly materials and seek only things of you.

THE GOSSIP

A woman repeated a bit of gossip about a neighbor. Within a few days the whole community knew the story. The person it concerned was deeply hurt and offended. Later, the woman responsible for spreading the rumor learned that it was completely untrue. She was very sorry and went to a wise old sage to find out what she could do to repair the damage.

Go to the marketplace," he said, "and purchase a chicken, and have it killed. Then on your way home, pluck its feathers and drop them one by one along the road." Although surprised by this advice, the woman did what she was told.

The next day the wise man said, "Now, go and collect all those feathers you dropped yesterday and bring them back to me."

The woman followed the same road, but to her dismay the wind had blown all the feathers away. After searching for hours, she returned with only three in her hand.

“You see," said the old sage, "it's easy to drop them, but it is impossible to get them back. So it is with gossip. It doesn't take much to spread a rumor, but once you do you can never completely undo the wrong."

How would your life be different if…You walked away from gossip and verbal defamation? Let today be the day…You speak only the good you know of other people and encourage others to do the same || Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people || Eleanor Roosevelt

Isn't it kind of silly to think that tearing someone else down builds you up? || Sean Covey, The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies || Jane Austen

THE RECKONING ROOM

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except the one wall covered with small index cards files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different readings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then, without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have Betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I Have Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done In My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath At My Parents."

I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I'd hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting and was signed with my own signature. When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of the music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.

One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them." In an insane frenzy, I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I couldn't dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I have Shared The Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came.

I began to weep.

Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as he began opening the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over to me and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things.

But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was, "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up and He led me out of the room.

There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me || Phil. 4:13

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life || John 3:16

ONE STORMY NIGHT...

Photo: britannica.com

One stormy night many years ago, an elderly man and his wife entered the lobby of a small hotel in Philadelphia. Trying to get out of the rain, the couple approached the front desk hoping to get some shelter for the night.

"Could you possibly give us a room here?" the husband asked. The clerk, a friendly man with a winning smile, looked at the couple and explained that there were three conventions in town.

"All of our rooms are taken," the clerk said. "But I can't send a nice couple like you out into the rain at one o'clock in the morning. Would you perhaps be willing to sleep in my room? It's not exactly a suite, but it will be good enough to make you folks comfortable for the night."

When the couple declined, the young man pressed on. "Don't worry about me; I'll make out just fine," the clerk told them. So the couple agreed.

As he paid his bill the next morning, the elderly man said to the clerk, "You are the kind of manager who should be the boss of the best hotel in the United States. Maybe someday I'll build one for you."

The clerk looked at them and smiled. The three of them had a good laugh.

As they drove away, the elderly couple agreed that the helpful clerk was indeed exceptional, as finding people who are both friendly and helpful isn't easy.

Two years passed. The clerk had almost forgotten the incident when he received a letter from the old man. It recalled that stormy night and enclosed a round-trip ticket to New York, asking the young man to pay them a visit.

The old man met him in New York, and led him to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 34th Street. He then pointed to a great new building there, a palace of reddish stone, with turrets and watchtowers thrusting up to the sky.

"That," said the older man, "is the hotel I have just built for you to manage."

"You must be joking," the young man said.

"I can assure you I am not," said the older man, a sly smile playing around his mouth.

The older man's name was William Waldorf Astor, and the magnificent structure was the original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

The young clerk who became its first manager was George C. Boldt. This young clerk never foresaw the turn of events that would lead him to become the manager of one of the world's most glamorous hotels.

The Bible says that we are not to turn our backs on those who are in need, for we might be entertaining angels.

Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than the things you acquire...

THE MOTHER'S GIFT

Photo: Kendra MacFarlane

"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.

Then one fine day, "You are 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.

"But I must know!" He urged his father, "Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him." "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 a son must endure. 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 that the mother had no outer ears.

"Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," he whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they?"

Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart.

Real treasure lies not in what   that can be seen, but what that cannot be seen.

Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in what that is done but not known.

HANG ON TO ONE ANOTHER

Photo: truhealthquest.com

There is a beautiful story of an overworked nurse who escorted a tired young man to her patient’s bedside. Leaning over and speaking loudly to the elderly patient, she said, “Your son is here.”

With great effort, the old man’s unfocused eyes opened, then flickered shut again. The young man squeezed the aged hand in his and sat beside the bed.

Throughout the night he sat there, holding the old man’s hand and whispering words of comfort.

By morning light, the patient had died. In moments, hospital staff swarmed into the room to turn off machines and remove needles.

The nurse stepped over to the young man’s side and began to offer sympathy, but he interrupted her.

“Who was that man?” he asked.

The startled nurse replied, “I thought he was your father!” “No, he was not my father,” he answered. “I never saw him before in my life.” “Then why didn’t you say something when I took you to him?”

“I realized he needed his son and his son wasn’t here,” the man explained. “And since he was too sick to recognize that I was not his son, I knew he needed me.”

Do we need to be reminded that nobody should have to die alone? Likewise, nobody should have to grieve alone or cry alone. Or laugh alone or celebrate alone.

We are made to travel life’s journey hand in hand. There is someone ready to grasp your hand today, and someone hoping you will take his or her hand.

Remember to hang on to one another!

Lord help me live from day to day

In such a self-forgetful way

That even when I kneel to pray

My prayer shall be for others.

TRUE LOVE

Photo: Leanne Alessi

On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to the supermarket to buy the rest of the gifts I hadn’t managed to buy earlier.

When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself: “It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go. Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep, and only wake up after it was over.”

Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to decry the prices, wondering if kids really play with such expensive toys.

I noticed a small boy about five years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll, and he looked so sad. I wondered whom this doll was for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him and asked, “Granny, are you sure I don’t have enough money?” The old lady replied, “You know that you don’t have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.”

Then she asked him to stay there for five minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hands.

Finally, I walked over to him and asked him to whom he wanted to give this doll.

“This is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.”

I replied that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry. But he said sadly, “No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there.” His eyes were so sad while saying this. “My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.”

My heart nearly stopped.

The little boy looked up at me and said, “I told Daddy to tell Mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket.” Then he showed me a very nice photo of himself where he was laughing.

He told me, “I also want Mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me. I love my mummy and I wish she didn’t have to leave me, but Daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.”

Then he looked again at the doll with his sad eyes. I quickly reached for my wallet and took out a few dollars and said to the boy, “What if we checked again, just in case, to see if you have enough money?”

“Okay,” he said. “I hope that I have enough.” I added some of my money to his without him seeing, and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll, and even some to spare. The little boy said, “Thank you, God, for giving me enough money.”

Then he looked at me and added, “I asked yesterday before I slept for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that Mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me. I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn’t dare to ask God for too much. But he gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose. Mummy loves white roses.”

A few minutes later, the old lady returned, and I left with my cart. I finished my shopping in a totally different state of mind from when I started. I couldn’t get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article two days before, about an accident involving a drunk driver in a truck and a young mother and child in a car. The little girl died at the scene, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life support system, because the young lady would not be able to recover from the coma.

Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away. I impulsively bought a bunch of white roses and went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was on display for visitors to pay their final respects.

She lay there in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand, with the doll and the photo of the little boy placed over her chest.

I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever.

The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine.

And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken it all away from him.

DON'T QUIT PLAYING

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Wishing to encourage her young son’s progress on the piano, a mother took the small boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted a friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked “No Admittance!”

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that her son was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage.

In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy’s ear, “Don’t quit. Keep playing.”

Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child and he added a running obligato.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was mesmerized.

That’s the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren’t exactly graceful flowing music; but with the help of the Master, our life’s work truly can be beautiful.

Next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You can hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, “Don’t quit. Keep playing.” Feel his loving arms around you. Know that his strong hands are playing the concerto of your life.

Remember, God doesn’t call the equipped, he equips the called.

SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS

sheknows.com

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls.

He looked down into the eyes of a little boy. “Mister,” the lad said, “I want to buy one of your puppies.” “Well,” said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, “these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.”

The boy thought for a moment. Then, reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. “I’ve got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?” “Sure,” said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle, “Here, Dolly!” he called.

Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly, followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs came up to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Another little ball appeared;

slowly and awkwardly, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up.

“I want that one,” the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy’s side and said, “Son, you don’t want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would.” At that, the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling

up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg, attached to a specially made shoe.

Looking back up at the farmer, he said, “You see, sir, I don’t run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands.”

THE HEART OF A LESSON

His name was Bill. He had wild hair, wore a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes. This was his wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He was kind of eccentric but very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college.

Across the street from the campus was a prosperous and very conservative church. They wanted to develop a ministry to the students, but were not sure how to go about it.

One day Bill decides to go to the church. He walks in with his wild hair, jeans, T-shirt, and bare feet. The service has already started, so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is completely packed and he can’t find a seat. The well-dressed people look a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Bill gets closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just

sits down right on the floor.

By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick.

About this time, the minister realizes that from the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill. The deacon is in his eighties, with silver hair and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified. Leaning on his cane, he walks down the aisle toward the boy.

The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man’s cane. All eyes are focused on him. The minister can’t even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do. Everyone expects the deacon is going to eject Bill from church - and who could blame him?

But now they see the elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself to sit down next to Bill and worship with him so he won’t be alone.

Everyone chokes up with emotion. When the minister regains his control, he says, “What I’m about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget.”

Be careful how you live. You may be the only Bible some people will ever read.

TRUE FRIENDS

Photo: history.com

Horror gripped the heart of the World War I soldier as he saw his lifelong friend fall in battle. Caught in a trench with continuous gunfire whizzing over his head, the soldier asked his lieutenant if he might go out into the "no man's land" between the trenches to bring his fallen comrade back.

"You can go," said the lieutenant, "but I don't think it will be worth it. Your friend is probably dead and you may throw your life away." The lieutenant's advice didn't matter, and the soldier went anyway. Miraculously he managed to reach his friend, hoist him onto his shoulder and bring him back to their company's trench. As the two of them tumbled in together to the bottom of the trench, the officer checked the wounded soldier, and then looked kindly at his friend.

"I told you it wouldn't be worth it," he said.

"Your friend is dead and you are mortally wounded.

"It was worth it, though, sir," said the soldier.

"What do you mean; worth it?" responded the Lieutenant. "Your friend is dead."

"Yes, Sir" the private answered. "But it was worth it because when I got to him, he was still alive and I had the satisfaction of hearing him say, "Jim, I knew you'd come."

Many times in life, whether a thing is worth doing or not, really depends on how you look at it. Take up all your courage and do something your heart tells you to do so that you may not regret not doing it later in your life."

May each and every one of you be blessed with the company of true friends.

A true friend is one who walks in, when the rest of the world walks out.

War doesn't determine who's right. War only determines who's left.

ALONG THE COUNTRY ROAD

An old man and his dog were walking along a country road, enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to the man that he had died. He remembered dying, and realized, too, that the dog had been dead for many years. He wondered where the road would lead them, and continued onward.

After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall, white arch that gleamed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother of pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He was pleased that he had finally arrived at heaven, and the man and his dog walked toward the gate. As he got closer, he saw someone sitting at a beautifully carved desk off to one side.

When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, but is this heaven?"

"Yes, it is, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.

"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up." The gatekeeper gestured to his rear, and the huge gate began to open.

"I assume my friend can come in..." the man said, gesturing toward his dog.

But the reply was, "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought about it, then thanked the gatekeeper, turned back toward the road, and continued in the direction he had been going. After another long walk, he reached the top of another long hill, and he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate. There was no fence, and it looked as if the gate had never been closed, as grass had grown up around it. As he approached the gate, he saw a man just inside, sitting in the shade of a tree in a rickety old chair, reading a book. "Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any water?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there," the man said, pointing to a place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate. "Come on in and make yourself at home."

"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.

"He's welcome too, and there's a bowl by the pump," he said. They walked through the gate and, sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a dipper hanging on it and a bowl next to it on the ground. The man filled the bowl for his dog, and then took a long drink himself.

When both were satisfied, he and the dog walked back toward the man, who was sitting under the tree waiting for them, and asked, "What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.

"This is heaven," was the answer.

"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "It certainly doesn't look like heaven, and there's another man down the road who said that place was heaven."

"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates?"

"Yes, it was beautiful."

"Nope. That's hell."

"Doesn't it offend you for them to use the name of heaven like that?"

"No. I can see how you might think so, but it actually saves us a lot of time. They screen out the people who are willing to leave their best friends behind."