A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation.
The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime.
But, a few days later, he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. "I've been thinking," he said. "I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me this stone."
Sometimes it's not the wealth you have but what's inside you that others need.
Friday, May 11, 2007
House Of 1000 Mirrors
Long ago in a small, far away village, there was place known as the House of 1000 Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place and decided to visit. When he arrived, he bounced happily up the stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the doorway with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as it could. To his great surprise, he found himself staring at 1000 other happy little dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great smile, and was answered with 1000 great smiles just as warm and friendly. As he left the House, he thought to himself, "This is a wonderful place. I will come back and visit it often."
In this same village, another little dog, who was not quite as happy as the first one, decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked into the door. When he saw the 1000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, "That is a horrible place, and I will never go back there again."
All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do you see in the faces of the people you meet? What reflection do others see when they look at you?
In this same village, another little dog, who was not quite as happy as the first one, decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked into the door. When he saw the 1000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, "That is a horrible place, and I will never go back there again."
All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do you see in the faces of the people you meet? What reflection do others see when they look at you?
When Will My Fingers Grow Back
A man came out of his home to admire his new truck. To his puzzlement, his three-year-old son was happily hammering dents into the shiny paint.
The man ran to his son, knocked him away, hammered the little boy's hands into a pulp as punishment. When the father calmed down, he rushed his son to the hospital.
Although the doctor tried desperately to save the crushed bones, he finally had to amputate the fingers from both the boy's hands. When the boy woke up from the surgery & saw his bandaged stubs, he innocently said, "Daddy, I'm sorry about your truck." Then he asked, "but when are my fingers going to grow back?"
The father went home and committed suicide.
Think about the story the next time you see someone spill milk at a dinner table or hear a baby crying. Think first before you lose your patience with someone u love. Trucks can be repaired. Broken bones & hurt feelings often can't. Too often we fail to recognize the difference between the person and the performance. People make mistakes. We are allowed to make mistakes. But the actions we take while in a rage will haunt us forever.
Pause and ponder. Think before you act. Be patient. Understand and love.
The man ran to his son, knocked him away, hammered the little boy's hands into a pulp as punishment. When the father calmed down, he rushed his son to the hospital.
Although the doctor tried desperately to save the crushed bones, he finally had to amputate the fingers from both the boy's hands. When the boy woke up from the surgery & saw his bandaged stubs, he innocently said, "Daddy, I'm sorry about your truck." Then he asked, "but when are my fingers going to grow back?"
The father went home and committed suicide.
Think about the story the next time you see someone spill milk at a dinner table or hear a baby crying. Think first before you lose your patience with someone u love. Trucks can be repaired. Broken bones & hurt feelings often can't. Too often we fail to recognize the difference between the person and the performance. People make mistakes. We are allowed to make mistakes. But the actions we take while in a rage will haunt us forever.
Pause and ponder. Think before you act. Be patient. Understand and love.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Most Beautiful Heart
One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.
Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?
The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."
"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.
"Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.
The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.
The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.
Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?
The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."
"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.
"Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.
The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.
The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.
Why Don't You Do Something?
A man distraught by all the pain and suffering he saw all around him broke down and banged his fists into the dirt.
His head turns upward and he yells at his God.
"Look at this mess. Look at all this pain and suffering. Look at all this killing and hate. God. Oh God! WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING!!"
And his God spoke to him and said
"I did. I sent you."
His head turns upward and he yells at his God.
"Look at this mess. Look at all this pain and suffering. Look at all this killing and hate. God. Oh God! WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING!!"
And his God spoke to him and said
"I did. I sent you."
Monday, May 7, 2007
Kenny & The Dead Donkey
A city boy, Kenny, moved to the country and bought a donkey from an old farmer for $100.00. T he farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day.
The next day the farmer drove up and said, "Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died last night."
Kenny replied: "Well then, just give me my money back."
The farmer said: "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."
Kenny said: "OK then, just unload the donkey."
The farmer asked: "What you goanna do with him?"
Kenny: "I'm going to raffle him off." (Note: To raffle is to sell a thing by lottery - draw lot - to a group of people each paying the same amount for a ticket)
Farmer: "You can't raffle off a dead donkey!"
Kenny: "Sure I can. Watch me. I just won't tell anybody he's dead."
A month later the farmer met up with Kenny and asked, "What happened with that dead donkey?"
Kenny: "I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars a piece and Made a profit of $998.00."
Farmer: "Didn't anyone complain?"
Kenny: "Just the guy who won. So I gave him back his two dollars."
Kenny grew up and eventually became the CEO of the American Energy Company : Enron
The next day the farmer drove up and said, "Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died last night."
Kenny replied: "Well then, just give me my money back."
The farmer said: "Can't do that. I went and spent it already."
Kenny said: "OK then, just unload the donkey."
The farmer asked: "What you goanna do with him?"
Kenny: "I'm going to raffle him off." (Note: To raffle is to sell a thing by lottery - draw lot - to a group of people each paying the same amount for a ticket)
Farmer: "You can't raffle off a dead donkey!"
Kenny: "Sure I can. Watch me. I just won't tell anybody he's dead."
A month later the farmer met up with Kenny and asked, "What happened with that dead donkey?"
Kenny: "I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars a piece and Made a profit of $998.00."
Farmer: "Didn't anyone complain?"
Kenny: "Just the guy who won. So I gave him back his two dollars."
Kenny grew up and eventually became the CEO of the American Energy Company : Enron
Sunday, May 6, 2007
A Crummy Lesson
Mrs. Baughman was a Sunday School class teacher in my 6th grade class.
One morning she brought a pan of brownies to our class. As the goodies
sat tantalizingly over by her chair she gave each child a slip of
paper marked with a household expense: house payment, phone bill,
credit card bill, entertainment, and so forth. My slip had car payment
on it.
Before long, Mrs. Baughman picked up the tray of fresh brownies and
began naming the expenses named on the papers. As we gave her our
expense slips, she redeemed each one for a brownie from the pan.
Finally, the last brownie had disappeared. But one boy named Donald
still held his unredeemed slip. "God!" called Mrs. Baughman. Donald
came forward, hoping the teacher had one more brownie hidden somewhere.
With a knife, Mrs. Baughman scraped the crumbs from the bottom of the
pan into Donald's napkin. He got a pretty raw deal, I thought - just
the crumbs.
"The brownies represent your money," the teacher explained to us. "If
you don't give God his share right away, he probably won't get
anything at all except maybe the crumbs."
We never forgot that illustration from our 6th grade Sunday School
class. It was the day my friend Donald got only brownie scrapings, and
I learned that God should have 1st rights to everything I have. In the
years since, I have struggled with giving and priorities, but whenever
I recall that "crummy Sunday morning lesson", I know who must come
first in my life.
One morning she brought a pan of brownies to our class. As the goodies
sat tantalizingly over by her chair she gave each child a slip of
paper marked with a household expense: house payment, phone bill,
credit card bill, entertainment, and so forth. My slip had car payment
on it.
Before long, Mrs. Baughman picked up the tray of fresh brownies and
began naming the expenses named on the papers. As we gave her our
expense slips, she redeemed each one for a brownie from the pan.
Finally, the last brownie had disappeared. But one boy named Donald
still held his unredeemed slip. "God!" called Mrs. Baughman. Donald
came forward, hoping the teacher had one more brownie hidden somewhere.
With a knife, Mrs. Baughman scraped the crumbs from the bottom of the
pan into Donald's napkin. He got a pretty raw deal, I thought - just
the crumbs.
"The brownies represent your money," the teacher explained to us. "If
you don't give God his share right away, he probably won't get
anything at all except maybe the crumbs."
We never forgot that illustration from our 6th grade Sunday School
class. It was the day my friend Donald got only brownie scrapings, and
I learned that God should have 1st rights to everything I have. In the
years since, I have struggled with giving and priorities, but whenever
I recall that "crummy Sunday morning lesson", I know who must come
first in my life.
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