Her hair was up in a pony tail.
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid.
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school
Eager to tell them all,
About a dad she never sees,
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called
A student from the class,
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
And every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
For a man who wasn't there.
'Where's her daddy at?'
She heard a boy call out.
'She probably doesn't have one,'
Another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
'Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day.'
The words did not offend her,
As she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredible unique.
'My Daddy couldn't be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know
All about my Daddy,
And how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories.
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes,
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I'm not standing here alone.
'Cause my Daddy's always with me,
Even though we are apart.
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be in my heart.
With that, her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears;
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life,
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down,
Staring straight into the crowd,
She finished with a voice so soft,
But it's message clear and loud.
I love my Daddy very much,
He's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.
You see he's an American soldier
And he died just this past year,
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Americans to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes,
It's like he never went away.'
And then she closed her eyes,
And saw him there that day.
And to her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise,
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.
'I know you're with me Daddy.'
To the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
Of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
Was a fragrant long-stemmed rose.
And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
By the love of her shining star.
And given the gift of believing,
That heaven is never too far.
I received this poem in an email and although no author's name was given me, I just had to share it.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
A Woman and a Fork
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order", she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.
Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the Pastor's reply.
"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The Pastor stool looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.
"Well to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along it's message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep dish apple pie. Something wonderful and with substance!"
So, I just want people to see me there in the casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder: "What's with the fork?" Then I want you tell them: "Keep your fork, the best is yet to come."
The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the youong woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She 'KNEW' that something better was coming!
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.
During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right...So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.
AND..."Keep your fork."
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.
Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the Pastor's reply.
"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The Pastor stool looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.
"Well to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along it's message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep dish apple pie. Something wonderful and with substance!"
So, I just want people to see me there in the casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder: "What's with the fork?" Then I want you tell them: "Keep your fork, the best is yet to come."
The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the youong woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She 'KNEW' that something better was coming!
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.
During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right...So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.
AND..."Keep your fork."
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Poem I Copied When At The Gosnell Hospice House
There is sacredness in tears
They are not the mark of weakness
But of power.
They speak more eloquently
Than ten thousand tongues.
They are the messengers of grief,
Of deep contrition
And unspeakable love.
- Washington Irving
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Sneeze
They walked in tandem, each of the ninety-two students filing into the already crowded auditorium. With their rich maroon gowns flowing ..... and the traditional caps, they looked almost .. as grown up as they felt.
Dads swallowed hard behind broad smiles, and Moms freely brushed away tears. This class would NOT pray during the commencements----not by choice, but because of a recent court ruling prohibiting it.
The principal and several students were careful to stay within the guidelines allowed by the ruling. They gave inspirational and challenging speeches, but no one mentioned divine guidance and no one asked for blessings on the graduates or their families.
The speeches were nice, but they were routine.....until the final speech received a standing ovation. A solitary student walked proudly to the microphone. He stood still and silent for just a moment, and then, it happened.
All 92 students, every single one of them, suddenly SNEEZED!!!!
The student on stage.. simply looked at the audience and said, 'GOD BLESS YOU,
each and every one of you!' And he walked off stage...
The audience exploded into applause. This graduating class had found a unique way to invoke God's blessing on their future with or without the court's approval.
Dads swallowed hard behind broad smiles, and Moms freely brushed away tears. This class would NOT pray during the commencements----not by choice, but because of a recent court ruling prohibiting it.
The principal and several students were careful to stay within the guidelines allowed by the ruling. They gave inspirational and challenging speeches, but no one mentioned divine guidance and no one asked for blessings on the graduates or their families.
The speeches were nice, but they were routine.....until the final speech received a standing ovation. A solitary student walked proudly to the microphone. He stood still and silent for just a moment, and then, it happened.
All 92 students, every single one of them, suddenly SNEEZED!!!!
The student on stage.. simply looked at the audience and said, 'GOD BLESS YOU,
each and every one of you!' And he walked off stage...
The audience exploded into applause. This graduating class had found a unique way to invoke God's blessing on their future with or without the court's approval.
A Little Encouragement Goes A Long Way
One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down under their names.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in their paper.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate piece of paper and listed on each student's paper what the classmates had said about that individual.
On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long the entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!" and "I didn't know others liked me so much." were some of the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished it's purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, one of those students was killed in Viet Nam and the teacher attended the funeral. She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin.
As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as a pallbearer came up to her. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. She nodded "yes". Then he said "Mark talked about you a lot."
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon and the teacher also went. Mark's mother and father were there and waited to speak to the teacher. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher realized right away that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things that each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said, "as you can see, Mark treasured it."
All of Marks' former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said, "it's in my diary."
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: "I think we all saved our lists." That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day and we don't know when that one day will be.
So please tell the people you love and care for that they are special and important. Tell them before it is too late. Don't pass up wonderful opportunities to say or do something nice, or beautiful, to or for the people around you.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down under their names.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in their paper.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate piece of paper and listed on each student's paper what the classmates had said about that individual.
On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long the entire class was smiling. "Really?" she heard whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!" and "I didn't know others liked me so much." were some of the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished it's purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, one of those students was killed in Viet Nam and the teacher attended the funeral. She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The church was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin. The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin.
As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as a pallbearer came up to her. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. She nodded "yes". Then he said "Mark talked about you a lot."
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon and the teacher also went. Mark's mother and father were there and waited to speak to the teacher. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher realized right away that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things that each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said, "as you can see, Mark treasured it."
All of Marks' former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said, "it's in my diary."
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: "I think we all saved our lists." That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day and we don't know when that one day will be.
So please tell the people you love and care for that they are special and important. Tell them before it is too late. Don't pass up wonderful opportunities to say or do something nice, or beautiful, to or for the people around you.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
You Are Priceless!
A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, ' Who would like this $20 bill? ' Hands started going up.
He said, ' I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this. He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, ' Who still wants it? ' Still the hands were up in the air.
Well, he replied, ' What if I do this? ' And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. ' Now, who still wants it? ' Still the hands went into the air.
My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE and WHOM WE ARE.
You are special - Don't EVER forget it!
Count your blessings, not your problems.
And remember: amateurs built the ark ... professionals built the Titanic.
If God brings you to it - He will bring you through it.
He said, ' I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this. He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, ' Who still wants it? ' Still the hands were up in the air.
Well, he replied, ' What if I do this? ' And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. ' Now, who still wants it? ' Still the hands went into the air.
My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE and WHOM WE ARE.
You are special - Don't EVER forget it!
Count your blessings, not your problems.
And remember: amateurs built the ark ... professionals built the Titanic.
If God brings you to it - He will bring you through it.
Your Bank Account
A 92 year old, petite, well-poised and proud
man, who is fully dressed each morning by
eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably
combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is
legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.
His wife of 70 years recently passed away,
making the move necessary. After many hours of
waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing
home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.
As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I
provided a visual description of his tiny
room, including the eyelet sheets that had
been hung on his window.
'I love it!' he stated with the enthusiasm of
an eight year old having just been presented
with a new puppy.
'Mr. Jones, you haven't seen the room; just wait.'
'That doesn't have anything to do with it,' he replied...
'Happiness is something you decide on ahead
of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't
depend on how the furniture it arranged...
it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided
to love it. It's a decision I make every
morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I can
spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty
I have with the parts of my body that no
longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful
for the ones that do.
Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes
open, I'll focus on the new day and all the
happy memories I've stored away. Just for this
time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw
from what you've put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot
of happiness in the bank account of memories.'
Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank.
I am still depositing.
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
man, who is fully dressed each morning by
eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably
combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is
legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.
His wife of 70 years recently passed away,
making the move necessary. After many hours of
waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing
home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.
As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I
provided a visual description of his tiny
room, including the eyelet sheets that had
been hung on his window.
'I love it!' he stated with the enthusiasm of
an eight year old having just been presented
with a new puppy.
'Mr. Jones, you haven't seen the room; just wait.'
'That doesn't have anything to do with it,' he replied...
'Happiness is something you decide on ahead
of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't
depend on how the furniture it arranged...
it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided
to love it. It's a decision I make every
morning when I wake up. I have a choice: I can
spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty
I have with the parts of my body that no
longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful
for the ones that do.
Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes
open, I'll focus on the new day and all the
happy memories I've stored away. Just for this
time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw
from what you've put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot
of happiness in the bank account of memories.'
Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank.
I am still depositing.
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
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