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Every Step Of The Way


I saw something wonderful the other day. I was on my way to pick up some groceries with my cousin in the car. It was a brisk, sunny day with peak Fall colors blessing the trees and my heart with their beauty. As a car in front of us came to a stop in order to turn off the highway, however, I saw something even more beautiful. A young mother was walking along holding the hand of her toddler. When they reached the safety of an empty church parking lot the mother suddenly let go of her child's hand and watched as the 2 year old joyfully ran ahead as fast as his little feet could carry him.

I smiled when I saw the little guy toddling along with his mom walking behind him. It took me back so many years to the first time I was let go of my own hand by my Mom. My Mom was scared watching me run ahead when I was barely able to walk, but She knew it was time. She had to let them go so I could grow. She had to let me walk, trip, and even hit the dirt knowing that I would get back up, dust myself off, and try again. She had to let me run ahead trusting that at some point I would turn around and run back into her arms.

In a lot of ways we are like those little toddlers. We are Children of God just beginning to walk on our own in this world. While God lovingly watches over us we run ahead, stumble and fall, get back up and try again. We learn how to walk, we learn how to think, we learn how to live, and we learn how to love. And as we journey through this life hopefully we all one day grow wise enough to turn around and run back into our Heavenly Father's loving arms.

On your own travels through this world remember that you never walk alone. God loves you and is walking with you every step of the way. May your every step lead you to greater growth, learning, and love. May your every stride bring you a little closer to Heaven.


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Humility and the Hitchhiker
Continued ...


As I drove off I was in tears because I was so touched. You see, I felt as though I just handed myself $50. I always pray that I can be of use to my fellow man, and I believe that God puts people in our lives for a reason. The Bible also says give and you shall receive. What I received today was a small miracle from a homeless man with blue eyes that reminded me there is still some good in this world, that I have a lot to be grateful for. Honestly, I don't think the money or the cigarettes meant nearly as much to him as receiving a smile, and a display of genuine kindness in what can be such a cold, cruel world. I am truly touched, I almost feel like I was looking into the eyes of my higher power. In a sense, I was, because he is out there, all I have to do is look.

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Humility and the Hitchhiker @american

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All The Little Things


Over the years I have learned that the best lives are built one choice and one change at a time. They are not built on some big triumph or accomplishment but rather on all the little things we choose to do every single day. What are some of these little things that you can do to change your own life? Here are just a few of them.

Say "Good Morning God!" when you wake up everyday. Watch the sunrise. Watch the sunset. Watch the birds flying across the sky. Smell the flowers. Play in the leaves. Make snow angels. Pet your pets. Play with your kids. Pray. Smile at that person in the mirror. Smile at that stranger on the street. Wave. Hug your children. Hug your friends. Hug yourself. Care and sometimes cry. Sing and sometimes dance. Read an uplifting book. Write an uplifting letter. Laugh often. Encourage those around you. Offer to help another. Give a compliment. Pat a back. Shake a hand. Share a kiss. Say "Please." Say "Thank You." Say "Your Welcome." Take a walk. Take a nap. Take a moment to thank God for today. Enjoy a meal. Hum a tune. Whistle while you work. Listen to music. Listen to the birds singing. Listen to people. Be kind. Be compassionate. Do good. Live simply. Give much. Expect nothing in return.

Most of all, though, just love. Choose love. Share love. Learn of love. Grow in love. Pray for love. Delight in love. Become one with God's love. Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. Love yourself. Love everyone else in this world as you love yourself. Love and have joy in that love.

All of these little things build the best life. All of these little choices create a life of love and light. All of these little changes fill you with Heaven and happiness. Try them all. Build a better life, a better you, and a better world.


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Memories of my Nana ...

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The secret Ingredient: Love


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Giving is what life is all about. @american

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One Kind Act Starts A Lifetime Of Love

I was sitting in a chair, sipping iced tea out of a thermos, and trying to stay awake. The group of adults around me were trying to do the same. We were all there to renew our first aid cards for our jobs working with the handicapped. The room was an old converted day treatment area and wasn't meant for so many people. Even with the air conditioning it felt hot and stuffy. All of us there had taken the class many times before and knew the material by heart. Despite the instructor's best efforts then, it remained a struggle to stay focused.

Suddenly, several screams from the women in the classroom jarred me wide awake. A small field mouse had somehow gotten into the building and was scurrying by their feet. After a few more startled screams the mouse ran behind a bookcase on the far side of the room. Not wanting the little guy to be hurt, I found a clear plastic container on one of the bookshelves. After moving the bookcase aside I dropped the bottom of the container on top of the mouse. Then I slowly slid the lid under it until he couldn't get loose.

Picking up the container I headed outside and walked over to a patch of woods near the building. I sat the container down and opened it. The mouse looked up at me for a brief second and then made a break for freedom. I smiled as I watched the little guy go. As I headed back to the classroom I looked up to the Heavens and felt my spirit soaring as high as the clouds above.

How many kind acts does it take to uplift your soul: one.
How many gentle hugs does it take to help heal someone's hurting heart: one. How many smiles does it take to brighten another's day: one.
How many gifts of love does it take to make this world a better place: one.
How many prayers does it take to get Heaven's help: one.
How many good things do you have to do to make God smile: just one.
Begin today then. One kind act starts a lifetime of love.


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Smokey Mountains Tennessee

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On your travels through this world remember that you never walk alone.


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Humility and the Hitchhiker!


I never pick up hitch-hikers as a rule. I don't know what moved me to do so today. I was heading from North 5 to Valencia and he was just outside of North 5 Freeway. He jumped in and said "thanks for stopping".

As we were conversing, I noticed he reeked of booze. I also noticed his wrinkled, sun darkened face, his shoddy hair and clothes, unshaven face, and only the clothes on his back.

But what I noticed most was his piercing, large blue eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and I believe it, if you look closely, you can pretty much tell the kind of soul a person has through their eyes. His eyes were almost indescribable. They were so mesmerizing, not an ounce of hate in them. Looking at his very rough exterior, I could tell he'd been down a very hard road. Somehow, despite the road he had been down, there was no hate in his eyes...only love.

I recently had bought a pack of cigarettes wanting to see what they taste like, I asked him if he wanted a smoke, and he said yes, so I gave him my unopened pack, then I let him keep the whole pack, for which he seemed genuinely grateful for. I started asking him where he was from, where he was headed, does he have family, etc. He proceeded to tell me he had been on the road for 6 days, coming from Arizona where he had recently had a heart attack and heart surgery. He was pretty much healed up but couldn't find work. He had his bed roll and backpack stolen in Colorado. He was heading back to his birthplace of Kansas City, Mo. He said he lost his wife to a brain tumor 10 years ago, and she is buried in Norman, Oklahoma. He said he never had kids because his wife couldn't have any. He had no family aside from cousins, whom he'd lost, touch with over the years. We talked the rest of the way about politics, and other superficial stuff, all the while, my gut was telling me there was something about this guy that I couldn't put my finger on, but it was something special.

The whole time I was kind of reflecting on my own life. I mean, here is a homeless man that just had heart surgery, but was smoking and drinking.

So we get to Valencia and I say "well, this is the end of my line." He says, "I really appreciate the ride and the cigarettes." To which I replied, “no problem, when we stop, I'm going to give you some money too." (A decision I had subconsciously made miles back down the road.) He said thank you, I can get a cup of coffee or something.

I would like to clarify at this point, my whole reason for telling this story. It's not that I want a pat on the back...could care less about that. It's not that I felt sorry for the guy, although I definitely empathized with him. I have over the years, on many occasions given food and/or money to homeless people. Again, no pat on back wanted or needed. On many of those occasions, it was quite obvious that said homeless person was going to drink the money right up. The Bible says something to the effect of "give with your right hand, and don't tell your left hand." To me, that means don't gloat. It means do the right things for the right reasons without expecting anything in return. That is something my parents deserve credit for.

As I mentioned, I told him I was going to give him some money. I was thinking maybe $20 bucks. When I reached in my wallet, something compelled me to pull out a $50 dollar bill. I handed him the 50, and he looked at me with those piercing blue eyes surrounded by that weathered face with a look of astonishment that I can't describe, but I found myself fighting back tears. He was obviously both surprised and genuinely grateful. He struggled to say thank you, and he shook my hand. He got out of the vehicle and before he shut the door he looked at me with those eyes again, as if he was looking into MY soul, and said, " thanks again, you really don't know what this means to me." I said, “you have no idea what it means to me!"

Continued...
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Memories of my Nana!


Memory is often the source of our greatest joys as well as our deepest regrets. I cherish every memory I have of my grandma Nana, but at the same time I regret no longer being able to create new ones with her. My Nana left this world when I was only 17 years old. I was far too young and foolish then to realize what a blessing every moment with her was. I never got a chance to say, "Thank You" to her for all of them.

All I can do now then is to share these memories with you and pray that Nana will be reading this as well by God's side in Heaven. I also pray that you too will take today to thank all those who bless your life with their love.

Nana, I remember all of those little bowls of cereal you would bring me as a bedtime snack when I was a little girl. I remember all of those stories you would read to me before bed and how safe and loved I felt when you tucked me in at night.

Nana, I remember you showing me how to pop popcorn in our old cast iron skillet, how you smiled when I sometimes burned it, and how we would share it out of a big bowl when we watched TV together.

Nana, I remember how scared you were when I wrecked my bicycle and split my head open. I remember you rushing me to the hospital for stitches and calming me even though you were more frightened than I was. I remember too another time in the hospital when I woke up alone and terrified after having my tonsils taken out only to see you sitting by my side with a bowl of ice cream.

Nana, I remember the time you spanked my butt when I took something that didn't belong to me and I remember looking into your eyes after it was done and seeing that it hurt you more than it hurt me.

Nana, I remember when you spent hours walking with me searching for my dog, Rocky, when he ran away. You never let me lose hope. I remember too you putting him in my bed after he finally found his own way home.

Nana, I remember every time you inspired me to work hard, do good in school, and go on to college. I also remember all those boxes of food you and Dad would bring to me when I was in college. You always kept my stomach full and my mind hungry.

Nana, I remember you teaching me to drive even though I nearly scared you to death when I got behind the wheel. You taught me well and never gave up, even when it cost you a scratched bumper and a few more gray hairs.

Nana, I remember you crying with joy the first time I ever wrote something about how much you meant to me. It was the best encouragement this writer ever got.

Nana, I remember all the lessons you taught me about patience, humor, and courage when you faced your long battle with cancer. It may have finally taken your body, but it never got your spirit. I also remember how you always ended our phone calls those last years of your life with those three words that live on inside of me today: "I Love You!"

Nana, I would give everything I have for just one more hug from you. You gave me so much love. You helped make my heart and soul what they are today. I love you and will continue to love you more every single day of my life.

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The Secret Ingredient

My German Grandmother's spaghetti sauce was a wonder to behold. After church on Sundays our family would always gather around for a huge dinner that was more a feast than a meal. For hours before, the smell of the simmering sauce would fill the house and I would breathe in deep with delight. My Nana would slowly cook German sausages, meatballs, potatoes, and pieces of chicken in it too. Then she would boil enough spaghetti to feed a small army and slice the loaves of German bread she had baked earlier. When I finally sat down at the table I could feel my tastebuds jumping for joy in my mouth.

By the time dinner was done both my stomach and my heart would be full of happiness.

For years I tried to duplicate my Nana's recipe but was never able to get it exactly right. I would always measure out just the right amounts of garlic, parsley, bay leaves, salt, sugar, pepper, and olive oil to add to the tomato sauce. I would simmer it slowly and stir it with care, but it never came out as good as hers. Finally one day it dawned on me that I was missing the secret ingredient that made hers so special: LOVE.

You see, Nana always served her spaghetti with a big smile, a gentle hug, and the loving words: "Essen! Essen!" Which means "Eat! Eat!" I could always taste her love for us in every bite.

Love is the secret ingredient in life too. The more you love the more your life will taste like joy. The more love you give to others the more your days will become a feast of happiness that never ends. The more love you share the more you become like the greatest chef of all: God.

I think that I will try my hand at making Nana's sauce again this week. It may never taste as good as hers, but cooking it will bring back the memories of her love and laughter. And while I am slowly stirring it I may even feel her and God smiling down on me from Heaven.

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It's Better To Give Than Receive


I had been coming to my university with hard boiled eggs in the morning for myself every day this past week. I am a TA here too, and the other TA(teacher assistant) at the desk next to me noticed and kindly asked if I could bring in one for her one day. Naturally, I agreed.

A couple days go by and I forgot to bring her an egg. It was the last egg too, I had no more at the house and rarely go out to buy eggs to be honest. And I love hard boiled eggs more than anything, especially since that is all I eat for breakfast.

I started to tell my intern how I forgot to bring her an egg and was going to have to eat my egg in secret upstairs so that she did not know. My intern sarcastically replied "Or you could just give it to her".

It hit me right then and there. Why did I not think to give it to her instead of being selfish? I really wanted that egg and debated in my head for a few minutes before my co-worker's arrival on what to do. I finally made my decision.

She was minding her business and typing up a report when I stuck my hand in my lunch bag and presented her with the egg. Her face lit up, a huge smile that I can not even put in words. She was surprised and excited at the same time, thanking me over and over.

I learned at that moment that the feeling I received from giving was 10 times better than the feeling I would have received from consuming the hard boiled egg myself.

It's the little things like this that you remember and make an impact on your life. I will never forget the look on her face, and the satisfaction I got from that one simple gesture. That's what life is about.

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Milan Kundera
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If you are not planting a tree, at least respect it!


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It's Worth It


The mattock cut into the ground again and again. Every time I raised it I slammed it down even harder. It felt as heavy in my arms as my broken heart did in my chest. Still, I powered through the pain and finished loosening up the dirt. I tossed the mattock aside, picked up a shovel and began to dig. Sweat and tears burned my eyes but I didn't stop. I kept going until the aching in my arms and back matched the aching of my soul. Only when I was too exhausted to go on did I finally drop the shovel and look down at the body of my friend. My old pal of thirteen years lay stiff upon the ground. My beloved dog was gone.

Harley was a black Lab and Husky mix that we had rescued from a shelter. Over the years he had made friends with every neighbor I had. His gentle manner and wagging tail won over every heart. His big, furry body attracted hugs like a magnet. His fun-loving nature made everyone smile. He was as sweet, loyal, and loving a friend as any man could ever want. I was a better person because he was in my life, but now his time with me had passed.

I gently lifted his body into the grave I had dug and thanked God again for giving him to me for so long. As I covered the grave with dirt and heavy rocks I thought about what someone had asked me: "Why do you have dogs when you are only going to go through such pain?" As I finished my work and wiped the dirt, sweat and tears from my face I knew the answer.

Because it is worth it. The Love is worth the pain! The Love is ALWAYS worth the pain! We are meant for love. God put us here to love. If death and pain are part of the price we must pay for that love, then I will pay it. Love is what makes life worth living. And love transcends even death.

As I walked out of the woods I pictured Harley young and healthy again. I smiled at him as he wagged his tail and told my old friend to return to the love that made him, just as we all will one day do.

I love you Harley. I miss you. You were my dog and my friend and you blessed my life more than I can say. Thank you for the love you shared and the joy you gave.


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Ode to Dolly, and the jar flies


I, by no means, am, as wealthy, or as famous as Dolly, but, I, like her, grew up in a rural part of Tennessee, as a part of a rather large family of six cousins, along with my parents. Eight people in a very large house, made from some creativity on the part of my Daddy and Mom. It was also a home with a huge front porch, and, I even recall a few straight back chairs. (We used them as sleds in the snow, talk about getting creative, huh?)

As I grow older, I seem to be getting more sentimental, although, I must say, I have always been one to sometimes analyze things and places I have been, that stirs a memory, and found myself as a child thinking about people around me, or, the ones who had already passed on. I have always enjoyed history, so, call it being sentimental, or, just too much time on my hands.

I was out early this morning, and was hearing what we called "jar flies", when I was growing up. I really don't know the real name of these "bugs", but, just the sound of them, took me back to my days as a child, growing up in Jackson County, Tennessee. We worked hard in the "baccer patch", everything from getting the baccer beds ready in late February usually, watching workers setting out the baccer in spring, plowing, hoeing, uncovering, to topping. It was with the sound of the "jar flies", that brought the time for them to start cutting the tobacco, to get it ready for hanging in the barn to cure for stripping in late October, early November, so it could be hauled off to market for sale.

There was always something about the sound of the jar fly, that, not only meant, hot, hard days of work, but, it also signaled the upcoming change of seasons from summer, to fall. The time of year that we gathered walnuts, put them in the gravel road, so that whatever vehicle came along, would crush the outer hull, so, that we could pick them back up for drying, and for cracking, to get the "goody" out.

Its amazing how the mind works, to hold something as silly as a jar fly sound in ones mind, or, a June Bug on a string, along with Honeysuckle vines clinging to a fence along the lane, that becomes a memory that takes me back to my childhood days. (Again, maybe too much time on my hands). Nonetheless, hearing the sound this morning, and, seeing a couple of June Bugs flyin', made me think of Dolly's song, and, my life with my family. It was those days that I hated at the time, that being, that Workers had to drop tobacco sticks usually in early August. It however, allowed me time to listen to the sounds around me, especially the "Jar Fly", off in the fields and trees nearby.

Life passes us daily, and, it has always been passing. I suppose as a child I never really paid that much attention to it, although, I, probably like any other child, thought about what, or where my life might take me. And, I like everyone one else have had life experiences, I never expected, some good, some bad. And, my family, like all others, have endured lifes ups and down, again, some good, some bad. But, it is the sound of the lil ol Jar Fly, that takes me back to a simpler, easier time, when I was a child, and stirs what now has become good memories, for this 20 year old, little girl.

P.S. Listen to Dolly Parton's "Tennessee Mountain Home" on Youtube, as you read this.....

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Take a look at an Apple tree. It might be five hundred apples on a tree, each containing about ten seeds. Right?

You may ask, "Why all these seeds are necessary to add only a few more trees?"

Here nature will teach us a lesson;

"Since naturally most seeds won't grow into an apple tree, then if you desire to see some results, it is best to try more than once. "

Then how do you obtain any results:

 You attain 20 interviews to get a job,

 Interview 40 before you hire a qualified person,

Should pitch to at least fifty people before selling a car, a house, cleaning, insurance or even your ideas.

And you will have to know a hundred people to find one good friend.

The "Seed law" does not understand the desperation and do not easily feel defeated.

in short:

Successful people the more they fail, the more they plant seeds.

By "Dr. Alireza Afshar"

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