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Saturday, March 24, 2012

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Power of a kind word


Life is simple


A choice to make

I believe that, at least to some degree, we can each exercise control over our outlook and attitudes. And the problem is - if we don't control our attitudes, they will surely control us.
One farmer took charge of his outlook. He did it by filling his mind with awe and gratitude. He found that doing this gave him more energy to work on problems and to tackle those things that needed his attention. His neighbour's outlook could not have been more different.
One summer morning he exclaimed, 'Look at the beautiful sky. Did you ever see such a glorious sunrise?'
She countered. 'It'll probably get so hot the crops will scorch.'
During an afternoon shower, he commented, 'Isn't this wonderful? Mother Nature is giving the corn a drink today.'
'And if it doesn't stop before too long,' came the sour reply, 'we'll wish we'd taken out flood insurance on the crops.' And so it went.
Convinced that he could instil some awe and wonder in this hardened woman, he bought a remarkable dog. Not just any mutt, but the most expensive, highly trained and gifted dog he could find. The animal was exquisite. It could perform remarkable and impossible feats that, the farmer thought, would surely amaze even his neighbour. So he invited her to watch his dog perform.
'Fetch!' he commanded, as he tossed a stick into a lake, where it bobbed up and down in the rippling water. The dog bounded after the stick, walked on the water, and retrieved it. 'What do you think of that?' he smirked.
Her brow wrinkled. 'Hmmm. Can't swim, can he?'
Not to sound too Pollyanna, but I agree with newscaster Paul Harvey when he said that he has never seen a monument erected for a pessimist. A stubbornly positive attitude can often make the difference between happiness and misery, between health and illness and even between life and death.
Viktor Frankl would have agreed. Dr. Frankl chronicled his experiences as a Holocaust and concentration camp survivor in his book Man's Search for Meaning. In it he asserts something really quite remarkable. He says that everything can be taken from a person except one thing. What can never be taken away is the power to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances.
We can decide to choose our attitudes every day. That may be one of the most important decisions we will make. I don't want to neglect making that choice.
Written by Steve Goodier

Laughter


If it's meant to be, it will be!


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 and said 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 right red lacing. He's always losing that wallet 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 get 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!
Author Unknown

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The parable of the marbles


Once upon a time, there was a foolish boy who had a bag full of beautiful marbles. Now this boy was quite proud of his marbles. In fact, he thought so much of them that he would neither play with them himself nor would he let anyone else play with them.

He only took them out of the bag in order to count and admire them; they were never used for their intended purpose. Yet that boy carried that coveted bag of marbles everywhere he went.

Well, there was also a wise boy who wished he could have such a fine bag of marbles. So this boy worked hard and earned money to purchase a nice bag to hold marbles. Even though he had not yet earned enough with which to purchase any marbles, he had faith and purchased the marble bag.

He took special care of the bag and dreamed of the day it would contain marbles with which he could play and share with his friends.

Alas, the foolish boy with all of the marbles didn't take care of the marble bag itself, and one day the bag developed a hole in the bottom seam. Still, he paid no attention and, one by one, the marbles fell out of the bag.
It didn't take long, once the foolish boy's marble bag developed a hole, for the wise boy to begin to find those beautiful marbles, one at a time, lying unnoticed on the ground. And, one by one, he added them to his marble bag. The wise boy thus gained a fine bag full of marbles in no time at all. This boy played with the marbles and shared them with all of his friends. And he always took special care of the bag so he wouldn't lose any.

Because the foolish boy was selfish and careless, he lost all of his marbles and was left holding the bag.
Author Unknown



Dream what you want to dream

Dream what you want to dream, go where you want to go,be what you want to be. Because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do. – Anonymous



I have a choice about today


I woke up early today, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight. I have responsibilities to fulfill today and I am important. My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.
Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.
Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.
Today I can grumble about my health or I can rejoice that I am alive.
Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't give me when I was growing up or I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.
Today I can cry because roses have thorns or I can celebrate that thorns have roses.
Today I can mourn my lack of friends or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.
Today I can whine because I have to go to work or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do.
Today I can complain because I have to go to school oreagerly open my mind and fill it with rich new tidbits of knowledge.
Today I can murmur dejectedly because I have to do housework or I can appreciate that I have a place to call home.
Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped. And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.
What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!
Have a GREAT DAY ... unless you have other plans and please remember, a 'Smile' will make the days go better.
Author Unknown

I have the power to make me happy

Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it. - Groucho Marx



Each day is a gift

A 92-year-old delicate but well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably coifed and his face shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.

His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.

As he manoeuvred his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window.

'I love it,' he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

'Mr. Jones, you haven't seen the room; just wait.'

'That doesn't have anything to do with it,' he replied.

'Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind.

I already decided to love it. 'It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.'

'Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away. Just for this time in my life.'

'Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you've put in.'

'So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories! Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.'
Remember these five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred
2. Free your mind from worries
3. Live simply
4. Give more
5. Expect less
Author Unknown
Priya Deelchand

If you think you can't


'If you think you can do a thing, or you think you can't do a thing, you're always right.'
Henry Ford
 
 
If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don't.
If you'd like to win but you think you can't, it's almost a cinch you wont.
For out in the world you'll find success begins with a persons will.
It's all in the state of Mind.
 
Think big, and your deeds will grow;
Think small and you fall behind.
Think that you can, and you will.
It's all in your state of mind.
 
If you think you are outclassed, you are.
You've got to think high to rise.
You've got to be sure of yourself before you can ever win a prize.
Life's battle doesn't always go to the stronger or faster one;
But sooner or later, the one who wins is the person who thinks they can.
Author Unknown


Freedom is the oxygen of the soul. ~Moshe Dayan






Priya Deelchand Facebook http://www.facebook.com/priyadeelchand1

What Am I


What Am I

I am seldom considered, though I do more to influence everything about you than virtually any one thing in your life.  I often control the time you get up in the morning, the time you go to sleep, what you eat and drink and the very thought that runs through your head.  I can make you either happy or sad, loving or hateful, cheerful or remorseful, congenial or spiteful and in doing so, control the very capacity that you have for success. 

No, you don’t often think of me instead you BLAME the problem I create on the shortcoming of others, or the state of the economy, or your family or a million other reasons.  Often at times unable to find anyone else to BLAME you look for shortcomings within yourself on which to lay the BLAME. 

When my impact on your life fully is considered in your every thought and action, when you are mindful of my awesome power, when you nurture and groom me for positive use in your life, I can become more contagious than the most prolific disease ever witnessed by man.  My influence will spread to every person you come in contact with.

Groomed and nurtured in a positive manner there will be no person or obstacle that can stand in the way of my success or fail to be impacted for the better.

'I Am Your Attitude'


Author Unknown
Priya Deelchand Facebook http://www.facebook.com/priyadeelchand1

Happiness

For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time to still be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.


This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have. And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time and remember that time waits for no one, so stop waiting . . .
  • until you finish school
  • until you go back to school
  • until you lose ten pounds
  • until you gain ten pounds
  • until you have kids
  • until your kids leave the house
  • until you start work
  • until you retire
  • until you get married
  • until you get divorced
  • until Friday night
  • until Sunday morning
  • until you get a new car or home
  • until your car or home is paid off
  • until spring
  • until summer
  • until fall
  • until winter
  • until you are off welfare
  • until the first or fifteenth
  • until your song comes on
  • until you've had a drink
  • until you've sobered up
  • until you die
  • until you are born again
Decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
Written by Alfred D. Souza
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