And God said "NO"

I asked God to take away my pride. And God said “No”.
He said it was not for Him to take away, but for me to give up.

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole. And God said “No”.
He said her spirit was whole, her body was only temporary.

I asked God to grant me patience. And God said “No”.
He said patience is a by-product of tribulations. It isn’t granted, it is earned.

I asked God to give me happiness. And God said “No”.
He said He gives me blessings, happiness is up to me.

I asked God to spare me pain. And God said “No”.
He said suffering draws me apart from worldly cares and brings me closer to Him.

I asked God to make my spirit grow. And God said “No”.
He said I must grow on my own. But He will prune me to make me fruitful.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. And God said “No”.
He said He will give me life, that I may enjoy all things.

I ask God to help me love others, as much as he loves me.
And God said “Ah, finally you have the idea!”

Author: Claudia Minden Weisz

Footprints

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed He was walking along the beach with the LORD. Across the sky flashed scenes from His life. For each scene He noticed two sets of footprints in the sand. One belonging to Him and the other to the LORD.

When the last scene of His life flashed before Him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of His life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times of His life.

This really bothered Him and He questioned the LORD about it. LORD you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me.

The LORD replied, my precious, precious child, I Love you and I would never leave you! During your times of trial and suffering when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.

Carolyn Carty, 1963

Last Day

SUPPOSING TODAY WERE YOUR LAST DAY ON EARTH,
THE LAST MILE OF THE JOURNEY YOU'VE TROD;

AFTER ALL OF YOUR STRUGGLES, HOW MUCH ARE YOU WORTH?
HOW MUCH CAN YOU TAKE HOME TO GOD?

DON'T COUNT AS POSSESSIONS YOUR SILVER AND GOLD,
TOMORROW YOU LEAVE THOSE BEHIND,

AND ALL THAT IS YOURS TO HAVE AND TO HOLD,
IS THE SERVICE YOU'VE GIVEN MANKIND.

The Candle

The Candle
AUTHOR UNKNOWN

The candle is but a simple thing.
It starts with just a bit of string.
Yet dipped and dipped with patient hand...
It gathers wax upon the strand...
Until, complete and snowy white,
It gives at last a lovely light.

Life is so like that bit of string,
Each deed we do, a simple thing.
Yet day by day if on life's strand,
We work with patient heart and hand,
It gathers joy, makes dark days bright,
And gives at last a lovely light.

CHRISTmas

A woman was Christmas shopping with her two children.

After many hours of walking down row after row of toys and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the store elevator with her two children in hand.

She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, making sure we don't forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card.

Finally the doors opened revealing a crowded elevator. She pushed her way in and dragged her two kids and all her bags of stuff in with her. As the doors closed she couldn't take it anymore and blurted out, "Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up, and shot."




From the back of the car, a quiet calm voice responded, "Don't worry, we've already crucified Him."

The rest of the trip down was so quiet you could have heard...









Don't forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all would do that, just think how much better this world would be.

Jesus is the reason for the season. Wise men still seek Him.

Marbles

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.

"Here 'tis.. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner asked.

"Not zackley but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip
this way let me look at that red marble". Mr. Miller told the boy.

"Sure will.. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store."

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts....all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.

40 Wrestlers

In the days of Nero, the Emperor of Rome, there was a band of elite soldiers known as the “The Emperor’s Wrestlers.” These men were the best athletes in the Roman Amphitheater, and the bravest soldiers in all of the Roman army. They wrestled for the Emperor against all who challenged them. Before each contest they would stand before the Emperor’s throne and cry out “We the wrestlers, wrestling for thee, O Emperor, to win for thee the victory and from thee the victor’s crown.”
One year, in mid-winter, there was a rebellion waged in Gaul (modern-day France), the Emperor sent for his wrestlers and told them to go to Gaul to end the war that was raging on. This brave group of wrestlers left Rome under the command of Vespasian.
While in Gaul rumors spread to Rome that many of the Emperor’s Wrestlers had become Christians. When news of this reached Nero, the Emperor, he sent a message to Vespasian, and made this decree; “If there be any among your soldiers who cling to the faith of the Christian, they must die!”
It was in the dead of winter that Vespasian received the message while his soldiers were camped beside a frozen lake in Gaul. Vespasian assembled his troops and asked, “Are there any among you who cling to the faith of the Christians? If so, let him step forward.”
Forty soldiers instantly stepped forward two paces, saluted and stood at attention. Vespasian was stunned! He had not expected any to step forward. Vespasian said, “Until sundown I shall give you time to recant and to deny your faith.”
At sundown the soldiers were again assembled together and Vespasian asked: “Who still clings to the Christian faith, even if it means death?”
Again 40 soldiers stepped forward and stood at attention. Vespasian pleaded with them to deny their faith, but not one soldier would deny Christ.
Vespasian did not want these men he loved, respected, who fought side to side together, die at the hands of their fellow wrestlers, so he had them strip naked. Vespasian reluctantly said, “The decree of the Emperor must be obeyed, so you shall stand out on the frozen lake, exposed to the elements until you freeze to death. Should you recant and deny Christ, the fire will remain burning on shore, and by returning to the shelter of the fire, you will be denouncing Christ and you shall live.”
The forty soldiers stripped off their clothing, fell into four columns of ten each, and marched towards the center of the frozen lake to their death. But as they marched onto the ice, they chanted; “Forty wrestlers, wrestling for thee O Christ, to win for thee the victory and from thee the victor’s crown.”
All night long Vespasian stood by his campfire and watched those forty brave wrestlers out on the ice as they slowly succumbed to the elements. As they grew weaker and weaker, their chanting grew fainter and fainter; “Forty wrestlers, wrestling for thee O Christ, to win of thee the victory and from thee the victor’s crown.”
As morning drew near, one wrestler, no longer able to stand the freezing cold, walked off the ice and came to the edge of the fire, renouncing Christ. Vespasian could hear faintly from the frozen lake; “Thirty-nine wrestlers, wrestling for thee O Christ, to win for thee the victory and from thee the victor’s crown.”
Vespasian, standing by the fire all night, was thinking. As he stood there God touched his heart. Vespasian slowly removed his cloak, helmet and armor and calmly walked down upon the frozen lake to join his men, and as he walked, he chanted;
“Forty wrestlers, wrestling for thee O Christ, to win for thee the victory and from thee the victor’s crown.”
AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Santa

Dear Santa,

If I could ask for just ONE GIFT this Christmas
I would ask for world peace.
But how would you fit it in a bag?
So I guess anything else would be fine!

PS. Fill it up!

Wise Men Still Seek Him

GIFTS OF THE MAGI
"AND WHEN THEY WERE COME INTO THE HOUSE, THEY SAW THE YOUNG CHILD WITH MARY, HIS MOTHER, AND THEY FELL DOWN, AND WORSHIPED HIM: AND WHEN THEY HAD OPENED THEIR TREASURES, THEY PRESENTED TO HIM GIFTS:; GOLD, AND FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH." - MATHEW 2:11

THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE TRADITION OF GIVING GIFTS AT CHRISTMAS. SINCE THE ONLY GIFTS WE CAN GIVE JESUS NOW ARE OUR LIVE AND OUR SERVICE TO OTHERS, WE CELEBRATE HIS BIRTH EVERY YEAR BY GIVING TO OTHERS.
WHAT EXACTLY ARE GOLD, AND FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH AND HOW DO THESE GIFTS RELATE TO CHRIST?

GOLD:
A PRECIOUS METAL, GOLD IS REMARKABLE FOR IT'S BEAUTIFUL COLOR, IT'S DENSITY, AND IT'S FREEDOM FROM RUST OR TARNISH. IT IS WIDELY FOUND IN NATURE AS A FREE METAL BUT ALWAYS IN SMALL QUANTITIES. IT IS USED FOR JEWELRY, ORNAMENTS, GUILDING AND COMBINED WITH OTHER METALS FOR COMAGE. THROUGHOUT HISTORY IT HAS BEEN CONSIDERED PRECIOUS AND A SYMBOL OF WEALTH.

FRANKINCENSE:
FRANKINCENSE IS A SUBSTANCE THAT EMITS FRAGRANCE FROM OLD WORLD BALSAM TREES. IT IS CONSIDERED A LUXURIOUS INCENSE. FRANKINCENSE WAS BURNED BY BOTH EGYPTIANS AND JEWS IN THEIR RELIGIOUS DEVOTION. IT IS STILL USED TODAY AS AN INCENSE.

MYRRH:
THE ANCIENT HEBREWS REGARDED MYRRH AS ONE OF EARTH'S MOST PRECIOUS AND VERSATILE PRODUCTS. AS A MEDICINE IT HEALED THEIR BODIES, AS AN INCENSE IT LIFTED THEIR SPIRITS, AND AS A PERFUME IT PLEASED THEIR HEARTS. MYRRH IS A LOW AND BRANCHY SHRUB OR TREE WITH WHITEISH/GREY BARK AND BEARS FRUIT THE SIZE OF A PEA. THE RESIN FLOWS NATURALLY FROM THE BARK FORMING SOFT REDDISH BROWN DROPS WHICH GRADUALLY HARDEN AND FORM THE MEDICINAL GUM MYRRH. THEY POWDER READILY, GIVING OFF A PLEASANT FRAGRANCE, AND THE TASTE, THOUGH BITTER, IS NOT UNPLEASANT. OF THE THREE WISEMEN, BELIEVED TO BE MEMBERS OF THE CASTE OF PERSIA, ONE CONSIDERED MYRRH TO BE OF SUCH EXCEPTIONAL VALUE THAT IT WAS OFFERED BY HIM AS A GIFT TO THE INFANT JESUS, THE HIGHEST OF KINGS.

Jingle Bells rewritten

TO THE TUNE OF 'JINGLE BELLS'

DASHING THROUGH THE MALL
WITH GROCERIES YET TO BUY
LESSONS, WORK, HOUSECLEANING
LIFE IS SO CRAZY, WHY?

BELLS ON OUR PHONE RING
THE MACHINE WILL TAKE THE CALL
WE HAVE NO TIME FOR FAMILY OF FRIENDS
IT DRIVES US UP THE WALL!

CHORUS:
HOW ARE YOU? HOW'S YOUR LIFE?
WE REALLY WANT TO KNOW
HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR CHRISTMAS
NOW MAYBE IT WILL SNOW

A DAY OR TWO AGO
WE THOUGHT WE'D MAKE A TREAT
FOR ALL OUR SPECIAL FRIENDS
A CHRISTMAS GIFT TO EAT

OUR INTENTIONS WERE TOP NOTCH
BUT OUR SCHEDULES WOULD NOT BUDGE
SO HERE'S THIS YEAR'S EDITION OF
SOME HOMEMADE CHRISTMAS FUDGE!

The Lord is coming to visit

Ruth went to her mail box and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again.
There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address. She read the letter:

Dear Ruth:
I`m going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I'd like to stop by for a visit.

Love Always,
Jesus

Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table.

"Why would the Lord want to visit me? I'm nobody special. I don't have anything to offer."

With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets.

"Oh my goodness, I really don't have anything to offer.
I'll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner."

She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents.
Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least." She threw on her coat and hurried out the door.

A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk, leaving Ruth with grand total twelve cents to last her until Monday. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings tucked under her arm.

"Hey lady, can you help us,lady?"
Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans, she hadn't even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags.

"Look lady, I ain't got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it's getting cold and we're getting kinda hungry and, well, if you could help us Lady, we'd really appreciate it."

Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.

"Sir, I'd like to help you, but I'm a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I'm having an important guest for dinner tonight and I was planning on serving that to Him."

"Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway." The man put his arm around the woman's shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley.

As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart. "Sir, wait!"
The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them.

"Look, why don't you take this food. I'll figure out something else to serve my guest."

She handed the man her grocery bag.

"Thank you lady. Thank you very much!"
"Yes, thank you!" It was the man's wife, and Ruth could see now that she was shivering.

"You know, I've got another coat at home. Here, why don't you take this one."
Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman's shoulders.
Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street...without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.

Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too.
The Lord was coming to visit and she didn't have anything to offer Him.
She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox. "That's odd. The mailman doesn't usually come twice in one day."

Dear Ruth:

It was so good to see you again.
Thank you for the lovely meal.
And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.
Love Always,

Jesus

The air was still cold, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Give Thanks

AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Thankful...

For the spouse who hogs the bed covers at night, because that means they aren't somewhere else.

For the teenager who is not doing dishes, but is watching TV, because that means they are at home and not on the streets.

For the taxes that I pay, because that means I am employed.

For the mess to clean after a party, because it means I have been surrounded by friends.

For the clothes that fit a little too snug, because they tell me I have enough to eat.

For my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine.

For the lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.

For all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have freedom of speech.

For the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I'm capable of walking and have been blessed with transportation.

For my huge winter heating bill, because it means I am warm.

For my huge summer electric bill, because it means I am cool.

For the lady behind me in church that sings off key, because it means that I can hear

For the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.

For weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, because it means I have been capable of working hard.

For the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means that I'm alive.

For too much e-mail, because it means I have friends who are thinking of me.

Good Stuff

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Stuff
Every fall I start stirring my stuff. There is closet stuff, drawer stuff, attic stuff, and basement stuff. I separate the good stuff from the bad stuff, then I stuff the bad stuff anywhere the stuff is not too crowded untilI decide if I will need the bad stuff.
When the Lord calls me home, my children will want the good stuff, but the bad stuff, stuffed where ever there is room among all the other stuff, will be stuffed in bags and taken to the dump where all the other people's stuff has been taken.
Whenever we have company they always bring bags and bags of stuff. Whenever I visit my son, he always moves his stuff so I will have room for my stuff. My daughter in-law always clears a drawer of her stuff so I will have room for my stuff. Their stuff and my stuff... It would be so much easier to use their stuff and leave my stuff at home, with the rest of my stuff.
This fall I had an extra closet built so I would have a place for all the stuff too good to throw away and too bad to keep with my good stuff. You may not have this problem, but I seem to spend a lot of time with stuff... food stuff, cleaning stuff, medicine stuff, clothes stuff, and outside stuff. Whatever would life be like if we didn't have all this stuff?
Now there is all the stuff we use to make us smell better than we do. There is the stuff to make our hair look good, stuff to make us look younger, stuff to make us look healthier. stuff to hold us in, and stuff to fill us out. There is stuff to read, stuff to play with, stuff to entertain us and stuff to eat. We stuff ourselves with the food stuff.
Well, our lives are with stuff, good stuff, bad stuff, big stuff, useful stuff, junky stuff, and everyone's stuff. Now when we leave all our stuff and go to heaven, whatever happens to our stuff won't matter. We will still have the good stuff God has prepared for us in heaven.

Poem of Thanksgiving

Coming up on that time of year again!

Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep.

I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep.

The leftovers beckoned- the dark meat and white,

But I fought the temptation with all of my might.

Tossing and turning with anticipation, the thought of a snack became infatuation.

So, I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door.

And gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,

Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling so plump and so round,

"Til all of a sudden, I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky

With a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie.

But, I managed to yell as I soared past the trees...

Happy eating to all - pass the cranberries, please.

May your stuffing be tasty, may your turkey be plump.

May you potatoes 'n gravy have nary a lump,

May your yams be delicious may your pies take the prize,

May your thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs.

Good Napkinds

My mother taught me to read when I was three years old (her first mistake).
One day, I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping 'napkins' in the bathroom and not in the kitchen? Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts, she told me that those were for "special occasions."
Now fast forward a few months....It's Thanksgiving Day, and my folks are leaving to pick up the pastor and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the table.
When they returned, the pastor came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter. Then came Mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table with a "special occasion" napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tail in so they didn't hang off the edge!! My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter.
"But, Mom, you SAID they were for special occasions!!!"
Original Author Unknown, probably too embarrassed now to take credit...

Rose, Lily and Hawthorn

Many years ago Japan was walled in as a nation. During that time, learned men studied nature and met with little groups of men and women at night and taught them lessons of life.

One morning, when one of these learned men was about to leave the gates of the city to go out to study nature, a workman stopped him and said, "When you come in tonight from your studies, will you please bring me a rose that I may study the whorl of the petals as you pointed out last night?"

"Yes," said the learned man, "I will bring you a rose." He had not gone far before a second man accosted him, saying, "Will you please bring me a hawthorn twig tonight?"
"Yes," said the professor. And, even before he got through the gate, a third accosted him, saying "Will you please bring me a lily that i might see the lessons of purity that you gave us last evening?" And the professor answered, "I will bring you a lily."

Just as the sun was setting in the west, the professor entered the gate of the city, where the three men met him. To the first, he gave the rose; to the second he gave the hawthorn twig; to the third he gave the lily.

Suddenly the man with the rose said, "Why, here's a thorn on the stem of my rose!" And the second said, "And here's a dead leaf clinging to my hawthorn twig!" And the third, encouraged by the fault finding, said, "And here's dirt clinging to the roots of my lily!"

The professor took the rose from the first, the twig from the second, the lily from the third. He broke the thorn from the stem of the rose and handed the thorn to the first; he plucked the dead leaf from the twig and put the dead leaf into the hands of the second; he took the dirt from the roots of the lily and gave the dirt to the third.

Keeping the rose, the twig and the lily, he said, "There, each of you has what attracted you first. You looked for the thorn and found it. It was there. I left it purposely. The dead leaf was left on the twig, and you saw it first. Purposely I left the dirt on the roots of the lily, and the dirt was the first thing you saw. Each of you keep what attracted your attention; I will keep the rose, the twig, and the lily for the beauty I see in them."

--David O. McKay

Spreading the wealth

An economics professor at a local college made a statement that he had never failed a single student before, but had once failed an entire class.
That class had insisted that Obama's socialism worked and that no one would be poor and no one would be rich, a great equalizer.
The professor then said, "OK, we will have an experiment in this class on Obama's plan".
All grades would be averaged and everyone would receive the same grade so no one would fail and no one would receive an A.
After the first test, the grades were averaged and everyone got a B.
The students who studied hard were upset and the students who studied little were happy.
As the second test rolled around, the students who studied little had studied even less and the ones who studied hard decided they wanted a free ride too so they studied little.
The second test average was a D!
No one was happy.
When the 3rd test rolled around, the average was an F.
The scores never increased as bickering, blame and name-calling all resulted in hard feelings and no one would study for the benefit of anyone else.
All failed, to their great surprise, and the professor told them that socialism would also ultimately fail because when the reward is great, the effort to succeed is great but when government takes all the reward away, no one will try or want to succeed.

Halloween Poem

AUTHOR UNKNOWN
Since this is the time for goblins and bats
Halloween spirits and ghosts and cats
Weird happenings and witches brew
These are things we wish for you
May the only ghost that comes to stay
Be the Holy Ghost to guide your way.
May the only spirits you chance to meet
Be the spirit of love and warm friends sweet
These are you Halloween wishes for you
May God bless you in all you do!

HOW I FINALLY TAUGHT THE BIG GUY A LESSON

I did not provoke the fight, so I feel no remorse for what I was forced to do. We were arguing, and since I was right and he was wrong, he decided to fight to cover his stupidity. He swung at me first, but because I was in top condition, I was able to act quickly and block the punch neatly with my head. I then jumped to the ground, knocking him down on top of me. I placed my ear in his mouth and poked his finger several times with my eye. His teeth hurt so much from the strenght of my ear, that he became irate and tried to kick me, but I cleverly blocked the onslaught with my ribs and face. I scrambled to my feet and ran to my car in hopes I would get away and save this man from my deadly hands. Before I could start the car he pulled me from the still open door. I then proceeded to swing at him, but only managed to hit myself in the head. To this I said: "what's this? Two against one?" That was the final straw - I lost control! There will be no mercy!!! Taking him in my death grip, I pounded him in the knee with my stomach - Then hit him two or three times hard in the fist with my teeth! He had had it! I could tell. After that he didn't even try to pick me up off the ground. HE WAS TOO CHICKEN!!!!

PERSPECTIVE IS EVERYTHING IN LIFE!!

Resurrection Experience of Zeke Johnson

Resurrection Experience of Zeke Johnson
Digitized By Glen W. Chapman

I have been requested to relate an experience I had in 1908 cr1909 in San Juan County.
I was just making' a home in Blanding and the whole county there was covered with trees and sagebrush. I was working hard to clear the ground to plant a few acres of corn. We had five acres cleared and started to plant the corn. My little boy Roy, 7 or 8 years old was there to help me plant the corn.
I'd plow around the piece and then he 'd plant the furrow with corn, Then I'd cover it and plow again. While I was plowing on that piece of ground, I discovered there were ancient houses there, that is the remnant of them. As I was plowing around I noticed that my plow had turned out the skeleton of a small child. the skull and the backbone, most of the bones of course were decayed and gone. Part of the skeleton was there, so I stopped immediately as my plow had passed it a little. I turned and looked back against the bar of the plow between the handles. As I was looking at that little skeleton that I had plowed out and wondering, all of a sudden to my surprise I saw the bones begin to wiggle and they began to change position and to take on different color and within a minute there lay a beautiful little skeleton. It was a perfect little skeleton.
Then I saw the inner parts of the natural body coming in--the entrails, etc. I saw the flesh coming on and I saw the skin come on the body when the inner parts of the body was complete. A beautiful head of hair adorned the top of the head and in about a half a minute after the hair was on the head, it had a beautiful crystal decoration in the hair . It was combed beautifully and parted on one side. In about a half a minute after the hair was on the head, the child raised up on her feet. She was lying a little on her right side with her back toward me. Because of this I was able to discern the gender of the child, but as she raised up, a beautiful robe came down over her left shoulder and I saw it must be a girl.
She looked at me and I looked at her and for a quarter of a minute, we just looked at each other
smiling. Then my ambition was to get hold of her, I said "Oh you beautiful child," and I reached as if I would embrace her and she disappeared.
That was all I saw and I stood there and I wondered and I thought for a few minutes. My little
boy was wondering why I was there because he was down at the other end of the row anxious to come and plant the corn. Now, I couldn't tell that story to anyone because it was so mysterious to me and such. Why should I have such a miraculous experience. I couldn't feature a human being in such a condition as to accidentally plow that little body out and see it come alive. A body of a child about five to seven years old, I'd say.
I couldn't tell that story to anyone until finally one day I met a dear friend of mine, Stake
Patriarch, Wayne H. Redd of Blanding. He stopped me on the street and said "Zeke, you have had an experience on this Mesa you won't tell. I want you to tell it to me." Well, I told it to him. Then he had me tell it to other friends and since then I have told it in four temples in the United States and many meeting houses and many socials, fast meetings, and at conference times.
I wondered, and it worried me for years as to why I was allowed to see it, a common man like me - uneducated. Why was I, just a common man, allowed to see such a miraculous manifestation of
God's power.
One day as I was walking alone with my hoe on my shoulder going to hoe some corn, something
said, "Stop under the shade of that tree for a few minutes and rest." This just came to me and I thought I would, so I stopped there and this was given to me.
It was in answer to my prayer. I prayed incessantly for an answer as to why I was privileged to
see that resurrection. I was told why. When the child was buried there it was either in time of war with the different tribes or it was winter time when the ground was frozen and they had no tools to dig deep graves. If it were during time of war they couldn't possibly take time to dig a deep grave. They just planted that little body as deep as they could under the circumstances. When it was done the sorrowing mother knew that it was such a little shallow grave, that in her sorrow she cried out to the little group that was present, "That little shallow grave, the first beast that comes along will smell her body and will dig her up and scatter her to the four winds. Her bones will be scattered all over these flats." There just happened to be a man present holding the priesthood (a Nephite or a Jaredite, I don't know which because they had both been in this country I've been in their houses and know it.) This man said, "Sister, calm your sorrows. Whenever that little body is disturbed or uncovered, the Lord will call her up and she will live. Since that time, I have taken great comfort, great cheer and consolation and satisfaction with praise in my heart and soul, until I haven't the words to express it, that it was I that uncovered that little body. Thank you for listening to me. I just can't tell this without crying.
Zeke Johnson
Son of Joel Hills John
This report was given to Glen W. Chapman the compiler By Bruce Johnson the grandson of Zeke
Johnson in the year of 1976.

Life

"Life is fragile and, therefore, should be handled with prayer." Pres. Harold B. Lee

This too shall pass!

Popcorn Parable

AUTHOR: Unknown

Behold, at the time of the harvest, the ears of corn did bring forth kernels which were dried and prepared for the popper's hand.

And then it was that the popper did take the kernels, all of which appeared alike unto him, and did apply the oil and heat.

And it came to pass that when the heat was on, some did explode with promise and magnify themselves an hundred-fold, and some did burst forth with whiteness which did both gladden the eye and satisfy the taste of the popper. And likewise some others did pop but not too much.

But lo, there were some that did just lie there and even though the popper's heat was alike unto all, they did bask in the warmth of the oil and did keep all they had for themselves. And so it came to pass that those which had given of themselves did bring joy and delight to many munchers, but those which kept of the warmth and did not burst forth were fit only to be cast into the pail and were thought of with hardness and disgust.

And thus we see that in the beginning that all appear alike, but when the heat is on, some come forth and give their all, while others fail to pop and become as chaft to be discarded and forgotten.

Dealing with Depression

Ways to overcome sorrow & depression
Taken from President Benson's message.

1. Repentance. Sin creates disharmony with God and is depressing to the spirit
2. Prayer. Prayer can put us in touch with God, our greatest source of comfort and counsel.
3. Service. To loose yourself in righteous service can lift your sights and get your mind off personal problems.
4. Work. Work's a blessing, not a doom. We should work to take care of spiritual, social, mental and physical needs
5. Health. The condition of the physical body can effect the spirit.
6. Reading. The Book of Mormon and words from the living prophet can give direction and comfort.
7. Blessing. In stressful times or critical events, one can seek a priesthood blessing.
8. Fasting. Periodic fasting can clear up the mind and strengthen the body and the spirit
9. Friends. Ideally your family ought to be your closest friends. Seek your Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
10. Music. Inspiring music can fill the soul with peace & heavenly thoughts, or move one to righteous action.
11. Endurance. There are times you have to righteously hand on & outlast the devil until his depressive spirit leaves.
12. Goals. Every accountable child of God needs to set goals, short and long range goals.

We believe in being OREOS

Author: Unknown

We believe in being OREOS
hOnest
tRue
chastE
benevOlent
virtuouS
and in doing good to all men!

Standard of Truth

The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; Persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every climb, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished and the great Jehovah shall say, "The work is done."

Character

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Character
My mother says she doesn't care,
About the color of my hair.
Or if my eyes are blue or brown.
Or if my nose turns up or down.

My mother says she doesn't care,
If I'm dark or if I'm fair,
Or if I'm thin or if I'm fat.
She doesn't fret over things like that.
It really doesn't matter.

But, if I cheat, or tell a lie,
Or do mean things that make folks cry.
Or if I'm rude or impolite,
And do not try to do what's right,
Then that does really matter.

It isn't looks that makes one great,
It's character that seals your fate.
It's what's within your heart, you see,
That makes or mars your destiny.
And that really does matter.

Murphy's horse laws

• If you do a thorough check of your trailer before hauling, your truck will break down
• There is no such thing as a sterile barn cat
• No one ever notices how you ride until you fall off
• The least useful horse in your barn will eat the most, require shoes every four weeks and need the vet at least once a month
• A horse's misbehavior will be in direct proportion to the number of people who are watching
• If you're wondering if you left the water on in the barn, you did
• If you're wondering if you latched the pasture gate, you didn't
• Hoof picks migrate
  
• Tack you hate never wears out
• Blankets you hate cannot be destroyed
• Horses you hate cannot be sold and will outlive you
• Clipper blades will become dull only when the horse is half finished
• Clipper motors will quit only when you have the horse's head left to trim
• If you approach within 50 feet of the barn in your "street clothes", you will get dirty
• You can't push a horse on a lunge line
• If a horse is advertised "under $5,000" you can bet he isn't $2,500
• The number of horses you own increases according to the number of stalls in your barn
• An uncomplicated horse can be ruined with enough schooling
• You can't run a barn without baling twine
• Wind velocity increases in direct proportion to how well your hat fits
• There is no such thing as the "right feed"
• If you fall off, you will land on the site of your most recent injury
• If you're winning, quit.

Original Author Unknown

If the horse you’re riding dies

The following story that was anonymously left in the mailbox of Dr. Emory Cowen of the University of Rochester:

Common advice from knowledgeable horse trainers includes the adage, “If the horse you’re riding dies, get off.” Seems simple enough, yet, in the education business we don’t always follow that advice. Instead, we often choose from an array of alternatives which include:
1. Buying a stronger whip.
2. Trying a new bit or bridle.
3. Switching riders.
4. Moving the horse to a new location.
5. Riding the horse for longer periods of time.
6. Saying things like, “This is the way we’ve always ridden this horse.”
7. Appointing a committee to study horses.
8. Arranging to visit other sites where they ride dead horses efficiently.
9. Increasing the standards for riding dead horses.
10. Creating a test for measuring our riding ability.
11. Comparing how we’re riding now with how we did it 10 or 20 years ago.
12. Complaining about the state of horses these days.
13. Coming up with new styles of riding.
14. Blaming the horse’s parents. The problem is in the breeding.
15. Tightening the cinch.

Worth

A speaker started off his seminar by holding a $20 bill in the air.

In a room of 200 he asked, "Who would like a $20 bill?" Hand started going up. He said, "I am going to give this to one of you but first let me do this..." He proceeded to crumple up the bill. He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still hands were up in the air. "Well, what if I do this?" He dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now who wants it?" Still hands went up in the air. "My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it, because, it didn't decrease in value. It was still worth $20.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled and ground into the dirt by decisions we make and circumstances that come our way. We feel that we are worthless, but, no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value, dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who love you. The worth of our lives come, not in what we do, or who we know, but by who we are. You are special, don't ever forget it!"

Kneel and pray
Tell God how big your problems are
And remember to tell your problems how big God is!

Beatitudes of a Leader

Beatitudes of a Leader
1.Blessed is the leader who has not sought high places, but who has been drafted into service because of ability and willingness to serve.
2. Blessed is the leader who knows where he is going, why he is going, and how he is going to get there.
3. Blessed is the leader who knows no discouragement, who presents no alibi.
4. Blessed is the leader who seeks for the best for those he serves.
5. Blessed is the leader who leads for the good of the most concerned, and not for the personal gratification of his own ideas.
6. Blessed is the leader who develops leaders while leading.
7. Blessed is the leader who marches with the group, interprets correctly the signs on the pathway that leads to success.
8. Blessed is the leader who has his head in the clouds but his feet on the ground.
9. Blessed is the leader who considers leadership an opportunity to serve.
10. Blessed are the leaders

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Throughout the Ages

AGES

Author: Unknown

Age 6: I've learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing "Silent Night."

Age 7: I've learned that our dog doesn't want to eat my broccoli either.

Age 9: I've learned that when I wave to people out in the country, they stop what they're doing and wave back.

Age 12: I've learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again.

Age 14: I've learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.

Age 15: I've learned that, although it's hard to admit it, I'm secretly glad my parents are strict with me.

Age 24: I've learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.

Age 26: I've learned that brushing my child's hair is one of life's great pleasures.

Age 29: I've learned that where ever I go, the world's worst drivers have followed me there.

Age 39: I've learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.

Age 42: I've learned that there are people who love you dearly, but just don't know how to show it.

Age 44: I've learned that you can make someone's day just by sending them a little note.

Age 46: I've learned that the greater a person's sense of guilt, the greater their need to cast blame on others.

Age 47: I've learned that children and grandparents are natural allies.

Age 48: I've learned that no matter what happens or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

Age 49: I've learned that singing "Amazing Grace" can lift my spirits for hours.

Age 50: I've learned that hotel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone.

Age 51: I've learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

Age 52: I've learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth more than a cabinet full of pills.

Age 53: I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.

Age 58: I've learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.

Age 61: I've learned that if you want to do something positive for your children, work on your marriage.

Age 62: I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

Age 64: I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.

Age 65: I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.

Age 66: I've learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision.

Age 72: I've learned that everyone can use a prayer.

Age 75: I've learned that it pays to believe in miracles. And to tell the truth, I've seen several.

Age 82: I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

Age 85: I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch - holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

Age 92: I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

Ageless: Sometimes people just need a little something to make them smile!

We learn

We learn...
10% of what we read
20% of what we hear
30% of what we see
50% of what we see and hear
70% of what we discuss
80% of what we experience
90% of what we teach others.
-William Glasser

The gospel and children

ELIJAH

The Sunday school teacher was carefully explaining the story of Elijah the Prophet and the false prophets of Baal. She explained how Elijah built the altar, put wood upon it, cut the steer in pieces, and laid it upon the altar. And then, Elijah commanded the people of God to fill four barrels of water and pour it over the altar. He had them do this four times "Now, said the teacher, "can anyone in the class tell me why the Lord would have Elijah pour water over the steer on the altar?" A little girl in the back of the room started waving her hand, "I know! I know!" she said, "To make the gravy!"


LOT'S WIFE

The Sunday School teacher was describing how Lot's wife looked back and turned into a pillar of salt, when little Jason interrupted, "My Mummy looked back once, while she was driving," he announced triumphantly, "and she turned into a telephone pole!"

GOOD SAMARITAN

A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan, in which a man was beaten, robbed and left for dead. She described the situation in vivid detail so her students would catch the drama. Then, she asked the class, "If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?" A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, "I think I'd throw up."

NOAH

A Sunday school teacher asked, "Johnny, do you think Noah did a lot of fishing when he was on the Ark?" "No," replied David. "How could he, with just two worms?"

HIGHER POWER

A Sunday school teacher said to her children, " We have been learning how powerful kings and queens were in Bible times. But, there is a higher power. Can anybody tell me what it is?" One child blurted out, "Aces!"

MOSES & THE RED SEA

Nine-year-old Joey was asked by his mother what he had learned in Sunday school. "Well, Mom, our teacher told us how God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue mission to lead the Israelites out of  Egypt. When he got to the Red Sea, he had his army build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely. Then, he radioed headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up the bridge and all the Israelites were saved." "Now, Joey, is that really what your teacher taught
you?" his mother asked. "Well, no, Mom. But, if I told it the way the teacher did, you'd never believe it!"


THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD

A Sunday Schoolteacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the most quoted passages in the Bible; Psalm 23. She gave the youngsters a month to learn the verse. Little Rick was excited about the task -- but, he just couldn't remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past the first line. On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23 in front of the congregation, Rickey was so nervous. When it was his turn, he stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, "The Lord is my Shepherd, and that's all I need to know."

The Ten Commandments

There was a very gracious lady who was mailing an old family Bible to her brother in another part of the country. "Is there anything breakable in here?" asked the postal clerk. "Only the Ten Commandments," answered the lady.

Amish

While driving in Pennsylvania, a family caught up to an Amish carriage. The owner of the carriage obviously had a sense of humor, because attached to the back of the carriage was a hand printed sign... "Energy efficient vehicle: Runs on oats and grass. Caution: Do not step in exhaust.

The Holy Ghost

Sunday after church, a Mom asked her very young daughter what the lesson was about. The daughter answered, "Don't be scared, you'll get your quilt." Needless to say, the Mom was perplexed. Later in the day, the pastor stopped by for tea and the Mom asked him what that morning's Sunday school lesson was about. He said "Be not afraid, thy comforter is coming."


Give me a sense of humor, Lord, Give me the grace to see a joke, To get some humor out of life, And pass it on to other folk.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

A Prophet's Counsel and Prayer for Youth

Unforgetable

A Prophet's Counsel and Prayer for Youth

The fence that me and Shorty built

Click here to read it!

Marks of a Man

As I jumped on board my flight from Miami to Salt Lake City, I paused for a moment to catch my breath. Seated near the front of the plane was an excited young man, probably 19, sitting with his parents. His hair was short and his clothes new and sharp. His suit was fitted perfectly and his black shoes still retained that store bought shine. His body was in good shape, his face clear, and his hands clean. In his eyes I could see a nervous look, and his movements were that of an actor on opening night.
He was obviously flying to Utah to become a missionary for the Mormon Church. I smiled as I walked by and took pride in belonging to this same Church where these young men and women voluntarily serve the Savior for two years. With this special feeling, I continued to the back where my seat was located.
As I sat in my seat, I looked to the right and to my surprise, saw another missionary sleeping in the window seat. His hair was also short, but that was the only similarity between the two. This one was obviously returning home, and I could tell at a glance what type of missionary he had been.
The fact that he was already asleep told me a lot. His entire body seemed to let out a big sigh. It looked as if this was the first time in two years he had even slept, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was. As I looked at his face, I could see the heavy bags under his eyes, the chapped lips, and the scarred and sunburned face caused by the fierce Florida sun.
His suit was tattered and worn. A few of the seams were coming apart, and I noticed that there were a couple of tears that had been hand-sewn with a very sloppy stitch.
I saw the nametag, crooked, scratched and bearing the name of the Church he represented, the engraving of which was almost all worn away. I saw the knee of his pants, worn and white, the result of many hours of humble prayer.
A tear came to my eye as I saw the things that really told me what kind of missionary he had been. I saw the marks that made this boy, a man. His feet - the two that had carried him from house to house, now lay there swollen and tired. They were covered by a pair of worn-out shoes. Many of the large scrapes and gouges had been filled in by the countless number of polishings.
His books - laying across his lap were his scriptures, the word of God. Once new, these books which testify of Jesus Christ and His mission, were now torn, bent, and ragged from use.
His hands - those big, strong hands, which had been used to bless and teach, were now scarred and cut from knocking at doors.
Those were indeed the marks of that man. And as I looked at him, I saw the marks of another man, the Savior, as he was hanging on the cross for the sins of the world.
His feet - those that had once carried him throughout the land during his ministry, were now nailed to the cross.
His side - now pierced with a spear. Sealing his gospel, his testimony with his life.
His hands - the hands that had been used to ordain his servants and bless the sick were also scarred with the nails that were pounded to hang him on the cross.
Those were the marks of that great man.
As my mind returned to the missionary, my whole body seemed to swell with pride and joy, because I knew, by looking at him, that he had served his Master well.
My joy was so great, I felt like running to the front of the plane, grabbing that new, young missionary, and bringing him back to see what he can become, what he can do.
But would he see the things that I saw, could anyone see the things I saw? Or would he just see the outward appearance of that mighty elder, tired and worn out, almost dead.
As we landed, I reached over and tapped him to wake him up. As he awoke, it seemed like new life was entering his body. His whole frame just seemed to fill as he stood up, tall and proud. As he turned his face towards mine, I saw a light about his face that I had never seen before. I looked into his eyes. Those eyes, I will never forget those eyes. They were the eyes of a prophet, a leader, a follower, and a servant. They were the eyes of the Savior. No words were spoken. No words were needed.
As we unloaded, I stepped aside to let him go first. I watched as he walked, slow but steady, tired but strong. I followed him and found myself walking the way that he did. When I came through the doors, I saw this young man in the arms of his parents, and I couldn't hold it any longer.
With tears streaming down my face, I watched these loving parents greet their son who had been away for a short time. And I wondered if our parents in Heaven would greet us the same way. Will they wrap their arms around us and welcome us home from our journey on earth? I believe they will. I just hope that I can be worthy enough to receive such praise, as I'm sure this missionary will.
I said a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for missionaries like this young man. I don't think I will ever forget the joy and happiness he brought me that day.
David Bryan Wiser?

Star thrower

There's a story inspired by the writing of Loren Eiseley. Loren was a very special person because he combined the best of two cultures. He was a scientist and a poet. From those two perspectives, he wrote insightfully and beautifully about the world and our role in it.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man, much like Eiseley himself, who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had the habit of walking along the beach before he began his work. One day he was walking along the shore; as he looked down the beach, he saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself to think of someone who would dance to the day, so he began to walk faster to catch up. As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead, he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean.

As he got closer he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?" The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing Starfish into the ocean."

"I guess I should have asked; why are you throwing Starfish into the ocean?"

"The sun is up and the tide is going out and if I don't throw them in they'll die."

"But young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and Starfish all along it, you can't possibly make a difference!"

The young man listened politely, then bent down, picked up another Starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves. "It made a difference for that one."

His response surprised the man, he was upset, he didn't know how to reply, so instead he turned away and walked back to the cottage to begin his writings.

All day long as he wrote, the image of that young man haunted him; he tried to ignore it, but the vision persisted. Finally, late in the afternoon, he realized that he the scientist, he the poet, had missed the essential nature of the young man's actions. Because he realized that what the young man was doing was choosing not to be an observer in the universe and watch it pass by, but was choosing to be an actor in the universe and make a difference. He was embarrassed.

That night he went to bed, troubled. When morning came, he awoke knowing that he had to do something; so he got up, put on his clothes, went to the beach and found the young man; and with him spent the rest of the morning throwing Starfish into the ocean.
You see, what the young man's actions represent is something that is special in each and every one of us. We have all been gifted with the ability to make a difference. And if we can, like the young man, become aware of that gift, we gain through the strength of our vision the power to shape the future.

And that is your challenge, and that is my challenge. We must find our Starfish, and if we throw our stars wisely and well, I have no question that the 21st century is going to be a wonderful place.




Remember:
Vision without action is merely a dream
Action without vision just passes time
Vision with action can change the world






Author: Loren C Eiseley

My Mustang Partner

You see I ride a Mustang and you stop and ask me why,
And as I begin to answer, my eyes well up with pride.
You see, I've looked at other horses with so called bloodlines, breeding and such,
But compared to my partner Abby, they sure don't amount to much.
She's a bit of Americana, folks see it at just one look,
Its somethin' that you feel inside, you won't find it in any book.
"How long'd it take to break her" they ask, "looks like you've had good luck,"
"I didn't break her," I reply, "she accepted me, without one single buck."
No, she doesn't like everything I have to make her do,
But she gets in and does the job, just because I ask her to.
I think God must 'of loved the Mustangs for he made them powerful and wild you see,
They remind me of where I am today, here, in the land of the free.
They're a part of us, what we've been, the heritage of our great nation,
Its a blessing for me to caretake one of God's finest creations.
So when you think of wild horses, don't think of them as food that some dogs eat,
Think of Abby the Police Horse, my partner workin' the streets.
At the end of our days, when we've run out our course,
The good book says the Almighty will return on what else but a horse.
So listen when our Maker returns, he may speak with a bit of a western twang,
‘Cause the beautiful horse he come in on, was once a wild Mustang.
Mounted Sergeant, Phil West

P.U.S.H.

Pray Until Something Happens

(Author Unknown)

A man was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with bright light and the Savior appeared. The Lord told the man He had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. This, the man did, day after day.
For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down with his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might. Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain.
Seeing that the man was showing signs of discouragement, the Adversary decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the man’s weary mind: “You’ve been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn’t budged. Why kill yourself over this? You’re never going to move it” —thus, giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man.
“Why kill myself over this?” he thought. “I’ll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort and that’ll be good enough.” And that’s just what he planned to do— until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. “Lord” he said, “I’ve labored long and hard in Your service, putting all my strength to do that which You’ve asked. Yet, after all this time, I haven’t even budged that rock by half a millimeter. What’s wrong? Why am I failing?”
The Lord responded compassionately,

“My friend, when I asked you to serve Me— you accepted. I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength— which you’ve done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come to Me— with your strength spent, thinking that you’ve failed. But is that really so?”
“Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscular. Your back sinew is mighty. Your hands are callused from the constant pressure;and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you’ve grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven’t moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you’ve done. I, my friend, will now move the rock.”

At times, when we hear from God, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants. What God ACTUALLY wants is just simple OBEDIENCE and FAITH IN HIM. By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but know that it’s still God who moves the mountains.
P.U.S.H. = Pray Until Something Happens!
When everything seems to go wrong, just P.U.S.H.
When the job gets you down, P.U.S.H.
When people don’t react the way you think they should, P.U.S.H.
When your money looks funny and the bills are due, P.U.S.H.
When people just don’t understand you, just P.U.S.H.

TAPS

If any of you have ever been to a military funeral in which taps were played; this brings out a new meaning of it.

We in the United States have all heard the haunting song, "Taps". It's the song that gives us that lump in our throats and usually tears in our eyes.

But, do you know the story behind the song?

If not, I think you will be interested to find out about its humble beginnings.

Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land.

During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention.

Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment.

When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.

The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock . In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army.

The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted.

The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate.

But, out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician.

The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted.



The haunting melody, we now know as "Taps" used at military funerals was born.

The words are:

Day is done

Gone the sun

From the lakes

From the hills

From the sky

All is well

Safely rest

God is nigh

Fading light

Dims the sight

And a star

Gems the sky

Gleaming bright

From afar

Drawing nigh

Falls the night





Thanks and praise

For our days

Neath the sun

Neath the stars

Neath the sky

As we go

This we know

God is nigh

Let me have the courage to believe in myself

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Let me have the courage to believe in myself
Not only on the days when I'm going great and nothing seems impossible,
But on the days when the world looks lousy and I'm losing.
And the road ahead seems too hard;
When I wonder if I'm brave enough, smart enough,
Strong enough, and I must be crazy if I try
Don't let me quit - Let me have courage in myself.
No matter how many people discourage me, doubt,
Laugh at me, warn me, think me a fool...
Don't let me listen. Let me hear another voice saying,
"You can do it,"... and, "You will."
If no one else in the world cares or believes in me...
Let me have the courage to believe in myself!

Dime among pennies

Oliver Wendell Holmes once attended a meeting in which he was the shortest man present.

"Dr. Holmes," quipped a friend, "I should think you'd feel rather small among us big fellows."

"I do," retorted Holmes, "I feel like a dime among a lot of pennies."

And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

Antoine de Saint Exupery

YOU TELL ON YOURSELF

YOU TELL ON YOURSELF
YOU TELL ON YOURSELF BY THE FRIENDS THAT YOU SEEK,
BY THE VERY MANNER IN WHICH YOU SPEAK,
BY THE WAY YOU EMPLOY YOUR LEISURE TIME,
BY THE USE YOU MAKE OF DOLLAR AND DIME.

YOU TELL WHAT YOU ARE BY THE THINGS YOU WEAR.
BY THE SPIRIT IN WHICH YOUR BURDENS YOU BEAR,
BY THE KIND OF THINGS AT WHICH YOU LAUGH,
BY THE MUSIC YOU PLAY ON THE PHONOGRAPH.

YOU TELL WHAT YOU ARE BY THE WAY YOU WALK
BY THE THINGS OF WHICH YOU LIKE TO TALK,
BY THE MANNER IN WHICH YOU BEAR DEFEAT,
BY SO SIMPLE A THING AS HOW YOU EAT.

BY THE BOOKS YOU CHOOSE
FROM THE SELL-FILLED SHELF;
SO THERE'S REALLY NO PARTICLE OF SENCE
IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP UP A FALSE PRETENSE

Real Mothers

Real Mothers don't eat quiche;

They don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils

Are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors,

Filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough

Doesn't come out of carpets..

Real Mothers don't want to know what

The vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?'

And get their answer when a little

Voice says, 'Because I love you best.'

Real Mothers know that a child's growth

Is not measured by height or years or grade...

It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother...

The Joy of Womanhood

This is one of the best talks I will never forget!

The Joy of Womanhood!

Why God created little girls

Author Unknown

God made the world with towering trees,
Majestic mountains and restless seas.
Then paused and said , "It needs one more thing...
Someone to laugh and dance and sing.
To walk in the wood and gather flowers...
To commune with nature in quiet hours."

So God made little girls
With laughing eyes and bouncing curls,
With joyful hearts and infectious smiles,
Enchanting ways and feminine wiles.
And when He'd completed the task He'd begun.
He was pleased and proud of the job He'd done.
For the world, when seen through little girl's eyes
Greatly resembled Paradise.

Images of Mother

The Images of Mother

4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!

8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!

12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.

14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.

16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.

18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!

25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it!

35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.

45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?

65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

What did I do today?

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog.
Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing.

In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.
He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened.
He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.
As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel.
She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.
He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"
She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world did I do today?"
"Yes," was his incredulous reply.
She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the county Clerk's office was
asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated,
uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained the
recorder, "do you have a job or are you just a...?" "Of course I have a
job," snapped the woman. "I'm a Mom." "We don't list 'Mom' as an
occupation, "housewife covers it," said the recorder emphatically. I
forgot all about her story until one day..I found myself in the same
situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a
career woman, poised, efficient and possessed of a high sounding title
like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar." "What is your
occupation?" she probed.


What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out.


*"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations."*The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked
up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly
emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my
pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official
questionnaire.


"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in
your field?"


Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply,
"I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't) in the
laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and
out). I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family) and already
have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most
demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often
work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more
challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more
of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door.



As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I
was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could
hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child
development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had
scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as
someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just
another Mom." Motherhood! What a glorious career! Especially when
there's a title on the door. Does this make grandmothers "Senior
Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations" and great grandmothers Executive Senior Research Associates"?
I think so!!! I also think it makes Aunts "Associate Research
Assistants. Please send this to another Mom, Grandmother, Aunt, and
other friends you know. May your troubles be less, your blessings be
more and nothing but happiness come through your door

52 jobs of a mom