This page will be dedicated to you my dear friends, you have to build it. like the page for testimonies, special experiences and jokes.  I post this page for the best talk, or lesson, or whatever that I will receive, that it means that not all will be posted but only the more spiritual and interesting, it is your task to maintain it updated.

Table of Contents

A Perfect Mistake
Author Unknown

Mother's father worked as a carpenter.  On this  particular day, he was
building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to some
orphanage in China.  On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket
to find his glasses, but they were gone.  When he mentally replayed his
earlier actions, he realized what happened; the glasses had slipped out
of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had
nailed shut.  His brand new glasses were heading for C

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The Great Depression was at it's height and Grandpa had six children. He
had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning.  He was upset by the
thought of having to buy another pair.  "It's not fair," he told God as
he drove home in frustration.  "I've been very faithful in giving of my
time and money to your work, and now this.  "Several months later, the
director   of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States.  He
wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in China, so he came
to speak one Sunday at my grandfather's small church in Chicago.

The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in
supporting the orphanage.  "But most of all," he said, "I must thank you
for the glasses you sent last year.  You see, the Communists had just
swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my
glasses.  I was desperate.  Even if I had the money, there was
simply no way of replacing those glasses.  Along with not being able to
see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were
much in prayer about
this.Then your crates arrived.  When my staff removed the covers, they
found a pair of glasses lying on top. The missionary paused long enough
to let his words sink in.  Then, still gripped with the wonder of it
all, he continued: "Folks, when I tried on the glasses, it was as though
they had been custom-made just for me!  I want to thank you for being a
part of that."

The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses.  But the
missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they
thought.  There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent
overseas.  But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down
his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used
him
in an extraordinary way.

A man who had previously been a sailor, was very aware that ships are
addressed as "she" and "her". He often wondered what gender computers
should
be addressed. To answer that question, he set up two groups of computer
experts. The first was comprised of women, and the second of men.
Each
group was asked to recommend whether computers should be referred to in
the
feminine gender or the masculine gender. They were asked to give 4
reasons
for their recommendation.

The group of women reported that the computers should be referred to in
the
masculine gender because:
1. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on.
2. They have a lot of data, but are still clueless.
3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they
are
the problem.
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a
little
longer you could have had a better model.

The men, on the other hand concluded that Computers should be referred
to in
the feminine gender because:
1. No one but the Creator understands their internal logic.
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is
incomprehensible to everyone else.
3. Even your smallest mistakes are stored in long-term memory for later
retrieval.
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending
half
your paycheck on accessories for it.

There once was a King who offered a prize to the
artist who would paint the best picture of peace.
Many artists tried. The King looked at all
the pictures, but there were only two he really
liked and he had to choose between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a
perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains were
all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white
clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a
perfect picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains too. But these
were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which
rain fell, and in which lightening played. Down the side
of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did
not look peaceful at all. But when the King looked,
he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a
crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built
her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water,
sat the mother bird on her nest...........
perfect peace.

The King chose the second picture. "Because,"
explained the King, "peace does not mean to be in a place
where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work.
Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and
still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning
of peace.

Heaven and Hell - The Real Difference

        A man spoke with the Lord about heaven and hell. The Lord said
  to the man, "Come, I will show you hell." They entered a room where a
  group of people sat around a huge pot of stew. Everyone was famished,
  desperate and starving. Each held a spoon that reached the pot, but
  each spoon had a handle so much longer than their own arm that it
  could not be used to get the stew into their own mouths. The suffering
  was terrible.

        "Come, now I will show you heaven," the Lord said after a while.
  They entered another room, identical to the first - the pot of stew,
  the group of people, the same long-handled spoons. But there everyone
  was happy and well-nourished.

        "I don't understand," said the man. "Why are they happy here
  when they were miserable in the other room and everything was the
  same?"

        The Lord smiled, "Ah, it is simple," he said. "here they have
  learned to feed each other."

A Child's Angel

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born.
So one day he asked God:

"They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I
going to live there being so small and helpless?"

"Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting
for you and will take care of you. "

"But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and
smile, that's enough for me to be happy."

"Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day.
And you will feel your angel's love and be happy."

"And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to
me, if I don't know the language that men talk?"

"Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you
will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will
teach you how to speak."

"And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you? "
"Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you
how to pray. "

"I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"
"Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life. "
"But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."
"Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you
the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always
be next to you."

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from
earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:

"Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name"
"Your angel's name is of no importance, you will call your angel:
"Mommy"

A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find
his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door. "Daddy, may I ask you
a question?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man. "Daddy, how much money do
you make an hour?"

"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the
man said angrily.

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?"
pleaded the little boy.

"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."

"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said,
"Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"

The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how
much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy
or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room
and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long,
hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man
sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's
questioning. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money.

After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he
may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he
really needed to buy with that $10.00 and he really didn't ask for
money very often.

The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

"Are you asleep, son?" he asked. "No daddy, I'm awake," replied the
boy.

"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the
man.

"It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's
that $10.00 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you, daddy!" he
yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up
bills.

The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry
again.

The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the
man.

"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father
grumbled.

"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.

"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"

Share this story with someone you like...but even better, share
$20.00 worth of time with someone you love.

It is a good thing to be rich.
It is a good thing to be strong,
but it is a better thing to be loved
by many friends.

My Dear Friend,
As you got up this morning, I watched you and hoped you would
talk to me even if it was just a few words, asking my opinion or
thanking me for something good that happened in your life yesterday,
but I noticed you were
too busy trying to find the right outfit to put on and wear to school.
I waited again.
When you ran around the house getting ready I knew there would
be a few minutes for you to stop and say hello, but you were too busy.
At one point you had to wait fifteen minutes with nothing to do
except sit in a chair. Then I saw you spring to your feet. I thought you
wanted to talk to me but you ran to the phone and called a friend to
get the latest gossip. I watched as you went to work and I waited
patiently all day  long.
I guess you were too busy to say anything to me with all your
activities.
I noticed that before lunch you looked around. Maybe you felt
embarrassed to talk to me, that is why you didn't bow your head.
You glanced
three or four tables over and you noticed some of your friends talking
to me briefly before they ate, but you didn't. That's okay. There
was still more time left,
  and I have hope that you would talk to me. Even yet
you went home and it seemed as if you had lots of things to do. After
a few of them were done you turned on the TV.
I don't know if I like TV or not, just about
anything goes there & you spend a lot of time each day in front of it
not thinking  about anything-just enjoying the show.
I waited patiently again as you watched TV and ate your meal
but again you didn't talk to me. As you did your homework I waited
again-you did what you had to do. At bedtime I guess you felt too
tired. After you said goodnight to your family, you plopped into bed
and fell asleep in no time.
That's okay because you may not realize that I am always there
for you. I've got patience more than you will ever know. I even want
to teach you
how to be patient with others as well. Because I love you so much, a
long time ago I left a wonderful place called Heaven and came to
Earth. I gave it up so
that I could be ridiculed. I even died so you wouldn't have to take
my place. I love you so much that I wait everyday for a nod, prayer,
a thought, or even a thankful part of your heart. It is hard to have
a one-sided conversation.
Well, you are getting up again and once again I will wait with
nothing but love for you, hoping that today you will give me some
time. Just a minute or two to show me that you also care for me.

Your loving friend,
Jesus

Shake It Off And Step Up

A parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule.
The mule fell into the farmer's well. The farmer
heard the mule 'braying' - or - whatever mules do
when they fall into wells. After carefully assessing
the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule,
but decided that neither the mule nor the well was
worth the trouble of saving. Instead, he called
his neighbors together and told them what had
happened...and enlisted them to help haul dirt to
bury the old mule in the well and put him out of
his misery.

Initially, the old mule was hysterical! But as the
farmer and his neighbors continued shoveling and
the dirt hit his back...a thought struck him. It
suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel
load of dirt landed on his back...HE SHOULD
SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP! This he did,
blow after blow.

"Shake it off and step up...shake it off and step
up...shake it off and step up!" he repeated to
encourage himself. No matter how painful the
blows, or distressing the situation seemed the old
mule fought "panic" and just kept right on SHAKING
IT OFF AND STEPPING UP!

You're right! It wasn't long before the old mule,
battered and exhausted, STEPPED TRIUMPHANTLY
OVER THE WALL OF THAT WELL! What seemed
like it would bury him, actually blessed him...all because
of the manner in which he handled his adversity.

THAT'S LIFE! If we face our problems and respond to
them positively, and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness,
or self-pity...THE ADVERSITIES THAT COME ALONG
TO BURY US USUALLY HAVE WITHIN THEM THE
POTENTIAL TO BENEFIT AND BLESS US!
Remember that FORGIVENESS--FAITH--PRAYER--
PRAISE and HOPE...all are excellent ways to "SHAKE
IT OFF AND STEP UP" out of the wells in which we find
ourselves!

This story reminded me of life. The dirt is a symbolism of the tests
and trials that we go threw in life. The stepping up is the symbolism
of growing and learning from our life experiences.

The Important Things Life Teaches You...

1 Most Important Question
During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave usa pop
quiz.
I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions,
until
I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans
the
school?" Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning
woman
several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would
I
know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank.
Before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count
toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor. "In your
careers
you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your
attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say 'hello'. "I've
never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

2 Pickup in the Rain

One night, at 11:30 PM, an older African American woman was standing on
the
side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rain storm. Her
car
had broken down and she desperately needed a ride. Soaking wet, she
decided
to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her -
generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her
to
safety. Helped her get assistance and put her into a taxi cab. She
seemed to be in a big hurry! She wrote down his address, thanked him
and
drove away. Seven days went by and a knock came on the man's door. To
his
surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special
note was attached. It read: "Thank you so much for assisting me on the
highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes but my
spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to
my
dying husband's bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for
helping me and unselfishly serving others."Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King
Cole


3 Always remember those who serve

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year old boy
entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass
of
water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?" "Fifty
cents,"
replied the waitress. The little boy pulled hish and out of his pocket
and
studied a number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain ice
cream?"
he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress
was
a bit impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely. The little
boy
again counted the coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The
waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked
away.
The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed. When the
waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed
hard
at
what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two
nickels
and five pennies - her tip.

4 The Obstacle in Our Path

In ancient times, a king had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he
hidhimself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock.
Some
of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply
walked
around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear,
but
none did anything about getting the big stone out of the way. Then a
peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. On approaching the
boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone
to
the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally
succeeded. As the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed
a
purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained
many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was
for
the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant
learned
what many others never understand. Every obstacle presents an
opportunity
to improve one's condition.



5 Giving Blood

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at Stanford Hospital, I
got
to
know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious
disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion
from
her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease
and
had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor
explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the boy if he
would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate
for
only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it
if
it will save Liz." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next
to
his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her
cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at
the
doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right
away?"
Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor; he though he was
going to have to give his sister all of his blood. Attitude, after all, is
everything.

The Art Collector
Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son,
shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the
world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection.
Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the
walls of the family estate. The widowed elder man looked on with
satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The
son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with
pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.
As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to
serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a
telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector
anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again.
Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while
rushing a fellow soldier to a medic. Distraught and lonely, the old man
faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy
of the season- a season that he and his son had so looked forward
to-would visit his house no longer.
On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old
man.
As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only
reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he
was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand.
He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a friend of your
son.
I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few
moments? I have something to show you." As the two began to talk, the
solider told of how the man's son had told everyone of his-not to
mention
his father's-love of fine art. "I'm an artist," said the soldier, "and I
want to give you this.
"As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a
portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the
work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking
detail. Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to
hang the picture above the fireplace.
A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about
his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace,
pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in
his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.
During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even
though his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on
because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had
rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring
heart. As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him,
fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting
of
his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any
interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He
told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.
The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art
world was in anticipation. With the collector's passing, and his only
son dead, those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the
will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on
Christmas
Day, the day he had received his greatest gift.
The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered
to
bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be
fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim "I
have the greatest collection." The auction began with a painting that
was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son. The
auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent.
"Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked. Minutes passed. No
onespoke.
It's just a picture of his son. Let's forget it and go on to the good
stuff.
"More voices echoed in agreement. "No, we have to sell this one first,"
replied the auctioneer. "Now, who will take the son?"
Finally, a friend of the old man spoke. "Will you take ten dollars for
the painting? That's all I have. I knew the boy, so I'd like to have
it." "I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" called the auctioneer.
After more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice.
Gone."
The gavel fell.
Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it
and we can bid on these treasures!" The auctioneer looked at the
audience
and announced the auction was over. Stunned disbelief quieted the
room.
Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean it's over? We didn't come
here for a picture of some old guy's son What about all of these
paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! I demand that you
explain what's going on here!"
The auctioneer replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the
father, whoever takes the son...gets it all."
Puts things into perspective, doesn't it? Just as those art collectors
discovered on that Christmas Day, the message is still the same--the
love of a Father--a Father whose greatest joy came from his son who went
away and gave his life rescuing others. And because of that Father's
love...whoever takes the Son gets it all.

THE PAINTBRUSH
I keep my paintbrush with me
Wherever I may go,
In case I need to cover up
So the real me doesn't show.
I'm so afraid to show you me,
Afraid of what you'll do--that
You might laugh or say mean things.
I'm afraid I might lose you.

I'd like to remove all my paint coats
To show you the real, true me,
But I want you to try and understand,
I need you to accept what you see.
So if you'll be patient and close your eyes,
I'll strip off all my coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.

Now my coats are all stripped off.
I feel naked, bare, and cold,
And if you still love me with all that you see,
You are my friend, pure as gold.

I need to save my paintbrush, though,
And hold it in my hand,
I want to keep it handy
In case somebody doesn't understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true,
But please let me keep my paintbrush with me
Until I love me, too.

Side By Side


On the table, side by side
The Book of Mormon and the TV Guide
One is well worn and cherished with pride;
Not the Book of Mormon, but the TV guide,
One is used daily to help folks decide,
No, not the Book of Mormon, but the TV Guide.
As the pages are turned, what shall they see?
Oh, what does it matter, turn on the TV!
So they opened the book from which they confide,
No, not the Book of Mormon, but the TV guide.
The word of God is seldom read
Maybe a verse or two before they fall to bed,
Exhausted and sleepy and tired as can be,
Not from reading the scriptures, but from watching TV.
So back to the table, side by side
The Book of Mormon, and the TV Guide
The Plan of Salvation is full and free
But is found in the Book of Mormon, not on the TV.

THE LEGEND OF THE CHRISTMAS SPIDER

Once upon a time, long ago , a gentle mother was busy cleaning the house for
the most wonderful day of the year. The day on which the Christ Child came
to bless the house not a speck of dust was left. Even the spiders had
vanished from their cozy corner in the ceiling to avoid the housewife's busy
cleaning. They finally fled to the farthest corner of the Attic.

'It was Christmas eve at last! The tree was decorated and waiting for the
children to see it. But the poor spiders were frantic, for they could not
see the tree nor be present for the Christ Childs visit. The oldest and
wisest spider suggested that perhaps they could peep through the crack in
the door to see him Silently they crept out of the attic, down the stairs
and across the floor to wait in the threshold. Suddenly the door opened a
wee bit and quickly the spiders scurried into the room. They needed to see
the tree more closely, because their eyes were not accustomed to the
Brightness of the room. So they crept all over the tree, up and down over
every branch and twig and saw everyone of the pretty things. At last they
saw the whole beauty of the Tree.

But alas! Everywhere they went they had left their webs and when the Christ
child came to bless the house he was dismayed. He loved the little spiders
for they were God's creatures too. But he knew the mother, who trimmed the
tree for the children, wouldn't feel the same.
As he touched the webs they all turned to sparkling and shimmering silver
and gold.

Since that time we, have hung tinsel on the Christmas trees and according
the legend it has become a custom to include a spider among the decorations
on the tree.
( German and Ukraine legend)
HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS, From your friend Sheila in Utah

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER
by Erma Bombeck

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner,
even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room
and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted
to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his
youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day
because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted
in
storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass
stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more
while
watching life.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth
would
go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical,
wouldn't
show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished
every
moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was my only
chance
in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said,
"Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love you".. more "I'm sorry"...
but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...
look at it and really see it... Live it... and never give it back.

Don't forget to stop and smell the roses today! Take time to tell a
loved one
how much you love them, do something nice for yourself, and stop to give
God
thanks for all of it.

--part0_911057376_boundary--

The Room

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

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention
was one that read "People I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping
through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I
recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told,
I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was
a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my
every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within
me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some
brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so
intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was
watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have
Betrayed". The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.
"Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes
I Have Laughed At". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness:
"Things I Have Yelled at My Brothers". Others I couldn't laugh at:
"Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My
Breath at My Parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than
I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could
it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these
thousand or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this
truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my
signature. When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened
To", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards
were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found
the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of
music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to the file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run
through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to
test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed
content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An
almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one
must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to
destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size
didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took
it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a
single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it
as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly
helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against
the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel
With". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost
unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three
inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on
one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that
the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees
and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it
all. The rows of file shelved swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one
must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him.
Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to
open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His
response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face,
I saw the sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the
worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally, he turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at
me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I
dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many
things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one
end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His
name over mine on each card.

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

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign
the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly,
but the next instant is seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk
back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is
finished". I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no
lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Don't ever stop dreaming your dreams;
they're a very essential part of you.
Do whatever you can to make them a
reality by the course you take,
the plans you make,
and all the things you do.
Don't dwell on past mistakes; leave
yesterday behind you --- along with any
of its problems, worries, and doubts.
Do realize you can't change the past,
but just ahead is the future --- and
you can do something about that.
Don't try to accomplish everything at
once; life can be difficult enough ---
without adding frustration to the list.
Do travel one step at a time, and reach
for one goal at a time. That's the way
to find out what real accomplishment is.
Don't be afraid to do the impossible,
even if others don't think you'll succeed.
Do remember that history is filled with
incredible accomplishments of those who
were foolish enough ..... to believe.
Don't forget that there are so many
things that are wonderful, rare,
and unique about you.
And do remember that if you can search
within and find a smile ..... that smile
will always be a reflection
of the way people feel ..... about YOU!

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 a grand total of twelve cents to last her until Monday.
Nonetheless, she felt satisfied 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, OK 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. "Thank you lady! Thank you
very much!"

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."

She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.

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.

My son's a CTR ... I go to PEC.
I work for CES....I study the TG.
I read the B of M .... I probe the D&C.
I search the KJV ... I ponder the JST.
Today in BYC ... we planned for EFY.
I stayed a little after ... and had a PPI.
The YM and YW ... are putting on a play.
It's one that I remember ...we did in MIA.
Soon our oldest daughter ... is heading for the Y.
Soon our oldest clothing ... is going to DI.
Now, if you've understood ... this alphabetic mess,
The chances are quite good ... that you are LDS.

SATAN'S CONVENTION

Satan called a worldwide convention. In his opening address to his
evil angels, he said, "We can't keep the Christians from going to church."
"We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth."
"We can't even keep them from conservative values."

"But we can do something else. We can keep them from forming an
intimate, abiding experience in Christ. If they gain that connection with
Jesus, our power over them is broken. So let them go to church, let them
have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they can't
gain that experience in Jesus Christ. This is what I want you to do,
angels. Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining
that vital connection throughout their day!"

"How shall we do this?" shouted his angels.

"Keep them busy in the nonessentials of life and invent unnumbered
shams to occupy their minds," he answered. "Tempt them to spend,
spend, spend, then, borrow, borrow, borrow. Convince the wives to go
to work and the husbands to work six or seven days a week, 10-12 hours
a day, so they can afford their lifestyles. Keep them from spending time
with their children. As their family fragments, soon, their homes will
offer no escape from the pressures of work. Over stimulate their minds so
that they cannot hear that still small voice.

Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive,
to keep the TV, the VCR, and their CD's going constantly in their homes.
And see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays music
constantly. This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ."
"Fill their coffee tables with magazines and newspapers. Pound their
minds with the news 24 hours a day. Invade any other moments with order
catalogues, every kind of newsletter and promotional offering, free
products, services, and false hopes."

"Even in their recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return
from their recreation exhausted, disquieted and unprepared for the
coming week. Don't let them go out in nature. Send them to amusement
parks, sporting events, and concerts instead."

"And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip
and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled
emotion."

"Let them be involved in soul-winning. But crowd their lives with so
many good causes they have no time to seek power from Christ. Soon
they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and
family unity for the good of the cause."

It was quite a convention in the end.

And the evil angels went eagerly to their assignments, causing
Christians everywhere to get busy, busy, busy and rush here and there.

Has the devil been successful at his scheme?

You be the judge.

WHAT DO ANGELS LOOK LIKE?
Author Unknown

  Like the little old lady who returned
  ~ your wallet yesterday.

   Like the taxi driver who told you that your eyes
   ~ light up the world, when you smile.

   Like the small child who showed you
   ~ the wonder in simple things.

   Like the poor man who offered to
   ~ share his lunch with you.

   Like the rich man who showed you that it
   ~ really is all possible, if only you believe.

   Like the stranger who just happened to come along,
   ~ when you had lost your way.

   Like the friend who touched your heart,
   ~ when you didn't think you had one to touch.

   Angels come in all sizes and shapes,
   ~ all ages and skin types.

   Some with freckles, some with dimples,
   ~ some with wrinkles, some without.

   They come disguised as friends, enemies,
   ~ teachers, students, lovers and fools.

   They don't take life too seriously,
   ~ they travel light.

   They leave no forwarding address,
   ~ they ask nothing in return.

   They wear sneakers with gossamer wings,
   ~ they get a deal on dry cleaning.

   They are hard to find when your eyes are closed, But
   ~ they are everywhere you look, when you choose to

THE OBSTACLE IN OUR PATH

In ancient times, a king had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he
hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock.
Some of the kindgom's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and
simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the
roads clear, but none did anything about getting the big stone out of
the way. Then a peasant came along, carrying a load of vegetables. On
approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to
move the stone to the side of the the road. After much pushing and
straining, he finally succeeded.
As the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse
lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many
gold coins and a note from the king indicating that The gold was for the
person who removed the boulder from the roadway.
The peasant learned what many others never understand: Every obstacle
presents an opportunity to improve one's condition.

A True Story

A soldier was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam.

He called his parents from San Francisco. "Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I'd like to bring a friend home with me."

"Sure" They replied. "We'd love to meet him."


"There is something you should know", the son continued. "He was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us."


"I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live."


"No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us."

"Son," Said the father," You don't know what you are asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden to us. We have our own life to live and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own. "


At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building. They were told. The police believed it was suicide.
The grief stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know their son had only one arm and leg. He himself was the man he wanted to bring home to his Mom and Dad.

VISUALIZATION

I've discovered that numerous peak performers
use the skill of mental rehearsal of visualization.
They mentally run through important events
before they happen.


We sort of did some role-playing with me
playing the part of the person trying to lead them astray and they
reacted by using what they had been taught. I would use several methods
so they could see that there were also subtle ways of getting someone to
do wrong. When the kids didn't know what to do in a given situation we
had some good talks about things they could do--some suggestions from
me, some thought on their part and some brainstorming. A couple of the
kids said that it helped them get out of uncomfortable situations far
better, because it wasn't new--we'd already "rehearsed" it and they felt
confident.

I have also found it helpful when I need to do something in front of
people to visualize what I'm being asked to do and then when I do it
it's far easier to do. (like giving a talk, etc., etc.)


Blessings,
Ronna

yes I know.....I'm the sentimental type and had tears in my eyes when I
first went through this....and I realized.......that at times everyone
EVERYONE...no matter what is going on in their lives......needs to know
that ppl care........it makes the day better.....no matter how small the
deed......a smile.....a note to say you care.......a flower.....simple
words of praise............it can make a difference....whether it be life
changing or not........and I also realized that this is the type of
person I want to be.......to be able to love my family and friends
unconditionally.
to be there for someone when needed....to let that person know no matter
what happens in their life, no matter what decisions they choose, what
lifestyle they live......that I will love and be there for them no matter
what.......that I can be counted on to be the friend, the sister, the
daughter, the niece, the cousin that a person needs. if you are wondering
what brought this on....it's basically the fact that these last few
months one things that ppl have been saying is to make sure you let ppl
know how you feel....for the basic reason...no one knows what is in store
for them......and I might as well take the chance no to tell you then to
sit and ask myself after something has happened.....why, why didn't I let
that person know before I wasn't able to..........so here ya'll
go.......love you guys.........hope things are going

:      Bruce R. McConkie
The "I Believe in Christ" Legacy

Today in our fast and testimony meeting we had the rare opportunity to
hear Sister Amelia McConkie bear her testimony and tell the following
story, as near as I could record it:

"In Relief Society today our closing song was 'I Believe in Christ.'
Then, as we began our Fast and Testimony meeting, our opening song was "I
Believe in Christ."  This made me think that perhaps it's time I share
with you how we got this hymn.

"Some 15 years ago, my husband Bruce R. McConkie was very ill.  The
doctor told us he had two months to live, at the most.  However, Bruce
felt he still had some things he wanted to do.  The Brethren gave him a
blessing and his family gathered to share their faith and prayers. He
lived an additional fourteen months, although he was very ill much of
that time.  He never thought he wasn't going to get better.  He told  me
time and time again that this was the Lord's test for him and that he
had  enough faith in and of himself to be healed.

"Early in February, on an overcast day much like today, I  decided to
make a pie to cheer him up, as he loved pie.  While I was doing this he
lay on the floor in our bedroom, which he often did.  He had a pencil
and  paper in hand and was writing.  Then he came into the kitchen where
I  was  working and said 'do you want to hear what I'm going to talk
about in  Conference?'

"The pie was almost finished and I wanted to get it into the oven, but I
soon realized that you don't make pies while he's talking like this. So
I stopped and sat down to listen.  He read to me his talk, and I said,
'it's the most beautiful thing you've ever written, but how will you
ever do it?'  He was so ill and so weak.

'I don't know,' he answered, 'but I  will.'

"His doctor was so worried.  'You've got a dying man on your  hands; you
must not let him speak at conference.  If he tries, he will collapse  on
nationwide television..'  but I couldn't try to stop him.

He was determined to do it and nothing could have sopped him.  Our son
said,  'I  don't think there's anything Dad wanted to do more than preach
that last sermon at Conference.'  So our children fasted together, asking
that their father would have the physical and emotional strength to
fulfill his wish.  During the Saturday morning session of April 1985
General Conference, a  thin Bruce R. McConkie took his place at the
pulpit and despite his weakened condition, he bore majestic testimony to
the truths so integral  to his life and mission.  He testified, 'I am one
of his witnesses,  and  in a coming day I shall feel the nail marks in
his hands and in his  feet and shall wet his feet with my tears.  But I
shall not know any better then than I know now that he is God's Almighty
Son, that he is our Savior and Redeemer, and that salvation comes in and
through his atoning blood and in no other way.' (Excerpted from his
Conference address.)

"The following Sunday Elder Packer visited him at home and gave him a
blessing in which he told Bruce he should 'quit resisting the will of the
Lord.'  We both knew what he meant.  At the conclusion, with tears
running down his face, Bruce looked at me as I stood at the foot of the
bed, and said, 'Amelia, do you know what he just did?'  'Yes, he has
sealed you unto death.'"

"That was so hard on Bruce,'; she said.  'He wanted so much to live.'

But as I showed Elder Packer out, Bruce got up, folded the bedspread as
he always did at night, got ready for bed, and got under the covers.
Always before he's insisted that I make the bed and he'd lay on top of
it, fully dressed.  But this was his way of saying to the Lord, 'I am
bowing to your will.'  He passed away a short time later."  What a great
blessing to have the beautiful hymn "I Believe in Christ", taken from his
testimony.

Sister Amelia McConkie
Canyon Road Ward
September 6, 1998


One of the secrets of life is to make stepping stone out of stumbling
blocks...many receive advise; only the wise profit by it...if you want
to feel rich, just count all of the things money can't buy...when
looking for faults, use a mirror, not a telescope...the only way to have
the sort of obituary you want is to start living the way you want to be
remembered...success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom...habit
is like a soft bed-easy to get into but hard to get out of.

We judge other by their action, yet we would like to be judged by our
intentions.   -unknown-

There are two types of pain in life, the pain of discipline and the pain
of regret.  Discipline weighs ounces, while regret weighs tons.


THOUGHT TO LIVE BY

True faith and courage are like a kite - an opposing wind raises it
higher.
In order to receive direction from God you must be able to receive the
correction from God
Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from
themselves
It's the little things in life that determine the big things.
He who throws dirt loses ground.
Contentment isn't getting what we want but being satisfied with what we
have.
Too many people quit looking for work when they find a job.
The only fool bigger than the person who knows it all is the person who
argues with him.
Blessed is he who, having nothing to say, refrains from giving wordy
evidence of the fact.
Luck:  a loser's excuse for a winner's position.
Ignorance is always swift to speak.

The Cocoon:
  A man found a cocoon of an emperor moth. He took it home so that he
could watch the moth come out of the cocoon. On the day, a small opening
appeared, he sat and watched the moth for several hours as the moth
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 go no farther. It just seemed to be stuck.
Then the
man, in his kindness, decided to help the moth, so he took a pair of
scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The moth then
emerged easily.
But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued
to watch the moth 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 little moth 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 kindness and haste did not understand was that the
restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the moth to get through
the tiny opening were a way of forcing fluid from the body of the moth
into
its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its
freedom
from the cocoon. Freedom and flight would only come after the struggle.
By
depriving the moth of a struggle, he deprived the moth of health.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we are
allowed to go through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple
us. We
would not be as strong as what we could have been.

If you're encouraged by this story, pass on to someone who needs a word
of encouragement as well.

I hope you have a few Kleenex tissues left in that box.  This story is
a true story sent out by Ruth Peterson.  It serves as a reminder to
all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each
other.



The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study.  Six
words - one for each year of her life - that speak to me of harmony,
courage, undemanding love.  A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and
hair the color of sand -- who taught me the gift of love.

On a quiet street in the city a little old man walked along, shuffling
through the autumn afternoon. And the autumn leaves reminded him of other
summers come and gone.
He had a long lonely night ahead waiting in June. The among the leaves
near an orphan home a piece of paper caught his eyes, and he stooped to pick
it up with trembling hands. As he read the childish writing the old man began
to cry. 'Cause the words burned inside like a brand.

"Whoever finds this, I love you, whoever finds this, I need you. I ain't
even got no one to talk to. So whoever finds this, I love you!"

The old man's eyes searched the orphan's and came to rest upon a child with
her nose pressed up against the window pane. And the old man knew he found a
friend at last so he waved to her and smiled.

And they both knew they've spend the winter laughing at the rain. And they
did spend the winter laughing at the rain. Talking through the fence and
exchanging little gifts they had made for each other.

The old man would carved toys for the little girl. She would draw pictures
for him of beautiful ladies. Surrounded by green trees and sunshine, and they
laughed a lot.

But then on the first day of June the little girl ran to the fence to show
the old man a picture she drew, but he wasn't there. And somehow she knew he
wasn't coming back, so she went to her room, took a crayon and paper and
wrote...

"Whoever finds this, I love you, whoever finds this, I need you. I ain't
even got no one to talk to. So whoever finds this, I love you!"

HEAVEN'S GROCERY STORE
 
  I was walking down life's highway, a long time ago.
  One day, I saw a sign that read, "HEAVEN'S GROCERY STORE."
  As I got a little closer, the door came open wide.
  And when I came to myself, I was standing inside.
 
  I saw a host of angels
  They were standing everywhere
  One handed me a basket and said,
  "My Child, shop with care"
 
  Everything a Christian needed was in that grocery store.
  And all you couldn't carry, you could come back the next day for more.
  First, I got some PATIENCE;
  LOVE was in the same row.
  Further down was UNDERSTANDING;
  You need that everywhere you go.
 
  I got a box or two of WISDOM,
  a bag or two of FAITH.
  I just couldn't miss the HOLY GHOST,
  For it was all over the place.
 
  I stopped to get some STRENGTH and COURAGE,
  To help me run this race
  By then my basket was getting full,
  But I remembered I needed some GRACE.
 
  I didn't forget SALVATION
  For Salvation was free,
  So, I tried to get enough of that
  To save both you and me.
 
  Then I started up to the counter
  To pay my grocery bill
  For I thought I had everything
  To do the Master's Will.
 
  As I went up the aisle, I saw PRAYER;
  And I knew I just had to put that in,
  For I knew when I stepped outside.
  I would run into sin.
 
  PEACE and JOY were plentiful;
  They were last on the shelf
  Then I said to the angel,
  "Now, how much do I owe?"
  He smiled and said,
  "Just take them everywhere you go."
  Again, I smiled and said,
  "How much do I really owe?"
  He smiled again and said,
  "MY CHILD, JESUS PAID YOUR BILL
  A LONG, LONG TIME AGO."
 
  "All things whatsoever you shall ask in prayer, believing, you shall
  receive."
  Matt 21:22
 

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
My Mother ??? 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.

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

65 YEARS OF AGE
Wish I could talk it over with Mom once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Many years ago, a four-year-old girl named Sandra Louise Doty described
what she thought a grandmother was like. She said, "A grandmother is a
lady who has no children of her own, so she likes other people's little
girls. A grandfather is a man grandmother. He goes for walks with the
boys, and they talk about fishing and tractors and things like that.

Grandmas don't have to do anything except be there. They're old, so they
shouldn't play hard or run. It is enough if they drive us to the market
where the pretend horse is and have lots of dimes ready. Or if they take
us for walks, they should slow down past things like pretty leaves or
caterpillars.

They should never, ever say, "Hurry up."

"Usually, they are fat, but not too fat to tie kids shoes. They wear
glasses and funny underwear. They can take off their teeth. They don't
have to be smart, only answer questions like why dogs hate cats and how
come God isn't married. They don't talk baby talk like visitors do,
because it is hard to understand. When they read to us, they don't skip
or mind if it is the same story again.

Then she finished, "Everybody should try to have a grandmother,
specially if you don't have television, because grandmas are the only
grown-ups who have got time."



NO EXCUSE SUNDAY: DEDICATED TO MISSING CHURCH MEMBERS!
To make it possible for everyone to attend church next Sunday, we are
going to have a special "No Excuse Sunday."

Cots will be placed in the foyer for those who say, "Sunday is my only
day
to
sleep in."

There will be a special section with lounge chairs for those who feel
that
our pews are too hard.

Eye drops will be available for those with tired eyes from watching TV
late
Saturday night.

We will have steel helmets for those who say, "The roof would cave in if
ever came to church."

Blankets will be furnished for those who think the church is too cold,
and fans for those who say it is too hot.

Scorecards will be available for those who wish to list the hypocrites
present.

Relatives and friends will be in attendance for those who can't go to
church and cook dinner, too.

We will distribute "Stamp Our Stewardship" buttons for those that feel
the church is always asking for money.

One section will be devoted to trees and grass for those who like to seek
God in nature.

Doctors and nurses will be in attendance for those who plan to be sick on
Sunday.

The sanctuary will be decorated with both Christmas poinsettias and
Easter lilies for those who never have seen the church without them.

We will provide hearing aids for those who can't hear the preacher and
cotton for those who can!

Hope to see you there!


always be there."

CONFIDE IN A FRIEND

When you're tired and worn at the close of the day
And things just don't seem to be going your way,
When even your patience has come to an end,
Try taking time out and confide in a friend.

Perhaps they may have walked the similar road,
With a much troubled heart and burdensome load,
To find peace and comfort somewhere near the end,
When they stopped long enough to confide in a friend.

For then are most welcome a few words of cheer,
For someone who willingly lends you an ear.
No troubles exist that time cannot mend,
But to get quick relief just confide in a friend.

Author Unknown

THE WALLET

Writer unknown. (Great story. Great ending.)

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet
someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked
inside to find some identification so I could call the owner.
But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled
letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.

The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on
it was the return address. I started to open the letter,
hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924.
The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.

It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder
blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner.
It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose
name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see
him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote
that she would always love him.

It was signed, Hannah.

It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for
the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe
if I called information, the operator could find a phone
listing for the address on the envelope.

"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying
to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway
you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address
that was on an envelope in the wallet?"

She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for
a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that
address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a
courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and
would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited
a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have
a party who will speak with you."

I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew
anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought
this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah.
But that was 30 years ago!"

"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I
asked.

"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing
home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in
touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."

She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the
number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years
ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought
the daughter might be living.

I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained
that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.

This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I
making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet
that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost
60 years old?

Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was
supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told
me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. "

Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come
by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to
take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television."

I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night
nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the
third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse
introduced me to Hannah.

She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile
and a twinkle in her eye.

I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the
letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with
that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and
said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever
had with Michael."

She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said
Softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the
time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so
handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."

"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful
person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him
often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her
lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling
as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I
guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."

I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the
first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked,
"Was the old lady able to help you?"

I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last
name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost
the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet."

I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather
case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he
said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet.
I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always
losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least
three times."

"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.

"He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike
Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one
of his walks."

I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's
office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back
to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein
would be up.

On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's
still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's
a darling old man."

We went to the only room that had any lights on and there
was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and
asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up
with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said,
"Oh, it is missing!"

"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it
could be yours?"

I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it,
he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must
have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to
give you a reward."

"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something.
I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the
wallet."

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that
letter?" "Not only did I read it, I think I know where
Hannah is."

He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How
is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please
tell me," he begged.

"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said
softly.

The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you
tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He
grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister,
I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came,
my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always
loved her. "

"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."

We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways
were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit
our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone
watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.

"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was
waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?"

She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't
say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper,
"Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?"

She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you!
My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her and they embraced.
The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.

"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant
to be, it will be."

About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the
nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a
wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"

It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing
home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a
light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark
blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man.

The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted
to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting
like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.

A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60
years. [3]

This is an eye witness account which happened in the City of New York, on a
cold day in December...

A little boy about 10 years old was standing before a shoe store on Broadway,
barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold. A lady
approached the boy and said, "My little fellow, why are you looking so
earnestly in that window?" "I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes," was
the boys reply. The lady took him by the hand and went into the store, and
asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then
asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel, and he

replied: "Certainly," and quickly brought them to her. She took the little
fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down,
washed his little feet and dried them with a towel. By this time the clerk
had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she
purchased him a pair of shoes, and tying up the remaining pairs of socks, gave
them to him. She patted him on the head and said, "No doubt,my little fellow,
you feel more comfortable now?"

As she turned to go, the astonished lad caught her by the hand, and looking
up in her face, with tears in his eyes, answered the question with these
words, "Are you God's Wife?"

From Ron Cappelli

"The Lord does not always give reasons for each commandment. Sometimes faithful members, like Adam of old, are called upon to obey an injunction of the Lord even though they do not know the reason why it was given. Those who trust in God will obey him, knowing full well that time will provide the reasons and vindicate their obedience." (Ezra Taft Benson, CR Oct 67)

from Ronna
It
really touched my heart. I thought some of you would enjoy it, too.



Brotherly Love
~~~~~~~~~~~
Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at Stanford Hospital I
got to know a little girl named Liza who was suffering from a rare and
serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood
transfusion from her five-year old brother, who had miraculously
survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to
combat the illness.

The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and
asked the boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I
saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and
saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save Liza."

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and
smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then
his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and
asked with a trembling voice. "Will I start to die right away?" the
young boy didn't realize what the doctor had told him, and was willing
to give his own life to save his sister.

judgment--True Story

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun
threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly
without an appointment into the president's outer office.

The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks
had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in
Cambridge.

She frowned. "We want to see the president", the man said softly.
"He'll
be busy all day," the secretary snapped.

"We'll wait," the lady replied. For hours, the secretary ignored them,
hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away.
They
didn't.
And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the
president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe
if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him.

And he sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance
obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested
gingham
dresses
and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.

The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple.

The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year.
He
loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was
accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a
memorial
to him,
somewhere on campus".

The president wasn't touched, he was shocked. "Madam," he said gruffy,
"We can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and
died.
If
we did, this place would look like a cemetery".

"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue.
We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard.

The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and
homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea
how much
a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the
physical
plant at Harvard".

For a moment the lady was silent.

The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now.

And the lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it
costs
to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?"

Her husband nodded.

The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.

And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto,
California, where they established the University that bears their
name,
a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat
those who can do nothing for them or to them. --Malcolm Forbes

CLOSE TO, ROUND ABOUT, NEAR BY

One Sunday, the minister was talking on baptism and in the course of his
sermon he was illustrating that baptism should be performed by sprinkling and
not by immersion by pointing out some instances from the Bible.

He said, "In the Bible where it says that John baptized Christ IN the river
Jordan, it didn't mean IN but meant close to, round about, or near by. Then
again where it tells us that Philip baptized the eunuch in the river it
didn't mean IN but close to, round about, or near by."

After the service, as the people were filing out, one old fellow stopped by
the minister and said, "Reverend, that was the best sermon I ever heard and it
uncovered many mysteries of the Bible to me. For example, it tells us in the
Old Testament that Jonah was IN the whale for three days which seemed hard for
me to believe but now I can see that he was not IN the whale, but that he was
close to, round about, or near by swimming in the water."

"Then there is the story of the three young Hebrew boys who were thrown INto
the fiery furnace but not burned. Well, it seemed impossible but now I see
they were not IN the furnace, but were close to, round about, or near by just
keeping warm. But the hardest to believe was where Daniel was thrown IN the
Lion's den but wasn't hurt. Now I see that he wasn't IN the den but was close
to, round about, or just near by - like the zoo."

"The revealing of these mysteries was very rewarding to me but the greatest
comfort of your sermon was because I am a wicked man who sinned much and it
tells us in the Bible that the wicked will by cast into Hell. But now I see
that I won't be cast INto Hell but close to, round about or near by."

"And next Sunday. I won't have to be IN church, I can just be close to, round
about or near by. Thanks for the great sermon. You have really put my mind
at ease."

-Anonymous

A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. 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 not further. Then the man decided
to help the butterfly, so 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 kindness 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 life. If God
allowed us to go through our life without
any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what
we could have been. As we could
never fly!

THE INVISIBLE DISEASE

What is it you ask, this invisible disease...
I answer, it is all encompassing,
It invades your mind, your body, your soul.
It eliminates your independence.
It restricts your cognitive process,
It invalidates your dreams for the future,
It asks for too much, giving nothing but pain in return.
It is an endless abyss filled with red and black,
A vortex that creates sensations that will bring you to your knees,
Deceiving those on the outside,
Devastating those who have intimate knowledge.
Criticized, many a victim seek to isolate themselves,
Misunderstood, many a victim seek the ultimate release.
Trying to rationalize won't stop the pain,
The cost is high for each movement made, to appease others......and ourselves.
Minds that were once sharp, now struggle through a caliginous fog,
Bodies once agile, now struggle over the simplistic,
Souls that were effervescent, now become reflective.
What is this invisible disease called Fibromyalgia?
Simply put...it is all encompassing.

Janis Manning wrote:

What House Do You Live In?
--Author Unknown

"I got two A's," the small boy cried,
His voice was filled with glee.
His father very bluntly asked,
"Why didn't you get three?"

"Mom, I've got the dishes done!,"
The girl called from the door.
Her mother very calmly said,
"And did you sweep the floor?"

"I've mowed the grass," the tall boy said,
"And put the mower away!"
His father asked him, with a shrug.
"Did you clean off the clay?"

The children in the house next door
Seem happy and content.
The same things happened over there,
But this is how it went:

"I got two A's," the small boy cried,
His voice was filled with glee.
His father proudly said, "That's great!
I'm glad you live with me!"

"Mom, I've got the dishes done!"
The girl called from the door.
Her mother smiled and softly said,
"Each day I love you more."

"I've mowed the grass," the tall boy said,
"and put the mower away!"
His father answered with much joy,
"You've made my happy day!"

Children deserve a little praise
For tasks they're asked to do -
If they're to lead a happy life...
So much depends on you.

If a child lives with encouragement,
he or she learns confidence!

Nancy Thompson wrote:

The President of Harvard made a mistake by prejudging people and it
cost him dearly.

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a
homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked
timidly without an appointment into the president's outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks
had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in
Cambridge. She frowned. "We want to see the president," the man said
softly.

"He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped.
"We'll wait," the lady replied.

For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would
finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the
secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the
president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do.
"Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she
told him.

And he sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance
obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested
gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.
The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple.
The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year.
He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was
accidentally killed, and my husband and I would like to erect a
memorial to him, somewhere on campus."

The president wasn't touched; he was shocked.
"Madam," he said gruffly, "We can't put up a statue for every person
who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like
a cemetery."
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a
statue.

We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard. The
president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and
homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly
idea how much  a building costs? We have over seven and a half million
dollars in the physical plant at Harvard."

For a moment, the lady was silent. The president was pleased. He
could get rid of them now. Then the lady turned to her husband and
said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a University? Why don't
we just start our own?"

Her husband nodded. The president's face wilted in confusion and
bewilderment. And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling
to Palo Alto, California, where they established the University that
bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared
about.



"Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much"

A number of years ago (1983-1987), I had the opportunity to play the character
of Ronald McDonald for the McDonald's Corporation. My marketplace covered most
of Arizona and a portion of Southern California.

One of our standard events was "Ronald Day." One day each month, we visited as
many of the community hospitals as possible, bringing a little happiness into
a place where no one ever looks forward to going.

I was very proud to be able to make a difference for children
and adults who ere experiencing some "down time." The warmth and
gratification I would receive stayed with me for weeks. I loved the project,
McDonald's loved the project, the kids and adults loved it and so did the
nursing and hospital staffs.......

There were two restrictions placed on me during a visit. First, I could not go
anywhere in the hospital without McDonald's personnel (my handlers) as well as
hospital personnel. That way, if I were to walk into a room and frighten a
child, there was someone there to address the issue immediately. And second, I
could not physically touch anyone within the hospital. They did not want me
transferring germs from one patient to another. I understood why they had this
"don't touch" rule, but I didn't like it. I believe that touching is the most
honest form of communication we will ever know. Printed and spoken words can
lie; it is impossible to lie with a warm hug.

Breaking either of these rules, I was told, meant I could lose my job........
Toward the end of my fourth year of "Ronald Days," as I was heading down a
hallway after a long day in grease paint and on my way home, I heard a little
voice. "Ronald, Ronald." I stopped. The soft little voice was coming through a
half-opened door. I pushed the door open and saw a young boy, about five years
old, lying in his dad's arms, hooked up to more medical equipment than I had
ever seen.

Mom was on the other side, along with Grandma, Grandpa and a nurse tending to
the equipment.
I knew by the feeling in the room that the situation was grave. I asked the
little boy his name---he told me it was Billy---and I did a few simple magic
tricks for him. As I stepped back to say good-bye, I asked Billy if there was
anything else I could do for him.

"Ronald, would you hold me?"..... Such a simple request. But what ran through
my mind was that if I touched him, I could lose my job. So I told Billy I
could not do that right now, but I suggested that he and I color a picture.
Upon completing a wonderful piece of art that we were both very proud of,
Billy again asked me to hold him. By this time my heart was screaming "yes!"
But my mind was screaming louder. "No! You are going to lose your job!"

This second time that Billy asked me, I had to ponder why I could not grant
the simple request of a little boy who probably would not be going home. I
asked myself why was I being logically and emotionally torn apart by someone I
had never seen before and probably would never see again.
..."Hold me." It was such a simple request, and yet... I searched for any
reasonable response that would allow me to leave. I could not come up with a
single one. It took me a moment to realize that in this situation, losing my
job may not be the disaster I feared.

Was losing my job the worst thing in the world? Did I have enough self-belief
that if I did lose my job, I would be able to pick up and start again? The
answer was a loud, bold affirming "yes!" I could pick up and start again.
So what was the risk?
Just that if I lost my job, it probably would not be long before I would lose
first my car, then my home...and to be honest with you, I really liked those
things. But I realized that at the end of my life, the car would have no value
and neither would the house. The only things that had steadfast value were
experiences.

Once I reminded myself that the real reason I was there was to bring a little
happiness to an unhappy environment, I realized that I really faced
no risk at all......I sent Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa out of the room, and
my two
McDonald's escorts out to the van. The nurse tending the medical equipment
stayed, but Billy asked her to stand and face the corner.

Then I picked up this little wonder of a human being. He was so frail and so
scared. We laughed and cried for 45 minutes, and talked about the things that
worried him.
Billy was afraid that his little brother might get lost coming home from
kindergarten next year, without Billy to show him the way. He worried that his
dog wouldn't get another bone because Billy had hidden the bones in the house
before going back to the hospital, and
now he couldn't remember where he put them. These are problems to a little boy
who knows he is not going home.

On my way from the room, with tear-streaked makeup running down my neck, I
gave Mom and Dad my real name and phone number (another automatic dismissal
for Ronald McDonald, but I figured that I was gone and had nothing to lose),
and said if there was anything the McDonald's Corporation or I could do, to
give me a call and consider it done......Less than 48 hours later, I received
a phone call form Billy's mom.

She informed me that Billy had passed away. She and her husband simply wanted
to thank me for making a difference in their little boy's life.
Billy's mom told me that shortly after I left the room, Billy looked at her
and said, "Momma, I don't care anymore if I see Santa this year because I was
held by Ronald McDonald."

Sometimes we must do what is right for the moment, regardless of the perceived
risk. Only experiences have value, and the one biggest reason people limit
their experiences is because of the risk involved.

For the record, McDonald's did find out about Billy and me, but given the
circumstances, permitted me to retain my job. I continued as Ronald for
another year before leaving the corporation to share the story of Billy and
how important it is to take risks.

A little part of US history that will make you sit up and go hmmmmm!

Abraham Lincoln was elected to congress in 1846.
John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.

Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960.

The names Lincoln and Kennedy each contain seven letters.

Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.
Both wives lost children while living in the White House.

Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head.

Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy.
Kennedy's secretary was named Lincoln.

Both were assassinated by Southerners.

Both were succeeded by Southerners.
Both successors were named Johnson.

Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808.
Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.

John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln, was born in 1839.
Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born in 1939.

Both assassins were known by their three names.
Both names are comprised of fifteen letters.

Lincoln was shot at the theater named "Kennedy".
Kennedy was shot in a car called "Lincoln".

Booth ran from the theater and was caught in a warehouse.
Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater.

Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.

And here's the kicker....

A week before Lincoln was shot, he was with friends in Monroe, Maryland.

A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn Monroe.

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