Inspirational

Updated 04-15-01

Every now and then I run across, or someone sends me, something that is, well, inspirational. You will find this material here. (This is definitely an attempt to make up for that "other stuff" on this site. <grin>) If you have something to contribute to this page, send it to me via E-mail micheal@greatguy.com   A photo copy will do as well, just let me know. If you are the author of the material please let me know so it can be noted. Contributed by indicates the person I got it from not necessarily the author.

A man found a cocoon of a butterly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no further.

So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily but, it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly. 

What the man, in his kindenss and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!

Contributed by Roger

When the door of happiness closes, another opens, but often times we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which has been opened for us.

The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.

 It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

 Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they'll love you back!  Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart but if it doesn't, be content it grew in yours.

It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

Don't go for looks; they can deceive. Don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.  Find the one that makes your heart smile.

There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real!

Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be,> because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

 Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear.

When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

Contributed by Peggy

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the basement shack with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it.

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whoever he was talking with something about "a thousand marbles"

I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say. "Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much.

Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital."

He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years."

"Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime.

Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part."

"It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."

"So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away."

"I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time.

And the one thing we can all use is a little more time."

"It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. 75 year Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."

"What brought this on?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles."

Contributed by Tim Baird

*this is a true story*

There was a fairly young boy, about age twenty, that called his mother after a war. He explained that he had a friend that was badly mangled in the war, and had no family to turn to. He asked if his friend could come home with him, but explained that he was missing an arm, a leg, a few fingers and his face was badly mangled. Without hesitation, the mother agreed, saying he could stay with the family for a few days, to which the son replied "no mom, he has to live with us". The mother said that it was fine with her if he stayed until he was nurtured back to health, but feared what her friends at the country club would say when they found out about someone that messed up living with her. The son again said "no mother you do not understand, he can not go home, he has no other place to go." The mother again said no, and this time with anger in her voice. The phone line went dead. A few hours later while at the country club talking with friends, a police man came up to the boys mother. he showed her a picture of her child and asked if it was in fact her boy. She began to fear the upcoming news, and as the police officer spoke, she went numb. he explained that while driving on the road, he came across a body at the side of the road. He said the person he uncovered was missing one arm, one leg, a few fingers and his face was in bad shape, and had put a bullet through his head. He then pulled a wallet out of a bag and handed to the lady. She fell to the ground realizing it was her son's wallet. He had killed himself because of his mothers actions. He called pretending he had a mangled friend when really it was he who was mangled, and when his mother turned him down, he feared that if she found out it was him, her love of him would fade. He sacrificed himself so his mother would not have to see his wounds.

Author Unknown

Contributed by Erika

Tomorrow Is Not Promised 

Sometimes people come into your life
and you know right away that they were meant to be there,
they serve some sort of purpose,
teach you a lesson
or help figure out who you are
and who you want to become.

You never know who these people may be:
your neighbor, child, long lost friend, lover, or even a complete stranger
who, when you lock eyes with them,
you know at that very moment that they will affect your life
in some profound way.

And sometimes things happen to you
and at the time they seem painful and unfair,
but in reflection you realize
that without overcoming those obstacles
you would have never realized
your potential strength, will power, or heart.

Everything happens for a reason.
Nothing happens by chance
or by means of good or bad luck.
Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness and sheer stupidity
all occur to test the limits of your soul.

Without these small tests,
whether they be events, illnesses or relationships,
life would be like a smoothly paved straight flat road to nowhere,
safe and comfortable,
but dull and utterly pointless.

The people you meet who affect your life
and the successes and downfalls you experience
create who you are,
and even the bad experiences can be learned from,
In fact, they are probably the poignant and important ones.

If someone hurts you, betrays you or breaks your heart,
forgive them,
for they have helped you learn about trust
and the importance of being cautious to
whom you open your heart...

If someone loves you,
love them back unconditionally,
not only because they love you,
but because they are teaching you to love
and opening your heart and eyes to things
you would have never seen or felt without them.

Make every day count.
Appreciate every moment
and take from it everything that you possibly can,
for you may never be able to experience it again...

Talk to people you have never talked to before,
and actually listen,
let yourself fall in love,
break free and set your sights high...

Hold your head up
because you have every right too.
Tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself...
for if you don't believe in yourself,
no one else will believe in you either.
You can make of your life anything you wish.

Create your own life
and then go out and live in it!
"Live Each Day As If It Were Your Last...
Tomorrow is Not Promised"

Author Unknown

Contributed by Heinz

Anna Quindlen

Villanova Commencement Address, 1999

It's a great honor for me to be the third member of my family to receive an honorary doctorate from this great university.  It's an honor to follow my great-uncle Jim, who was a gifted physician, and my Uncle Jack, who is a remarkable businessman.  Both of them could have told you something important about their professions, about medicine or commerce. I have no specialized field of interest or expertise, which puts me at a disadvantage, talking to you today.  I'm a novelist.  My work is human nature.  Real life is all I know.

Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work.  The second is only part of the first.  Don't ever forget what a friend once wrote to Senator Paul Tsongas when the senator decided not to run for reelection because he'd been diagnosed with cancer:  "No man ever said on his deathbed, I wish I had spent more time in the office."  Don't ever forget the words my father sent me on a postcard last year:  "If you win the rat race, you're still a rat."  Or what John Lennon wrote before he was gunned down in the driveway of the Dakota:  "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans."

You walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has.  There will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree; there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living.  But you will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life.  Your particular life.  Your entire life.  Not just your life at a desk, or your life on a bus, or in a car, or at the computer.  Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart.  Not just your bank account, but your soul.

People don't talk about the soul very much anymore. It's so much easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit.  But a resume is a cold comfort on a winter night, or when you're sad, or broke, or lonely, or when you've gotten back the test results and they're not so good.

Here is my resume:

I am a good mother to three children.  I have tried never to let my profession stand in the way of being a good parent.  I no longer consider myself the center of the universe.  I show up. I listen. I try to laugh.  I am a good friend to my husband.  I have tried to make marriage vows mean what they say. I show up.  I listen.  I try to laugh. I am a good friend to my friends, and they to me.  Without them, there would be nothing to say to you today, because I would be a cardboard cutout.  But I call them on the phone, and I meet them for lunch.  I show up.  I listen.  I try to laugh.  I would be rotten, or at best mediocre at my job, if those other things were not true.  You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you are.

So here's what I wanted to tell you today:  get a life.  A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house.  Do you think you'd care so very much about those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon, or found a lump in your breast? Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself on a breeze over Seaside Heights, a life in which you stop and watch how a red tailed hawk circles over the water, or the way a baby scowls with concentration when she tries to pick up a Cheerio with her thumb and first finger.

Get a life in which you are not alone.  Find people you love, and who love you.  And remember that love is not leisure, it is work.

Each time you look at your diploma, remember that you are still a student, still learning how to best treasure your connection to others. Pick up the phone.  Send an e-mail.  Write a letter.  Kiss your Mom. Hug your Dad.  Get a life in which you are generous.  Look around at the azaleas in the suburban neighborhood where you grew up; look at a full moon hanging silver in a black, black sky on a cold night.  And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you have no business taking it for granted.

Care so deeply about its goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have spent on beers and give it to charity.  Work in a soup kitchen.  Be a big brother or sister.  All of you want to do well.  But if you do not do good, too, then doing well will never be enough.  It is so easy to waste our lives, our days, our hours, our  minutes.  It is so easy to take for granted the color of the azaleas, the sheen of the limestone on Fifth Avenue, the color of our kids' eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again.  It is so easy to exist instead of live.

I learned to live many years ago.  Something really, really bad happened to me, something that changed my life in ways that, if I had my druthers, it would never have been changed at all.  And what I learned from it is what, today, seems to be the hardest lesson of all.  I learned to love the journey, not the destination.  I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that today is the only guarantee you get.  I learned to look at all the good in the world and to try to give some of it back because I believed in it completely and utterly.

And I tried to do that, in part, by telling others what I had learned. By telling them this:  Consider the lilies of the field.  Look at the fuzz on a baby's ear.  Read in the backyard with the sun on your face. Learn to be happy.  And think of life as a terminal illness because if you do you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be lived.

Well, you can learn all those things, out there, if you get a real life, a full life, a professional life, yes, but another life, too; a life of love and laughs and a connection to other human beings.  Just keep your eyes and ears open.  Here you could learn in the classroom. There the classroom is everywhere. The exam comes at the very end.  No man ever said on his deathbed, I wish I had spent more time at the office.

I found one of my best teachers on the boardwalk at Coney Island maybe 15 years ago.  It was December, and I was doing a story about how the homeless survive in the winter months.  He and I sat on the edge of the wooden supports, dangling our feet over the side, and he told me about his schedule, panhandling the boulevard when the summer crowds were gone, sleeping in a church when the temperature went below freezing, hiding from the police amidst the Tilt-a-Whirl and the Cyclone and some of the other seasonal rides.  But he told me that most of the time he stayed on the boardwalk, facing the water, just the way we were sitting now even when it got cold and he had to wear his newspapers after he read them.

And I asked him why.  Why didn't he go to one of the shelters?  Why didn't he check himself into the hospital for detox?  And he just stared out at the ocean and said, "Look at the view, young lady. Look at the view."

And every day, in some little way, I try to do what he said.  I try to look at the view.  And that's the last thing I have to tell you today, words of wisdom from a man with not a dime in his pocket, no place to go, nowhere to be.  Look at the view.

You'll never be disappointed.

Contributed by Roger Curry

My first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor.  Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer.  The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.  I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone!  Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing.  Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.  "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.  A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information" "I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone.  The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?"  the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked.  I said I could.  "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything.  I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was.  She helped me with my math.  She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just he day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died.  I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story.  She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child.  But I was unconsoled.  I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."  Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone.  "Information Please."

"Information," said the now familiar voice.

"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest.  When I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston.  I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I
somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the
table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.  Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then.  I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle.  I had about half an hour or so between planes.  I spent 15
minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now.  Then
without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and
said, "Information, Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information."

I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause.  Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed.  "So it's really still you," I said.  "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time."

"I wonder", she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said.  "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle.  A different voice answered
"Information."

I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?"  She said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, she said.  Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick.  She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute.  Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you.  She wrote it down in case you called.   Let me read it to you."

The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up.  I knew what Sally meant.

Anonymous

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Contributed by Huggy Bare in Marcola 

1. It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is more painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let that person know how you feel.

2. Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one so that when we finally meet the right person, we will know how to be grateful for that gift.

3. Love is when you take away the feeling, the passion, and the romance in a relationship- and find out you still care for that person.

4. When the door of happiness closes, another opens but oftentimes we look so long at the closed door that we don't see the one which has been opened for us.

5. The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.

6. It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

7. Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they'll love you back! don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart but if it doesn't, be content it grew in yours.

8. There are things you'd love to hear that you would never hear from the person whom you would like to hear them from, but don't be so deaf as not to hear it from the one who says it from his heart.

9. Never say good-bye if you still want to try - never give up if you still feel you can go on - never say you don't love a person anymore if you can't let go.

10. Love comes to those who still hope although they've been disappointed- to those who still believe although they've been betrayed, need to love those who still love although they've been hurt before.

11. It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone and a day to love someone - but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

12. Don't go for looks; they can deceive. Don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Hope you find the one that makes you smile.

13. There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real! Hope you dream of that special someone.

14. Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.

15. May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, and enough hope to make you happy.

16. Always put yourself in others' shoes. If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the person, too.

17. A careless word may kindle strife; a cruel word may wreck a life; a timely word may level stress; a loving word may heal and bless.

18. The beginning of love is to let those we love be just themselves, and not twist them with our own image - otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

19. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

20. Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.

21. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear.

22. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past, you can't go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

23. When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

Contributed by Ericgator

I woke up early today, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight. I have responsibilities to fulfill today. 

I am important. My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.

Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.

Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.

Today I can grumble about my health or I can rejoice that I am alive.

Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't give me when I was growing up or I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.

Today I can cry because roses have thorns or I can celebrate that thorns have roses.

Today I can mourn my lack of friends or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.

Today I can whine because I have to go to work or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do.

Today I can complain because I have to go to school or eagerly open my mind and fill it with rich new tidbits of knowledge.

Today I can murmur dejectedly because I have to do housework or I can feel honored because the Lord has provided shelter for my mind, body and soul.

Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped. And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping. What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!

Contributed by Ericgator

Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son.  We were standing in line,waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did.

I did not move an inch...an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved.  As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling". His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance.  He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend.  I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue eyed gentleman was his salvation.

I held my tears as I stood there with them. The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something.  He just wanted to be warm).

Then I really felt it - the  compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes.  That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said,  "Thank you."

I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you. God is here working through me to give you hope." I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son.  When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, Honey.  To give me hope."

We held hands for a moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give.  We are not church goers, but we are believers.  That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.

I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it. Then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?"  I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share this need to heal people and be healed.

In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student.

I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn:  UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.  Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS - NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE.

Contributed by Tim Baird

Contributed by Granny

She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body." All this happened long ago -- and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."
(1 Samuel 16:7b)

Contributed by Tim Baird

It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down pat. It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky experience. Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em." Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other.

There was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life:  my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside. Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.

"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby. Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.

S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.

Contributed by Hazcat101

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We are all cracked pots. But if we will allow it, our "flaws" are used to grace life's table. In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste. Don't be afraid of your flaws. Acknowledge them, and you too can be the cause of beauty. Know that in our weakness we find our strength.

Contributed by Shirl

Contributed by Shirl

"Once in a while you meet someone, and soon you both discover the two of you are truly something special to each other. . .You share your thoughts and feelings so relaxed, so openly, and right away you know your friendship's truly meant to be."

It's not about how many friends you have or how accepted you are. And not about if you have plans this weekend or if you're alone. It isn't about who you're dating, who you used to date, how many people you've dated, or if you haven't been with anyone at all.

It isn't about who you have kissed. It's not about sex. It isn't about who your family is or how much money they have. Or what kind of car you drive. Or where you were sent to school. It's not about how beautiful or ugly you are. Or what clothes you wear, what shoes you have on, or what kind of music you listen to.

It's not about if your hair is blonde, red, black, or brown or if your skin is too light or too dark. Not about what grades you got, how smart you are, how smart everybody else thinks you are, or how smart standardized tests say you are. It's not about what clubs you're in or how good you are at "your" sport.

It's not about representing your whole being on a piece of paper and seeing who will "accept the written you." But, life is about who you love and who you hurt. It's about who you make happy or unhappy purposefully.

It's about keeping or betraying trust. It's about friendship, used as a sanctity or a weapon. It's about what you say and mean, maybe hurtful, maybe heartening. About starting rumors and contributing to petty gossip. It's about what judgments you pass and why. And who your judgments are spread to. It's about who you've ignored with full control and intention.

It's about jealousy, fear, ignorance, and revenge. It's about carrying inner hate and love, letting it grow, and spreading it. But most of all, it's about using your life to touch or poison other people's hearts in such a way that could have never occurred alone. Only you choose the way those hearts are affected, and those choices are what life's all about.

Contributed by Shirl

Contributed by Timmy Baird

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work.

He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter.

"This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."

What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project."

Who could say it more clearly? Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.

-- author unknown

.........Hence a GreatGuy web site...........

Contributed by Granny

I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called "Smile." The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway.....so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake, literally.

Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's, one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special play time with our son. We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch......an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved.

As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell........ and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling". His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching.

The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue eyed gentle man was his salvation. I held my tears....as I stood there with them. The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something......he just wanted to be warm).

Then I really felt it...... the compulsion as so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me.....judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray.

I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you." I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you..........God is here working through me to give you hope."

I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, Honey......to give me hope."

We held hands for a moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give. We are not church goers but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.

I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand.

I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it....then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?" I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share this need to heal people and be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn........

UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.

Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS - NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE.

If you think this story has touched you in any way, please send this to everyone you know.

May God bless you.

Contributed by Angel

A little long, but so sweet..... On a December night in Chicago several years ago, a little girl climbed onto her father's lap and asked a question. It was a simple question, asked in children's curiosity, yet it had a heart-rending effect on Robert May.

"Daddy," four-year old Barbara asked, "Why isn't my Mommy just like everybody else's mommy?"

Bob May stole a glance across his shabby two room apartment. On a couch lay his young wife, Evelyn, racked with cancer. For two years she had been bedridden; for two years, all Bob's income and smaller savings had gone to pay for treatments and medicines.

The terrible ordeal already had shattered two adult lives. Now Bob suddenly realized the happiness of his growing daughter was also in jeopardy. As he ran his fingers through Barbara's hair, he prayed for some satisfactory answer to her question.

Bob May knew only too well what it meant to be "different." As a child he had been weak and delicate. With the innocent cruelty of children, his playmates had continually goaded the stunted, skinny lad to tears. Later at Dartmouth, from which he was graduated in 1926, Bob May was so small that he was always being mistaken for someone's little brother.

Nor was his adult life much happier. Unlike many of his classmates who floated from college into plush jobs, Bob became a lowly copy writer for Montgomery Ward, the big Chicago mail order house. Now at 33 Bob was deep in debt, depressed and sad.

Although Bob did not know it at the time, the answer he gave the tousled haired child on his lap was to bring him to fame and fortune. It was also to bring joy to countless thousands of children like his own Barbara. On that December night in the shabby Chicago apartment, Bob cradled his little girl's head against his shoulder and began to tell a story...

"Once upon a time there was a reindeer named Rudolph, the only reindeer in the world that had a big red nose. Naturally people called him Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." As Bob went on to tell about Rudolph, he tried desperately to communicate to Barbara the knowledge that, even though some creatures of God are strange and different, they often enjoy the miraculous power to make others happy.

Rudolph, Bob explained, was terribly embarrassed by his unique nose. Other reindeer laughed at him; his mother and father and sister were mortified too. Even Rudolph wallowed in self pity.

"Well," continued Bob, "one Christmas Eve, Santa Claus got his team of husky reindeer -Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixon ready for their yearly trip around the world. The entire reindeer community assembled to cheer these great heroes on their way. But a terrible fog engulfed the earth that evening, and Santa knew that the mist was so thick he wouldn't be able to find any chimney.

Suddenly Rudolph appeared, his red nose glowing brighter than ever. Santa sensed at once that here was the answer to his perplexing problem. He led Rudolph to the front of the sleigh, fastened the harness and climbed in. They were off! Rudolph guided Santa safely to every chimney that night. Rain and fog, snow and sleet; nothing bothered Rudolph, for his bright nose penetrated the mist like a beacon.

And so it was that Rudolph became the most famous and beloved of all the reindeer. The huge red nose he once hid in shame was now the envy of every buck and doe in the reindeer world. Santa Claus told everyone that Rudolph had saved the day and from that Christmas, Rudolph has been living serenely and happy."

Little Barbara laughed with glee when her father finished. Every night she begged him to repeat the tale until finally Bob could rattle it off in his sleep. Then, at Christmas time he decided to make the story into a poem like "The Night Before Christmas" and prepare it in bookish form illustrated with pictures, for Barbara's personal gift. Night after night, Bob worked on the verses after Barbara had gone to bed for he was determined his daughter should have a worthwhile gift, even though he could not afford to buy one...

Then as Bob was about to put the finishing touches on Rudolph, tragedy struck. Evelyn May died. Bob, his hopes crushed, turned to Barbara as chief comfort. Yet, despite his grief, he sat at his desk in the quiet, now lonely apartment, and worked on "Rudolph" with tears in his eyes.

Shortly after Barbara had cried with joy over his handmade gift on Christmas morning, Bob was asked to an employee's holiday party at Montgomery Wards. He didn't want to go, but his office associates insisted. When Bob finally agreed, he took with him the poem and read it to the crowd. First the noisy throng listened in laughter and gaiety. Then they became silent, and at the end, broke into spontaneous applause. That was in 1938.

By Christmas of 1947, some 6,000,000 copies of the booklet had been given away or sold, making Rudolph one of the most widely distributed books in the world.

The demand for Rudolph sponsored products, increased so much in variety and number that educators and historians predicted Rudolph would come to occupy a permanent place in the Christmas legend.

Through the years of unhappiness, the tragedy of his wife's death and his ultimate success with Rudolph, Bob May has captured a sense of serenity. And as each Christmas rolls around he recalls with thankfulness the night when his daughter, Barbara's questions inspired him to write the story.

Contributed by Anthony Irvin Sr.

Paul received an automobile from his brother as a Christmas present.

On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. "Is this your car, Mister?" he asked. Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded. "You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost you nothing? Boy, I wish..." He hesitated.

Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels.

"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."

Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?" "Oh yes, I'd love that."

After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?" Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he got a ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again.

"Will you stop where those two steps are?" the boy asked. He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car. "There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And some day I'm gonna give you one just like it...then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."

Paul got out and lifted the lad to the front seat of his car. The shining-eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.

That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said: "It is more blessed to give..." My Holiday Wish for the World Is That We all Could Be Brothers Like That.

Contributed by Penguinslc

The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.

Contributed by lilbs10

Remember, November 11th is Veterans Day.

"It is the soldier, not the reporter,
Who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet,
Who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer,
Who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier,
Who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protestor to burn the flag."

Father Denis Edward O'Brien, USMC

Contributed by Lisa in Las Vegas

Contributed by gooserock

Contributed by Penguinslc

Contributed by Tim Baird