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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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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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One Miracle After Another
My morning has been filled with one Miracle after another. I just got back from a Book Authors conference in Philly and this was my experience trying to get home after massive air delays!
My Flight got cancelled on Wed. night and I was just going to sleep on the floor at the Marriott.
A very young African girl came strolling by with her 9 mo old baby and asked me why I was sleeping on the floor.
I told her about my flight and she said her flight was cancelled also and her airline bought her a room with 2 beds.
She offered me her other bed. I was shocked! I told her I would be ok and I could do anything for one night.
She offered again! So I said YES...
She was starving and very tired. We went to the gift shop and she only bought a little lemon cake. Her baby didn't have food but he had a bottle.
She didn't know how to use the coffee maker in the room so I helped her and we made a bottle for the baby.
I found out her name is Rachel and her baby is Ian. (My cousin's name is Rachael and my grandson is Ian.)
She came from Africa 7 years ago and is living with an Aunt in Toronto. She went to school and received her RN(registered nurse) and was working at a hospital in Toronto.
Rachel visits her babies dad in Boston and was on her way home and got delayed.
After we talked for a few minutes she crawled in her bed with her dress on and the baby in his clothes and they went to sleep. It was only 8:30 pm.
I wanted to stay up all night and write about my experiences of the week and, out of respect for her, I crawled in bed also.
We were awakened at midnight by her boyfriend with a call through the Marriott phone in the room. She was apologizing and telling him what had happened and she had just fallen asleep.
Rachel told him not to forget her because she was very hungry and needed some food. I had a hard time sleeping after that because I wanted her and the baby to have food.
I made a promise to Heavenly Father that I would buy her some food from room service before I left in the morning and then I fell asleep.
My flight was early the next morning and I thought I had calculated the time to take a quick shower and grab my luggage and go. I realized my time was off and I would have to have a miracle to get to my flight on time.
I knelt down on the floor by the toilet and bathtub and ask God if I could please be an influence for good this day and get Rachel some food, and could he please let my conversations be led with power and I would be able to talk to the most influential people that day that would make a difference in my many businesses and my life. Amen.
I looked at my watch and knew I would not make my flight on time but I had made a promise to God and I would have to just pray it all worked out.
I hurried to the front desk and asked them if they could send room service to her room and could I pay for it. They were confused so I told them the whole story. Then I said, "I only have 45 min to get to my plane and I need your help quickly." I was very nice and persistent. :) I hurried to the restaurant and the older lady started punching keys on the computer and then a little annoyed she looked at me and said, "I don't even know what to order for a baby!" I gave her some ideas and she finally told me to just go get on the shuttle and she would take care of it. So I handed her my credit card and told her just to put as much money as she thought was necessary on Rachel's room and she looked at me again and told me to go get on the shuttle and she would take care of it. I had tears in my eyes as I ran for the shuttle and I opened his front door before he could get out and I asked how soon he was going to the airport.
Continued...
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The no name...Continued ...
The field was a bare green uneven slope, the ground curved now and then at what might have been a grave. I remember it began to rain heavily. I ran all over that small hill trying to find some clue as to where my father might be buried. The more I searched the more I freaked out, like an animal with a sudden deep cut, until I collapsed sobbing in the middle of the wet green.
I realized that for the first time in my life I was finally grieving for my father. Not just for him, but also for all the things that seemed lost to us. I had been so angry and so busy changing everything for Mom, Brian and me; I'd left out the one person in my life who had needed help the most.
Sitting there in the rain, I finally understood that some people simply don't know, and may never know, how to be their best selves, that often bad things happen to them that makes them the way they are, and, if no one reaches out to help them get free, or if they're not strong enough to do it for themselves, there's simply no way for them to change.
I stayed there in the field until it was dusk and Mrs. Lewis found me with her flashlight. I poured out my story to her and she took me back to her office to go through dusty files. From faded records and plot maps, she was able to pinpoint a narrow patch by a rowan bush where my father lay in his no-name place. Then she asked me what I wanted to do. "I'll come by tomorrow," I said hesitantly, "with some flowers."
"No time like the present," Mrs. Lewis replied firmly. "Those folks out there... She nodded through the window to a line of white headstones. "You can bet some of them thought they had time to make things right." She turned and raised a bunch of orange tiger lilies from the vase on her desk and handed them to me.
It was quite dark when the two of us laid the lilies down in the muddy grass by the rowan tree. Mrs. Lewis explained that it was not allowed to place a headstone there. For that I would have to buy Dad a proper grave, and what would be the point of moving him after all this time? But...I had an ultimate scheme.
I had once seen "Meadow in a Can," in a local florist, cans of wild flower seeds that can be scattered to grow as they would in nature, their colors and blooms shooting up every which way. I would be back-to sow the whole damn field, a lush riot of flowers...an Eden for all those pushed-aside and misplaced people...and for my dad...at peace at last, I hope, knowing that his daughter finally honored him in that no-name resting place.
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This is the moment when you realize the "End" and the "Beginning" are the "Same".
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Better People
Mother Teresa of Calcutta was often quoted as saying: "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much." Over the years I have found myself often feeling the same way. I have had a blessed life, but it has never been an easy one. In my 26 years I have had to deal with sickness, injuries, accidents, and pain. I have had to deal with years of betrayal. I have had to deal with my brother's, the death of loved ones, and being separated from those I love. I have had to deal with anger, lies, confusion, depression and at times even despair.
Like so many before me I have asked the question: Why do bad things happen to good people? It is a question that has been asked throughout the ages. Books have even been written about it. It is a question that will never be answered completely this side of Heaven. Yet, looking back on my own life now I have to believe that at least part of the reason bad things happen to good people is to make them better people.
When I remember all that I have faced and gone through in this life, I realize that God has used all of it to eventually make me better. With pain came empathy. With grief came healing. With frustration came patience. With struggles came strength. With sorrow came joy. With depression came compassion. With anger came love. And with despair came trust in God. Every test, challenge, and tragedy eventually led me to greater goodness, greater love, and greater Oneness with our Heavenly Father.
None of us likes the negative experiences in life. None of us enjoys pain. None of us wants to go through sorrow. Still, the truth is that "God causes all things to work together for good for those who love Him." May each day here then help you to grow better and more loving.
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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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Change the world one drop at the time!
I changed the world today. It happened while I was driving home after going to the store with one of my little cousins.
I was just about to pull onto the side road that leads to my house when my little cousin started laughing in the back seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see his smiling face and then made the turn a little bit faster than normal. As soon as I did I saw a big dog walking down the road in my lane. Not having time to down shift I slammed on the brakes, screeched to a halt, and killed the engine in my car in the process.
As I sat there waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, the yellow dog stared at me calmly. I recognized it immediately as a neighbor's pet. I had often seen their little boy hugging and playing with the dog in their front yard. I rolled down my window and sternly told the pooch to go home. The huge dog looked at me for a second more then trotted away happily to its front porch while I restarted my car and thanked God for giving me a fast foot when I needed it.
Now you may ask how stomping on my brakes changed the world. My answer is that one little boy will be hugging his dog instead of crying into his pillow tonight. You see, most of us look for some big thing we can do to change the world or our lives, but I think Heaven keeps track of all the little things we do in our lives. And it is those little things that do change this world day by day and moment by moment.
You can change the world too. You can fill your life with acts of kindness and God's love everyday. You may not be able to end world hunger, but you can donate 50 pounds of food and keep a family from starving this month. You may not be able to bring peace to the world, but you can bring your peaceful spirit to the world around you. You may not be able to drive the hate and darkness from every human heart, but you can forever share the love and light in yours.
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...One Miracle .. Continued...
He said, "Right Now Mam!" I got in the shuttle in the front seat and I just started telling him the whole story. I was so confused why Rachel would be so trusting. He said, in a very loving way, "I am from Africa also and we are very trusting and loving people." I had tears in my eyes again. I asked him if he could give me some change so I could tip him and he told me he didn't want me to pay him. I insisted because he was helping me so much and he said he didn't want my money.
I did not argue and i just thanked him with all my heart. When we got close he told me to check my luggage at skycap and I told him I had never done that before so I didn't know how. He told me he would take care of me.
We got to the skycap and the lines were crazy. He told me to stay with him and he would take care of me cuz his friend Terrance was working. He took my luggage around the counter and handed it to Terrance and asked him to take care of me. They hugged and he started to walk away and I stopped him and asked him if I could give him a hug. I gave him the best hug and thanked him again with another tear in my eye.
Terrance pulled up my name and my ticket had FAILED... my heart sank! I told him I had checked in last night and everything worked. He looked at me and took my drivers license and walked inside and asked me to wait outside.
After 5 more long minutes he came back with a boarding ticket and a luggage tag. He said to tell Sam that he took care of me! I was walking on air all the way to security saying a silent prayer of gratitude for caring, loving people.
In the security line a woman and her husband were so friendly and shared about her dad dying and how they grieved and I just listened and let them know how much I cared. We got separated in the security process and the husband came and found me and thanked me for talking to them and told me I had a great smile. WOW moment! I was just wanting to be my authentic self and open my heart to people and I thought I would be the one in the space of giving today and I couldn't keep up with all the giving that was coming my way! God really doesn't let you get ahead when you are coming from a space of truth and service to your fellowman.
Another Miracle! I made it on my plane just in time to pick up a yogurt cup for breakfast and board the plane. Another Miracle! The man I sat next to on the plane helped me with a business plan to restructure my cousin's dental office! He knew we wouldn't be a threat to his business in Philly and he shared like crazy! I took 2 pages full of notes! He even gave me his cell phone number and I met his wife.
I arrived home and went straight to our church girls camp up in the mountains because I am their leader and I was a guest speaker that evening. I crawled in bed at 1:45 am ... What a beautiful day! Blessings to a sweet African girl that gave her trust to me!
Today I slept a lot... :)
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Bringing Out The Best In Us
I live in Los Angeles, California. My community and state are still recovering from the catastrophe that struck recently. A wall of storms with hurricane force winds struck late on a Friday evening knocking down trees, blocking roads, damaging homes, and destroying power lines. Hundreds of thousands of people suddenly found themselves in the dark without water, electricity, heater, telephones, internet, and television. They found themselves cut off from the modern world enduring freezing 0 degree cold plus brutal cold with no help and no idea when it would be over.
The most amazing thing happened, however, as the reality of the crisis sank in: it brought out the best in us. While there were a few acts of selfishness and stealing they were overwhelmed by the wave of love and compassion that came from the hearts of so many. People shared their food, water, and gasoline. People who still had power opened their homes to those who had none. People rushed out to clear roads and homes of fallen trees. Selfless power crews worked around the clock to repair the damage and restore electricity. People gathered on front porches to talk, share hugs and offer words of hope and faith that God would see them through it all. Strangers came together as one family to help each other in this time of great need. It was such a joy seeing all these people acting like true Children of God under the most trying of circumstances.
Life's disasters strike all of us from time to time. No one is spared. We all get hurt. We all get challenged. We all get squeezed by difficulties during our days here. How we respond to them, though, is up to us. We can let them bring out the worst in us or we can let them bring out the best in us. We can react to them like demons of selfishness or like angels of love. May you always bring the best from your heart and soul to whatever life may throw at you then. May you live all of your days here with so much love that Heaven sings and God smiles.
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The no name resting place
My father and I had been enemies since my feet first hit the floor.
And I was not the only one in the family that made him mad. He never got along with my Mom or my older brother either. When he and Mom would argue, they made the house a scary place. They would quarrel for hours over the stupidest things and even take their fights from room to room. If one of them walked away, the other would follow just to get the last word in!
My brother and I would clear out of their way, trying to keep their yelling at a distance. Often we'd end up in the backyard with the cats (who escaped with us, scared that dad might kick them). The backyard was a good place to go, because as pissed off as our parents were at each other, they had this weird thing of not taking their craziness into the street. They hated to think the neighbors might be listening. If we were lucky, we'd get out through the gate unnoticed and run off to a friend's house until things had calmed down.
Of the two of them, our Mom was the nicer person. She was kind, easily gave you hugs and always tried to make things right. It wasn't that hard to side with her against dad. The problem was the situation in our house became a war—three to one—year-in, year out. Mom wouldn't or couldn't divorce him. My family never had much money—and there was nowhere else for us to go. She promised she would never leave without Brian and me.
The situation didn't change until I was 16 and my brother 18. We both had dropped out of school and had jobs. This was the time I destroyed my father's life, as much as if I had taken a gun and shot him.
He was so much older than Mom and had become weak and pathetic (but could still act up.) I was so hell-bent on hating him and proving that I could defend my mother that I didn't pay any mind to a strange sadness that settled on him. I didn't care! I was busy plotting our ultimate escape!
My brother and I had planned a savings account together, each of putting a little cash in every month. A year passed and we finally had enough money to move out. I actually found this great apartment through a family counselor at my school, and told Mom we were all, at last, going to get free...of Dad. She took some convincing but we got her to agree and she left with us.
No one ever actually said to our father, "You can't come," but it was understood. He stayed behind, alone in the slummy, decrepit house we had all shared as a family. From that time on, he seemed to age very quickly into a fearful and lonely old man, grateful for any kind word or smile. My mother took pity on him and would have him over to Sunday lunch every week, but my brother and I just ignored him.
I managed, by some weird miracle, to get a scholarship to go to college and was a few weeks away from leaving town when the police called to tell us our father had been hit by a car. He had left a bar very drunk and had walked out into the traffic.
Mom and I visited Dad in the hospital, and for the first time since I was very little, I felt sad and guilty that he was badly hurt and in pain. He died alone a few days later. My mother and
I planned a cheap funeral on what was left of his pension. We were the only people at the graveside in an area of the cemetery that was quite barren. Dad had few friends and Brian flatly refused to come, saying, "Close the lid and walk away. He can't bother us anymore!" (My brother had taken a lot of abuse from Dad over the years.)
But Dad did bother us. At least he bothered me. A few summers later, when I was visiting Mom and Brian, I decided to go back to the cemetery alone to see if I could find his grave. I was curious, I guess. I found no headstone and was shocked to discover from the caretaker, Mrs. Lewis, and her lists of the dead, that he had been buried in the "Potters Field" side of the graveyard, where no name people and criminals were laid. (My mother had never told me she left him there because we had lacked the money to buy a plot.)
Continued...
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The Difference Between Rich And Poor
One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father. The son answered:
"I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon. We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight. We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs. We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."
The boy's father was speechless. Then his son added, "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."
Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.
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