Weakness or Strength?

Sometimes your biggest weakness can become your biggest strength. Take, for example, the story of one 10-year-old boy who decided to study judo despite the fact that he had lost his left arm in a devastating car accident.

The boy began lessons with an old Japanese judo master. The boy was doing well, so he couldn't understand why, after three months of training the master had taught him only one move.

"Sensei," the boy finally said, "Shouldn't I be learning more moves?"

"This is the only move you know, but this is the only move you'll ever need to know," the sensei replied.

Not quite understanding, but believing in his teacher, the boy kept training.

Several months later, the sensei took the boy to his first tournament. Surprising himself, the boy easily won his first two matches. The third match proved to be more difficult, but after some time, his opponent became impatient and charged; the boy deftly used his one move to win the match. Still amazed by his success, the boy was now in the finals.

This time, his opponent was bigger, stronger, and more experienced. For a while, the boy appeared to be overmatched. Concerned that the boy might get hurt, the referee called a time-out. He was about to stop the match when the sensei intervened.

"No," the sensei insisted, "Let him continue."

Soon after the match resumed, his opponent made a critical mistake: he dropped his guard. Instantly, the boy used his move to pin him. The boy had won the match and the tournament. He was the champion.

On the way home, the boy and sensei reviewed every move in each and every match. Then the boy summoned the courage to ask what was really on his mind.

"Sensei, how did I win the tournament with only one move?"

"You won for two reasons," the sensei answered. "First, you've almost mastered one of the most difficult throws in all of judo. And second, the only known defense for that move is for your opponent to grap your left arm."

The boy's biggest weakness had become his biggest strength.

by: Author Unknown, Bits & Pieces, August 15, 1996, Economic Press Inc


But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  2 Corinthians 12:9

My Brother's 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's elder 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, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over,
"No...no...no...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly,

"No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look, look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother...for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one, no one, ever makes it alone!

“Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.”  1 Peter 4: 10-11

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.

ONE STEP AT A TIME

It had been a tiring day. There were four of us in the car - and we were talking about a challenging situation that had come up at work. The bank would not give us a loan that we seriously needed to continue our business. Frankly speaking the very survival of our company was at stake. We knew we had a chance to put things right, but it would take a huge amount of work - and luck.

- The task is impossible, Mary finally said, - What´s the point in even trying. We´ll never succeed.

John, the eldest of us all, was driving the car. He hadn´t said much the whole time. But now he suddenly turned off the main road.

- Hey! What´s this? We need to get home! we protested.

- Sorry, there´s something wrong with the car. I know there´s a good garage here. Won´t take long.

We did not understand what could have been wrong with the car - it seemed to be running perfectly. But it was his car, so he ought to know. We returned to discuss the impending doom.

I gazed out of the window. The road went downhill for a long time. The terrain was rugged. I could see big trees - their form told of strong winds and drought.

Then a lake came into view. It was a big lake, dotted with tiny islands. There was a small village at the edge of the water. I had never been around here and would have enjoyed the view if I hadn´t been so worried.

John drove to the small village and sure enough - there was a garage there. A young man walked out when he saw us.

- John! Good to see you! He shook hands with John, - Problems with the car?

- Yes, lets go inside so I can explain.

They walked indoors. We didn´t want others to hear about our problems so we just stood there, hoping it wouldn´t take long to repair the car.

John walked out.

- We need to stay for an hour or two, he said.

- Thank goodness we had good breakfast, Bob said.

- But we don´t need to stay here. Let´s go out on the lake.

- You have a boat too?

- The garage owner said we could borrow his. I´ve used it before.

Well - there didn´t seem to be much else to do so we headed for the pier. There was a big, old fashioned motor boat. We got into the boat and John started the engine. The motor gave a deep roar and the boat glided effortlessly over the water. It was a bit windy, but not too much. The sun was peeking from between the clouds, painting brighter spots on the otherwise grey water. In other circumstances we would really have enjoyed this little boat trip.

John seemed to know where he was taking us so we just sat back and breathed deeply. The boat curved around the islands so that eventually we lost track of time and location. Then there were no more islands - except for one, a long way from the shore. It didn´t seem to have much vegetation. John headed right to it.

When we got nearer we saw an opening on the side of the island. Not a cave, but a deep crack in the rock. John carefully steered the boat through to the calm waters inside the island.

We gasped in awe. The island was circular in shape, the terraced slopes rose all around us. A natural harbor right in the middle of it was a real haven - no wind could reach this place. The waters were calm and small fish could be seen swimming under the boat. From the lake you would never have guessed there were so many trees inside the island. Lush green trees - but that was not all.

Roses. It was like someone had poured the colors of sunset inside the island. Veils of red, pink and white cascaded down the slopes. There must have been hundreds of rose bushes there. Butterflies and little birds were everywhere. The first touch of autumn had already started to color the trees with red and orange and they were aflame against the blue and white of the sky. It was so beautiful it was almost like we had somehow landed in a fairy tale.

We just sat there in total silence, surrounded by the wonderland of roses. Then John spoke.

- I wanted to bring you here to tell you a story. In the past this island was barren. There were some trees here, but that´s about it. A young fisherman lived here. You can see his little house over there.

John pointed at a little house behind the trees.

- One day he met a girl he wanted to marry. But he knew no young woman would want to live so far away from the shore on such a barren island. But he was a fisherman and knew no other way to make a living so he would have to stay on the island.

John smiled.

- Love is a mighty thing… This your fisherman decided he would make the island beautiful enough to the young woman in question. He made a plan. He bought a beautiful rose and some earth and brought them to this island. He planted the little rose and took the best care of it - and when the next summer came he noticed a big flower bud. When it began to open, he took his boat, fetched the girl and took her to see the beautiful rose. It had just opened, a deep red beautiful rose - the only speck of color on the island. He asked her to marry him and told he would love and take care of her, just like he had taken care of the delicate rose. He would make her life beautiful. She answered there was no need for roses - life was beautiful to her just because he was there.

And so they married. Years passed and they were young no more. They raised their children, they worked together. Life was hard but they were happy.

The fisherman never forgot his promise. From the day she said yes to his proposal, when ever he went out with his boat, he returned with a bucket of earth. When he got some extra money, he always bought her roses - and saplings. They planted them, the trees and the roses, one at a time, all over the island. And so this rocky island turned into a most beautiful garden.

The fisherman and his wife passed away many years ago already, but their roses are still here. They tell the story of their love - and remind us all what you can achieve if you put your mind to it. One step at a time.

John stopped talking. We didn´t want to say anything because that might break the spell of this enchanted island.

- When you say we won´t make it because we didn´t get one loan - think of this island. Think of the young man who started carrying the earth and roses here. This whole island was turned into a rose garden one bucket at a time. Thousands of buckets of earth from all around the lake. He and his wife made this island what it is. The Rose Island.

- One step at a time… I said and John nodded.

- So how about it? Are we going to give in - or shall we start carrying buckets of earth?

We decided we would carry the buckets. And there was nothing wrong with John´s car - he simply had decided to show us an example of succeeding by taking it one step at a time.

It took us over a year of hard work but we made it. Once I asked John how he learned of the story of the fisherman and his wife. He showed me a faded sepia photograph on the wall. An old couple was posing in a studio. He had an old fashioned suit, she wore a scarf.

- My great grandparents, he said, - His name was John. Can you guess what her name was?

I looked at what she was holding in her hands. A big… And I guessed right.

- Rose.

Saint Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day!  Thought you might like to read the history behind this special day! Kind of interesting!

History of Saint Valentine's Day

Under the rule of Emperor Claudius II Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular campaigns. Claudius the Cruel was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families. As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in Rome. The good Saint Valentine was a priest at Rome in the days of Claudius II. He and Saint Marius aided the Christian martyrs and secretly married couples, and for this kind deed Saint Valentine was apprehended and dragged before the Prefect of Rome, who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off. He suffered martyrdom on the 14th day of February, about the year 270.

St. Valentine's Story

Let me introduce myself. My name is Valentine. I lived in Rome during the third century. That was long, long ago! At that time, Rome was ruled by an emperor named Claudius. I didn't like Emperor Claudius, and I wasn't the only one! A lot of people shared my feelings.

Claudius wanted to have a big army. He expected men to volunteer to join. Many men just did not want to fight in wars. They did not want to leave their wives and families. As you might have guessed, not many men signed up. This made Claudius furious. So what happened? He had a crazy idea. He thought that if men were not married, they would not mind joining the army. So Claudius decided not to allow any more marriages. Young people thought his new law was cruel. I thought it was preposterous! I certainly wasn't going to support that law!

Did I mention that I was a priest? One of my favorite activities was to marry couples. Even after Emperor Claudius passed his law, I kept on performing marriage ceremonies -- secretly, of course. It was really quite exciting. Imagine a small candlelit room with only the bride and groom and myself. We would whisper the words of the ceremony, listening all the while for the steps of soldiers.

One night, we did hear footsteps. It was scary! Thank goodness the couple I was marrying escaped in time. I was caught. (Not quite as light on my feet as I used to be, I guess.) I was thrown in jail and told that my punishment was death.

I tried to stay cheerful. And do you know what? Wonderful things happened. Many young people came to the jail to visit me. They threw flowers and notes up to my window. They wanted me to know that they, too, believed in love.

One of these young people was the daughter of the prison guard. Her father allowed her to visit me in the cell. Sometimes we would sit and talk for hours. She helped me to keep my spirits up. She agreed that I did the right thing by ignoring the Emperor and going ahead with the secret marriages. On the day I was to die, I left my friend a little note thanking her for her friendship and loyalty. I signed it, "Love from your Valentine."

I believe that note started the custom of exchanging love messages on Valentine's Day. It was written on the day I died, February 14, 269 A.D. Now, every year on this day, people remember. But most importantly, they think about love and friendship. And when they think of Emperor Claudius, they remember how he tried to stand in the way of love, and they laugh -- because they know that love can't be beaten!

 

Valentine Traditions

Hundreds of years ago in England, many children dressed up as adults on Valentine's Day. They went singing from home to home. One verse they sang was:

Good morning to you, valentine;
Curl your locks as I do mine ---
Two before and three behind.
Good morning to you, valentine.

In Wales wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on February 14th. Hearts, keys and keyholes were favorite decorations on the spoons. The decoration meant, "You unlock my heart!"

In the Middle Ages, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who their valentines would be. They would wear these names on their sleeves for one week. To wear your heart on your sleeve now means that it is easy for other people to know how you are feeling.

In some countries, a young woman may receive a gift of clothing from a young man. If she keeps the gift, it means she will marry him.

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

A love seat is a wide chair. It was first made to seat one woman and her wide dress. Later, the love seat or courting seat had two sections, often in an S-shape. In this way, a couple could sit together -- but not too closely!

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Positive Words

When I approached the bus stop, positive words were the last thing I wanted to hear. The day had not started well - my old car would not start, I was late as it was and now I had to use the bus. Taxi, you say? I could barely make ends meet after losing my job so I was not going to use any extra money if I could avoid it. And to top it off I felt how the wind was messing up my well done hair.

Obviously the universe had decided otherwise. I could see her from afar. A chirpy looking old lady. You know the type: looking at the rain like it was something wonderful, humming a little tune and starting up a conversation. Gosh, I certainly did not wish to meet such a person. They always pushed their nose to someone else's business.

But what could I do? She had obviously noticed me already and was beaming at me from under her umbrella. I tried to look like I was deep in my thoughts, maybe she would ignore me.

- A very good morning! her positive words made me sigh.

- Morning… I managed to say.

She was elderly, after all, and my parents had taught me respect for older people.

- A bit of a rainy day! she smiled.

- Oh yes, awful weather! I said, trying to keep the conversation short.

- Well, I have always enjoyed rainy weather! the old lady said.

I looked at the road, hoping the bus would arrive already. I said nothing, just nodded.

- I mean just look at the lovely umbrellas!

- The… what?

- The umbrellas! I just love the different colours and designs. You wouldn't see them if it never rained! I especially love the ones that have positive words written on them.

Yes, you would… I thought but tried to smile at her politely. I noticed her own umbrella. "What a lovely day" it said.

- I see you have positive words on your own umbrella too, I commented when the silence was getting a bit awkward.

Where was that bus?

- Oh yes! She smiled and looked up at her umbrella, - I bought after the most embarrassing experience of my life.

She giggled at some fun memory. I did not know should I ask her or not, but now she was smiling broadly at me.

- Oh…? I had to admit I was curious.

- Well, you see I used to be a consultant. My speciality was positive thinking. I trained personnel in companies of different sizes. Positive words especially was what I emphasized in my training.

I must have looked a bit baffled.

- Many people don´t pay attention how much the words they use affect their emotions. If you use negative words, you are bound to feel more negative than if you use positive words. For example when you say "I hate red cars" when you could say "I like blue cars." Concentrate with positive words on what you like instead of what you don´t like. Mostly it is just a habit we´ve never noticed.

I nodded.

- But back to my most embarrassing moment. I was invited to address a big audience of a very large corporation. It was quite a thing - women consultants were not taken so seriously back then. I had worked on the presentation for weeks to get it right. I was ready. And to make myself look trustworthy I had bought a new suit - in a hurry. The skirt was a bit loose, but the jacket fit well. I took a deep breath and walked on the stage. And right when I was about to reach the centre of the stage, it happened. I suddenly felt the zipper open - and my skirt fell to my ankles.

- Oh my God! I said.

- That´s what I thought too, she laughed,- There I was, a consultant that was supposed to talk about positive words to an audience that was staring at me, with my skirt around my ankles.

- What did you do? I asked.

- Well. This was a do it or die -kind of situation. I had to take it under control.

She giggled.

- I don´t know where the idea came. I turned my head and looked at the audience that was totally silent. "Got your attention, didn´t I?" I asked. There were a few laughs in the audience. "And you are certain the Positive Words consultant just cannot come up with any positive words about this kind of a situation, aren´t you?" This time someone said "I´d like to see you try!"

The old lady was wiping tears of mirth from her cheeks now.

- Well, I looked at the audience and said: "The positive words about this situation are: Now I know what the most embarrassing moment of my life is like. I have now experienced it and from now on I don´t have to be afraid of anything."

- What did they say? I wanted to know.

- They applauded. And I have to say my lecture for positive words has never had such an attentive audience as that one. After I had pulled my skirt up, that is.

I had to laugh. I saw the whole thing in my mind´s eye.

- Good! the old lady said and took a little notebook from her pocket. We were standing right next to each other so I saw what it was she was doing. It was a tiny diary. And there was nothing but small smiley faces she had drawn there. While I watched, she used the tiny pen attached to the diary and drew one more.

- What´s that? I asked as she clearly made no attempt to hide what she was doing.

- This is my positive words diary, she said.

- But… There are no words, just those little smileys there.

- Exactly. This is a diary where I follow the effect of my positive words. When I see someone who is obviously feeling low - and trust me, dear, you were looking like that - I will try to say something that will make them smile. A little smile goes a long way in cheering up someone. When I succeed, I draw a little smile here. Look!

She handed me her diary. I noticed she had written on the cover "Positive words" and a smiley. The whole diary was full of tiny smiling faces.

- You have made this many people smile this year? I asked, leafing through the diary, - But here are… hundreds… thousands…?

- Oh yes. You see I have no family left and thought I´d rather spend my golden years spreading some smiles instead of sitting indoors. I have to admit I am a bit selfish - I don´t do this only because it makes others feel better. I do it because it makes me feel good.

The bus approached. I waved at it and gave way for the old lady to step in, but she shook her head.

- No, no, dear. I am not going into the bus. I´ll just continue my way.

I saw her walking under her bright blue umbrella. "What a lovely day!" the umbrella said. Then the bus turned and she disappeared from view. I looked at the scenery, deep in my thoughts.

I felt the eyes looking at me from across the isle. A little girl was sitting there with her mom. She was holding a much worn rag doll and it was obvious the mother could not afford to buy the finest toys. Her mom smiled at me, seeing her daughter looking at me.

- What a lovely doll you have! I am sure I have never seen such a pretty doll! I said to the child.

She looked at her rag doll, then at me - and the most wonderful smile I have ever seen spread on her face.

- Look, Mommy! The lady said my doll is beautiful! she lifted the doll up in the air.

The mother smiled back at me. I reached for my bag and took out my appointment book. I opened that day´s page and carefully drew two smiling faces.

A Bag of Stones

When my brother and I we were children we spent a few weeks each summer in the countryside. Our childless uncle owned a big house there and didn´t mind having children around, so of course our parents were happy to loan us for a few days at a time.

Our uncle was a geologist and loved to go on long walks to find stones to his collection
at the university. More often than not we followed him. He had a housekeeper who could cook like an angel and always gave uncle a big basket full of good food for those trips. We didn´t mind sharing the goodies so we eagerly waited for those excursions.

One day we left early and this time uncle had bought us backpacks.

- You can help me carry the samples, he explained.

Sure, why not. The whole day we then walked around the countryside and every now and again uncle put stones in our bags. We were a bit surprised he also took some stones out from our bags at times, but figured he had just found better samples than the ones we already had.

Still, when we reached the house in late afternoon, we were beat. The backpacks were so heavy we gave a big sigh of relief when we thumped them on the porch. Yet uncle´s backpack was half empty.

- Why did you give us so many stones? we asked.

- I didn´t. You did, he said cryptically.

He waited for a while before continuing:

- You did not know it, but I made you go through a little attitude test today.

- What do you mean with attitude test? we wanted to know.

- It is something someone once did to me - and I shall always remember it. You see I listened to every word you said. And when ever you were complaining about anyone or anything, I added a stone to your bags. And when ever you talked about something in an attitude of gratitude and positive thinking, I took off a stone. And now look at your backpacks.

We did. They were almost bursting at their seams.

- I hope you remember this little attitude test. You see your negative thoughts are like stones. You carry them on in your mind just like those stones in a backbag. The more negative thoughts, the heavier your mind is. A positive thought, however, cancels a negative one. So look at those bags and start paying attention to what you say and how you say it.

This little lesson was one of the most important I ever had and I remember uncle with great love for teaching us one of the most important lessons in life - the power of attitude.

Bad Hair Day?

I had gone to bathroom after waking up and almost screamed at the sight of the monster who seemed to live in the bathroom mirror. It had been there for years, looking mostly ghastly, but we got along. I wholeheartedly agreed that it was a blessing of nature my sight had gone worse during the years because I usually had a chance to slip into shower and only after that put on my glasses and look into the realm of the monster in the mirror. With my hair wet it usually looked ok and ready to be tamed.

Not so this morning. This morning the monster looked like it had suffered from severe electric shock. Einstein would have envied that hair. And of course this was the morning I had slept too long and had no time to shower.

I did all I could. I combed the hair. No effect. So I decided a pony tail was the answer. I used a lot of hair spray to glue my hair into a tight helmet. Nothing could escape a tight pony tail.

Or so I thought. Because when I ran to my car and drove to work I realized my whole pony tail had escaped. The rubber band I had used in haste had fallen somewhere. The hair was stiff from the hair spray and as it was a bit windy outside, the wind ruffled my hair into interesting spikes. I saw myself reflected in the glass doors of the office and the only thing that I could compare my head to as Sputnik. Or some other satellite - lots of spikes shooting out of my head like antennas.

And so I arrived at work looking worse than ever, hoping I would not meet anyone with a heart condition on my way to my desk.

- Yikes! What happened to you? Maria shouted (and of course this got everyone´s attention - I saw heads rising, amused smiles - thanks a lot, Maria!).

- I hate my hair, I said to her, - I really really hate my hair. The ultimate bad hair day in progress.

Maria tried not to smile, but wasn´t very successful. I heard someone laughing quietly nearby.

- You know - it´s all about the attitude they say. You can choose your attitude even about this, Maria said.

- Choose your attitude? What do you mean? With this? Choose your attitude indeed...

Good heavens that girl was a real Pollyanna...

- You at least have thick hair! You should be happy about it, Maria said.

I did not even answer that but tried to find anything I could use to tie my hair to a pony tail again. Maria didn´t seem to take the hint but just stood by my table.

- Ever heard of the story of this one woman…

I sighed. She was going to tell something to cheer me up and I wasn´t in a receptive mood for such wisdoms.

- No.

- Well, I don´t remember the exact words but one day there was this woman who was almost bald...

- Right, you mean I should cut my hair off now? Thanks a lot…

- No, silly! Maria laughed, - But one morning she looked in the mirror and noticed she only had three hairs. She smiled and said "Great! I think I shall braid my hair today". And she did. And she had a great day.

Maria handed me a ribbon from her own long hair (which of course as a result fell beautifully down her back).

- The next day she looked in the mirror and noticed she had only two hairs left. "Great!" she said, "I think I´ll part my hair down the middle today!" And she did and had a great day.

I did what I could to make my ponytail look decent, using an old comb I had in my drawer for emergencies.

- The next morning she looked in the mirror and noticed she had only one hair left. "Great!" she said, "I think I´ll wear my hair in a pony tail today" And she did and had a great day. And the morning after that she noticed she had no hair left at all. "Great!" she said, "I don´t have to fix my hair today!"

I opened my mouth to say something witty, but didn´t have time to do so before Maria handed me a leaflet.

- Actually I came here to ask if you would buy a ticket to this concert.

I looked at the leaflet. A fund-raising concert for the local children´s hospital cancer ward. A bald child looked me straight in the eye from it, smiling with dark circles under his eyes.

I felt the weight of my hair - now in a tight ponytail.

- I´d love to come, I said reaching for my purse.

I heard Maria´s words in my mind. "You can choose your attitude."

And suddenly my hair was just perfect.

Every Knee Shall Bow

A young couple moves into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they are eating breakfast, the young women sees her neighbor hanging the wash outside to dry. "That laundry is not very clean; she doesn't know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."

Her husband looks on, remaining silent. Every time her neighbor hangs her wash to dry , the young women makes the same comments.

A month later, the woman is surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and says to her husband "Look, she's finally learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who taught her this?" The husband replies, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows." 

 And so it is with life.... What we see when watching others depends on the clarity of the window through which we look.

You, then, why do you judge your brother or sister[? Or why do you treat them with contempt? For we will all stand before God’s judgment seat. It is written: "As surely as I live," says the Lord,
"Every knee will bow before me; Every tongue will acknowledge God." So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. Romans 14: 10-12

Which Cross Do You Want?

The young man was at the end of his rope. Seeing no way out, he dropped to his knees in prayer. "Lord, I can't go on," he said. "I have too heavy a cross to bear."

The Lord replied, "My son, if you can't bear it's weight, just place your cross inside this room. Then open another door and pick any cross you wish."

The man was filled with relief. "Thank you, Lord," he sighed, and did as he was told.

As he looked around the room he saw many different crosses; some so large the tops were not visible. Then he spotted a tiny cross leaning against a far wall. "I'd like that one, Lord," he whispered. And the Lord replied, "My son, that's the cross you brought in."

Death Row

A letter written to a man on death row by the Father of the man whom the man on death row had killed: You are probably surprised that I, of all people, am writing a letter to you, but I ask you to read it in its entirety and consider its request seriously. As the Father of the man whom you took part in murdering, I have something very important to say to you. I forgive you. With all my heart, I forgive you. I realize it may be hard for you to believe, but I really do. At your trial, when you confessed to your part in the events that cost my Son his life and asked for my forgiveness, I immediately granted you that forgiving love from my heart. I can only hope you believe me and will accept my forgiveness. But this is not all I have to say to you. I want to make you an offer: I want you to become my adopted child. You see, my Son who died was my only child, and I now want to share my life with you and leave my riches to you. This may not make sense to you or anyone else, but I believe you are worth the offer. I have arranged matters so that if you will receive my offer of forgiveness, not only will you be pardoned for your crime, but you also will be set free from your imprisonment, and your sentence of death will be dismissed. At that point, you will become my adopted child and heir to all my riches. I realize this is a risky offer for me to make to you -- you might be tempted to reject my offer completely -- but I make it to you without reservation. Also, I realize it may seem foolish to make such an offer to one who cost my Son his life, but I now have a great love and an unchangeable forgiveness in my heart for you. Finally, you may be concerned that once you accept my offer you may do something to cause you to be denied your rights as an heir to my wealth. Nothing could be further from the truth. If I can forgive you for your part in my Son's death, I can forgive you for anything. I know you never will be perfect, but you do not have to be perfect to receive my offer. Besides, I believe that once you have accepted my offer and begin to experience the riches that will come to you from me, that your primary (though not always) response will be gratitude and loyalty. Some would call me foolish for my offer to you, but I wish for you to call me your Father.

Love, God

The Woodcutter

Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter asked for a job with a timber merchant, and he got it. The pay was really good and so were the work conditions. For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best. His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to work. The first day, the woodcutter brought in 18 trees.

 "Congratulations," the boss said. "Go on that way!" Very motivated from the boss’ words, the woodcutter tried harder the next day, but he only brought in 15 trees.

The third day he tried even harder, but he only brought in 10 trees.

Day after day he was bringing in less and less trees. "I must be losing my strength", the woodcutter thought.

He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.

"When was the last time you sharpened your axe?" the boss asked.

"Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees..."

Author - Stephen Covey