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Ιστορίες » Μηνύματα - Σελίδα 4
arrow right The Little Raggedy Girl

There was once a little raggedy girl who lived with her widowed mother in what could only be charitably called a shack, just outside of town. She had few clothes to wear and those that she had were worn and patched in many places. She was clean and tidy. Her mother saw to that. But, her schoolmates could not see past her ragged clothing and they enjoyed making fun of her. The little raggedy girl bore the insults of the other children in silence. One little boy, in particular, liked to make fun of the coat she always wore. Like the rest of her clothes, the coat had seen much better days. It was an ugly green color with pulls and rawls all over it. Some places had dark stains that no amount of washing could ever remove. But the coat was warm and it was the only one she had, so the little raggedy girl wore it to school every day. Christmas was only a few days away now, and it was the last school day before the long vacation. On her way home that day, a wet snow was falling accompanied by a biting north wind. It was cold and miserable. She was happy about her old coat and the warmth it provided. Still she wanted to get home quickly to the warmth of her house. Several blocks from the school she saw three boys standing on the sidewalk. They seemed to be arguing, but she couldn't make out the words -- just a lot of shouting. Then one of the boys suddenly snatched the coat off one the other boy's back. The boy tried to hold onto his coat, but the other one was stronger. As soon as the coat was free, he and his friend ran off with it, laughing. The boy started to run after them but, in his haste, slipped and fell in the slushy snow, landing heavily on the sidewalk. The raggedy girl ran up to the boy on the ground. She was startled to find it was the very same boy who had always taunted her about her coat at school.

Bandu2 - Herit.gif  Κατηγορία: Ιστορίες   »   72 Διαβάζει   »   Ημερομηνία: 07/03/2010 21:44   »   Με: LAURA

arrow right Lesson from a Rainy Day

August 26, 1999 is a day that many New Yorkers would probably like to forget. However, this New Yorker will always remember that day because that is the day that I learned what a powerful gift appreciation can truly be. On August 26, 1999, New York City experienced a torrential downpour. The relentless rain caused the streets to flood. New York City's subway system came to a screeching halt as the subway stations were inundated with water. Unfortunately, this happened during the morning rush hour. Many people who were going to work were stranded and forced to go home. Some battled with fellow New Yorkers to hail a cab or to get on a bus. Still others braved the storm, walking miles to get to work. I happened to be one of people on her way to work that morning. I went from subway line to subway line only to find that most service had stopped. After running around like crazy and making my way through crowds of people, I finally found a subway line that was operating. Unfortunately, there were so many people waiting to board the subway that I could not even get down the stairs to the platform. Undaunted and determined to get to work, I decided to take the train uptown several stops and then switch back to the downtown train. It was a hassle, but it paid off. However, the train got more packed at each stop. People pushed and shoved. I was constantly hit with elbows and bags. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the train reached my stop. But the journey was not over yet. I would still have to walk several blocks to get to my office. The rain had intensified, and no umbrella was enough to withstand the forces of Mother Nature. When I finally got to work, I was completely soaked and left a puddle of water everywhere I sat. I was also exhausted and discouraged from my commute. My coworkers and I spent most of the day drying off. When 5:00 rolled around, I was ready to go home. I was about to log off my computer when I received an email from Garth, my Deputy Director. I opened the email and found the following message: I would like to thank all those associates who made the effort and eventually reported to work. It is always reassuring, at times like these, when employees so clearly demonstrate their dedication to their jobs. Thank you. As you can see, Garth's email was short, but I learned more from that brief message than I ever did from a textbook. The email taught me that a few words of appreciation can make a big difference. The rainstorm and the transit troubles had made me miserable and weary. But Garth's words immediately invigorated me and put a smile back on my face. Garth's actions also made me realize that words of appreciation not only make you feel good but it also motivates and inspires you. After reading his email, I felt that coming to work that day was an accomplishment that I should be proud of. Suddenly getting drenched and the extremely long commute did not seem so bad. As a matter of fact, his email made the whole subway ordeal all worthwhile. Sometimes we are so wrapped up in our lives that we forget the magical power of appreciation. Garth had been caught in the rain like the rest of us. He had to tend to his responsibilities. He also had to cope with the numerous absences in the five areas that he manages. And he had to take on his boss' responsibilities, as she was unable to get to work. Yet, he still found time to send an email thanking his employees for their dedication and the extra effort they had made to get to work. Garth taught me that I should never be too busy to show people my appreciation and to acknowledge the positive things they do. This was the most valuable lesson that anyone could ever give me. And for that, I will always be grateful to Garth. August 26, 1999 may have been one of the darkest days in New York City history, but it was one of the brightest days in my life thanks to Garth.

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arrow right Cheering Me On

I close my eyes as tight as they can go. The lights go off, and my imagination switches on. Pictures flash through my mind like an old film from the fifties. I remember driving home by myself for the first time. Now, I look into the future and imagine that I am walking across the stage to receive my college diploma. The years pass, and I hear my fianc é say

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arrow right A Love Story

One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Ah, the beauty of God's creation is beyond description. As I watched, I praised God for His beautiful work. As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me. He asked me, "Do you love me?" I answered,

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arrow right Ass and the Mule, The

A Muleteer set forth on a journey, driving before him an Ass and a Mule, both well laden. The Ass, as long as he traveled along the plain, carried his load with ease, but when he began to ascend the steep path of the mountain, felt his load to be more than he could bear. He entreated his companion to relieve him of a small portion, that he might carry home the rest; but the Mule paid no attention to the request. The Ass shortly afterwards fell down dead under his burden. Not knowing what else to do in so wild a region, the Muleteer placed upon the Mule the load carried by the Ass in addition to his own, and at the top of all placed the hide of the Ass, after he had skinned him. The Mule, groaning beneath his heavy burden, said to himself:

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arrow right A Tragedy or Blessing?

Years ago in Scotland, the Clark family had a dream. Clark and his wife worked and saved, making plans for their nine children and themselves to travel to the United States. It had taken years, but they had finally saved enough money and had gotten passports and reservations for the whole family on a new liner to the United States. The entire family was filled with anticipation and excitement about their new life. However, seven days before their departure, a dog bit the youngest son. The doctor sewed up the boy but hung a yellow sheet on the Clarks' front door. Because of the possibility of rabies, they were being quarantined for fourteen days. The family's dreams were dashed. They would not be able to make the trip to America as they had planned. The father, filled with disappointment and anger, stomped to the dock to watch the ship leave - without the Clark family. The father shed tears of disappointment and cursed both his son and God for their misfortune. Five days later, the tragic news spread throughout Scotland - the mighty Titanic had sunk. The unsinkable ship had sunk, taking hundreds of lives with it. The Clark family was to have been on that ship, but because a dog had bitten the son, they were left behind in Scotland. When Mr. Clark heard the news, he hugged his son and thanked him for saving the family. He thanked God for saving their lives and turning what he had felt was a tragedy into a blessing. Although we may not always understand, all things happen for a reason.

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arrow right A Story To Live By

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.

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arrow right The Perfect Mistake

My Mother's father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to orphanages 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 had 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 China! The Great Depression was at its height and Grandpa had six children. He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. He was really upset by the thought of having to buy another pair.

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arrow right Sacrifice Play

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main streamed into conventional schools. At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all that attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out,

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arrow right Alabaster Boxes

Do not keep the alabaster boxes of your love and tenderness sealed up, until your friends are dead. Fill their lives with sweetness. Speak approving, cheering words while their ears can hear them and while their hearts can be thrilled and made happier by them. The kind things you mean to say when they are gone, say them before they go. The flowers you mean to send-use to brighten and sweeten their homes before they leave them. If my friends have alabaster boxes lay away, full of fragrant perfumes of sympathy and affection I would rather they would bring them out in my weary and troubled hours and open them, that I may be refreshed and cheered when I need them. Let us learn to anoint our friends beforehand. Post-mortem kindness does not cheer the burdened spirit. Flowers cast no fragrance backward over the weary way.

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arrow right Christian Pickup Lines

1) Nice bible. 2) I would like to pray with you. 3) You know Jesus? Me too. 4) God told me to come talk to you. 5) I know a church where we could go and talk. 6) How about a hug, sister? 7) Do you need help carrying your bible? It looks heavy. 8) Christians don't shake hands, Christians gotta hug. 9) Oh you are cold, Ecclesiastes 4:11. 10) Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven? 11) What are your plans for tonight? Feel like a bible study? 12) I am here for you. 13) The word says

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arrow right Quote

"There are two ways of constructing a software design; one way is to make it so simple that there are obviously no deficiencies, and the other way is to make it so complicated that there are no obvious deficiencies. The first method is far more difficult."

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arrow right Eternal Ink

I dreamed I was in heaven Where an angel kept God's book. He was writing so intently I just had to take a look. It was not, at first, his writing That made me stop and think But the fluid in the bottle That was marked eternal ink. This ink was most amazing, Dark black upon his blotter But as it touched the parchment It became as clear as water. The angel kept on writing, But as quickly as a wink The words were disappearing With that strange eternal ink. The angel took no notice, But kept writing on and on. He turned each page and filled it Till all its space was gone. I thought he wrote to no avail, His efforts were so vain For he wrote a thousand pages That he'd never read again. And as I watched and wondered that This awesome sight was mine, I actually saw a word stay black As it dried upon the line. The angel wrote and I thought I saw A look of satisfaction. At last he had some print to show For all his earnest action. A line or two dried dark and stayed As black as black can be, But strangely the next paragraph Became invisible to see. The book was getting fuller, The angel's records true, But most of it was blank, with Just a few words coming through. I knew there was some reason, But as hard as I could think, I couldn't grasp the significance Of that eternal ink. The mystery burned within me, And I finally dared to ask The angel to explain to me Of his amazing task. And what I heard was frightful As the angel turned his head. He looked directly at me, And this is what he said... I know you stand and wonder At what my writing's worth But God has told me to record The lives of those on earth. The book that I am filling Is an accurate account Of every word and action And to what they do amount. And since you have been watching I must tell you what is true; The details of my journal Are the strict accounts of YOU. The Lord asked me to watch you As each day you worked and played. I saw you as you went to church, I saw you as you prayed. But I was told to document Your life through all the week. I wrote when you were proud and bold, I wrote when you were meek. I recorded all your attitudes Whether they were good or bad. I was sorry that I had to write The things that make God sad. So now I'll tell the wonder Of this eternal ink, For the reason for its mystery Should make you stop and think. This ink that God created To help me keep my journal Will only keep a record of Things that are eternal. So much of life is wasted On things that matter not So instead of my erasing, Smudging ink and ugly blot. I just keep writing faithfully and Let the ink do all the rest For it is able to decide What's useless and what's best. And God ordained that as I write Of all you do and say Your deeds that count for nothing Will just disappear away. When books are opened someday, As sure as heaven is true; The Lord's eternal ink will tell What mattered most to you. If you just lived to please yourself The pages will be bare, And God will issue no reward For you when you get there. In fact, you'll be embarrassed, You will hang your head in shame Because you did not give yourself In love to Jesus' Name. Yet maybe there will be a few Recorded lines that stayed That showed the times you truly cared, Sincerely loved and prayed. But you will always wonder As you enter heaven's door How much more glad you would have been If only you'd done more. For I record as God sees, I don't stop to even think Because the truth is written With God's eternal ink. When I heard the angel's story I fell down and wept and cried For as yet I still was dreaming I hadn't really died. And I said: O angel tell the Lord That soon as I awake I'll live my life for Jesus- I'll do all for His dear sake. I'll give in full surrender; I'll do all He wants me to; I'll turn my back on self and sin And whatever isn't true. And though the way seems long and rough I promise to endure. I'm determined to pursue the things That are holy, clean and pure. With Jesus as my helper, I will win lost souls to Thee, For I know that they will live with Christ For all eternity. And that's what really matters When my life on earth is gone That I will stand before the Lord And hear Him say, well done. For is it really worth it As my life lies at the brink? And I realize that God keeps books With His eternal ink. Should all my life be focused On things that turn to dust? From this point on I'll serve the Lord; I can, I will, I must! I will NOT send blank pages Up to God's majestic throne For where that record's going now Is my eternal home. I'm giving all to Jesus I now have seen the link For I saw an angel write my life With God's eternal ink.

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arrow right Praying Hands

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy. After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines. They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works. When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were,

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arrow right A Little Dog Angel

High up in the courts of heaven today a little dog angel waits; with the other angels he will not play, but he sits alone at the gates. "For I know my master will come" says he, "and when he comes he will call for me." The other angels pass him by As they hurry toward the throne, And he watches them with a wistful eye as he sits at the gates alone.

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