Thursday, November 28, 2013
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
This incident happened in Charlotte, North Carolina, USA, in September 2008. 14-year-old Chelsea Barton was born five weeks prematurely which resulted in developmental disabilities and serious health problems all her life.
Chelsea got sick very easily and going back and forth to the hospital very often. In 2008, she caught pneumonia and was eventually put on life support at Presbyterian Hospital in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Doctors told Chelsea's mother that there was no hope for young Chelsea's recovery.
The family gathered one last time in Chelsea's hospital room to say their goodbyes and the order was giving to disconnect her from the life support system and "just let nature take its course."
It appeared that Chelsea had another visitor just after the life support was disconnected!
As her mother waited for the girl to take her last breath, an image of bright light appeared on the hospital's security monitor screen. Within an hour, the dying girl began a recovery that doctors were at a loss to explain.
The mother and other workers noticed an image of an angel in light on the security surveillance monitor near the hospital room door and the mother managed to capture the image with her cell phone camera.
The mother told that at first she thought that it was the angel-of-death coming to take her daughter but shortly afterwards Chelsea started showing signs of improvement.
It would be another two months before Chelsea finally left the hospital to return home but her mother is so convinced that Chelsea was saved by divine intervention.
God is real and does care for us!
Sources: MSNBC News & Truth or Fiction
Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born. So one day he asked God: "How am I going to live on earth being so small and helpless?"
God replied, "Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you."
"But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile, that's enough for me to be happy."
"Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. And you will feel your angel's love and be happy."
"And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don't know the language that men talk?"
"Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."
"And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"
"Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."
"I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"
"Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life."
"But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."
"Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."
At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:
"Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."
"Your angel's name is of no importance, you will call your angel: Mommy."
Monday, November 25, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
"Hold on a minute," Socrates replied. "Before telling me anything I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test."
"That's right," Socrates continued. "Before you talk to me about my friend, it might be a good idea to take a moment and filter what you're going to say. That's why I call it the triple filter test. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man said, "Actually I just heard about it and ..."
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my friend something good?"
"No, on the contrary…"
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him, but you're not certain it's true. You may still pass the test though, because there's one filter left: the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my friend going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really …"
"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true nor good nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"
When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.
She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why?
I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company.
She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.
When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.
She requested that every day for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.
My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me… she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy.
I drove to office… jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind… I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart.
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.
At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.
My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce –At least, in the eyes of our son— I'm a loving husband…
Thursday, November 21, 2013
The story is about a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air – until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore. "My God, this terrible", the wave says. "Look what's going to happen to me!"
Then along comes another wave. It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him: "Why do you look so sad?"
The second wave says: "No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean."
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
"Not at all," replied the monk.
"I am travelling from the village in the mountains to the village in the valley and I was wondering if you knew what it is like in the village in the valley?"
"Tell me," said the monk, "What was your experience of the village in the mountains?"
"Dreadful," replied the traveller, "to be honest I am glad to be away from there. I found the people most unwelcoming. When I first arrived I was greeted coldly. I was never made to feel part of the village no matter how hard I tried. The villagers keep very much to themselves, they don't take kindly to strangers. So tell me, what can I expect in the village in the valley?"
"I am sorry to tell you," said the monk, "but I think your experience will be much the same there".
The traveller hung his head despondently and walked on.
A while later another traveller was journeying down the same road and he also came upon the monk.
"I'm going to the village in the valley," said the second traveller, "Do you know what it is like?"
"I do," replied the monk "But first tell me - where have you come from?"
"I've come from the village in the mountains."
"And how was that?"
"It was a wonderful experience. I would have stayed if I could but I am committed to travelling on. I felt as though I was a member of the family in the village. The elders gave me much advice, the children laughed and joked with me and people were generally kind and generous. I am sad to have left there. It will always hold special memories for me. And what of the village in the valley?" he asked again.
"I think you will find it much the same" replied the monk, "Good day to you".
"Good day and thank you," the traveller replied, smiled, and journeyed on.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
There was once a disciple of a great teacher. Day after day the disciple would sit at the feet of his teacher listening to his instruction. Many people would come to visit and inevitably the teacher would engage them by telling a story.
One day the disciple asked; "Guruji, why do you engage people by means of stories? Why don't you just give them your teaching straight out?"
The guru answered: "Bring me some water."
Now the disciple knew his teacher to be a very formal and disciplined man. He had never asked for water at this time of the day. Nevertheless, he went immediately to fetch it. Taking a clean brass water pot from the ashram kitchen, the disciple went to the well, filled the pot with water and returned. He offered it to his teacher.
"Why have you brought me a pot when I asked only for water?"
The moral of this story…
We share with others the lessons we have learned. We provide you with a banquet of various tastes and styles. It is up to you to choose that dish which you find most palatable.