Friday, December 31, 2010

A Holiday Wish
Time of New Beginnings
http://ping.fm/zQSap
Remember the laughter,
the joy,
the hard work,
and the tears.
And as you reflect on the past year,
also think of the new one to come.
Because most importantly,
this is a time of new beginnings
and the celebration of life.”
The Way to a Happy New Year
http://ping.fm/78uX6
To leave the old with a burst of song;

To recall the right and forgive the wrong;

To forget the things that bind you fast;

To the vain regrets of the year that's past;

To have the strength to let go your hold

Of the not worth while of the days grown old;

To dare go forth with a purpose true,

To the unknown task of the year that's new;

To help your brother along the road,

To assist with his work and lift his load;

To add your gift to the world's good cheer,

Is to have and to give a Happy New Year.

~ Author Unknown

Thursday, December 30, 2010

A Recipe For A Happy New Year
http://ping.fm/5ho2c

Take twelve whole months.

Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness, hate, and jealousy.

Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.

Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty or thirty-one different parts, but don't make the whole batch at once.

Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.

Mix well into each day one part of faith, one part of patience, one part of courage, and one part of work.

Add to each day one part of hope, faithfulness, generosity, and meditation, and one good deed.

Season the whole with a dash of good spirits, a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play, and a cupful of good humor.

Pour all of this into a vessel of love. Cook thoroughly over radiant joy, garnish with a smile, and serve with quietness, unselfishness, and cheerfulness.

You're bound to have a Happy New Year.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Advice for All on New Year’s Day ~ Ann Landers
http://ping.fm/3CQeo
Let this coming year be better than all the others. Vow to do some of the things you’ve always wanted to do but couldn’t find the time.

*Call up a forgotten friend. Drop an old grudge, and replace it with some pleasant memories.
*Share a funny story with someone whose spirits are dragging. A good laugh can be very good medicine.
*Vow not to make a promise you don’t think you can keep.
*Pay a debt.
*Give a soft answer.
*Free yourself of envy and malice.
*Encourage some youth to do his or her best. Share your experience, and offer support. Young people need role models.
*Make a genuine effort to stay in closer touch with family and good friends.
*Resolve to stop magnifying small problems and shooting from the lip. Words that you have to eat can be hard to digest.
*Find the time to be kind and thoughtful. All of us have the same allotment: 24 hours a day. Give a compliment. It might give someone a badly needed lift.
*Think things through. Forgive an injustice. Listen more. Be kind.
*Apologize when you realize you are wrong. An apology never diminishes a person. It elevates him.
*Don’t blow your own horn. If you’ve done something praiseworthy, someone win notice eventually.
*Try to understand a point of view that is different from your own. Few things are 100 percent one way or another.
*Examine the demands you make on others.
*Lighten up. When you feel like blowing your top, ask yourself, "Will it matter a week from today?"
*Laugh the loudest when the joke is on you.
*The sure way to have a friend is to be one. We are all connected by our humanity, and we need each other.
*Avoid malcontents and pessimists. They drag you down and contribute nothing.
*Don’t discourage a beginner from trying something risky. Nothing ventured means nothing gained. Be optimistic. The can-do spirit is the fuel that makes things go.
*Go to war against animosity and complacency.
*Express your gratitude. Give credit when it’s due—and even when it isn’t. It will make you look good.
*Read something uplifting. Deep-six the trash. You wouldn’t eat garbage—why put it in your head?
*Don’t abandon your old-fashioned principles. They never go out of style.
*When courage is needed, ask yourself, "If not me, who? If not now, when?"
*Take better care of yourself. Remember, you’re all you’ve got. Pass up that second helping. You really don’t need it. Vow to eat more sensibly. You’ll feel better and look better, too.
*Don’t put up with secondhand smoke. Nobody has the right to pollute your air or give you cancer. If someone says, "This is a free country," remind him or her that the country may be free, but no person is free if he has a habit he can’t control.
*Return those books you borrowed. Reschedule that missed dental appointment. Clean out your closet. Take those photos out of the drawer and put them in an album. If you see litter on the sidewalk, pick it up instead of walking over it.
*Give yourself a reality check. Phoniness is transparent, and it is tiresome. Take pleasure in the beauty and the wonders of nature. A flower is God’s miracle.
*Walk tall, and smile more. You’ll look 10 years younger.
*Don’t be afraid to say, "I love you." Say it again. They are the sweetest words in the world.
*If you have love in your life, consider yourself blessed, and vow to make this the best year ever.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Salt Lake is now in 2nd place. Please take a few moments and vote. Don't wait vote now at http://ping.fm/k3qcY
I need your support asap. Help Salt Lake City receive 1,000,000 for the food bank. Vote Salt Lake City at http://ping.fm/APfp6
Your Best Year
http://ping.fm/qQFJB
Like in everything we do, in life there is not a second chance; every moment, either we lose or win! Everything is mental; we bring to our life what we think about most of the time.

The road has two ways, one toward light and other toward darkness. Life is a choice! Everything and Everybody starts from zero; it is your choice in what place you finish. If we accept mental poverty, all kinds of poverty is what we get.

Change your attitude to win now! Be happy and relaxed, regardless of any circumstance. Always focus only on the solutions; don't let anybody rob you of your happiness. Don't allow challenges or circumstances to defeat you.

Do the right thing. Demand from yourself whatever it takes to win - clarity, focus, effort, persistence, sacrifice, discipline, passion, and love - not just to survive but also to win!

Life is a give and take; we stop receiving as soon as we stop giving the best of us!! That's the balance of life!!! If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door. Every tomorrow you will do even better.

Yes you can!

Yes you can do this. Make this coming year your year; just you have to believe in you.

--- Copyright © 2010 Eduardo Dominguez

Monday, December 27, 2010

Goal Setting

I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas. I am personally very excited to end 2010 and begin 2011. For many years I have taken time at the end of each year to reflect on the successes, challenges, lessons and blessings of the year. This time has helped me learn from the experiences and assist in planning for my next year. I believe we all have things we would do better, differently or not at all (He He He) if we could look back and change some of our decisions. However, since we can only be grateful for what has happened and move forward by using those experiences to make better decisions, let’s look at that.

Take time this year to sit down with your family and design 2011. In the next few days I am going to be rolling out little pieces I use for this workshop and will give them to you for your use. Without goals, the universe will give you what you focus the most energy on. If you are focusing on bills, food and scarcity; you will get more bills, lack of food and more scarcity. If you make a plan and focus daily on achieving that plan, you will get what you have put in your plan. 2011 can be filled with blessings and my intention is to create them in my family and yours.

Look forward to the next few days when we can create this plan for 2011.

Live This Day With Excellence And Make It An Incredible Day!
J.J. Ulrich
Website: www.jjulrich.com | Mobile: 801-381-5111 | Skype: jj_ulrich | Email: me@jjulrich.com
Assistant | Jessica Jones | Phone: 801-652-6533 | Skype: jessica.jones112 | Email: jessicajones@connectingusall.org
My Creed: To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of the honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you lived. This is to have succeeded!
Begin 2011 With Renewed Goals, Commitment and Planning: Read More at www.jjulrich.com
Time for New Beginnings. . . . . . . . . . . Taylor Addison, 1989
http://ping.fm/nvoKy
"This is a time for reflection as well as celebration.

As you look back on the past year and all that has taken place in your life,

Remember each experience for the good that has come of it
and for the knowledge you have gained.

Remember the efforts you have made and the goals you have reached.

Remember the love you have shared and the happiness you have brought.

Remember the laughter, the joy, the hard work, and the tears.

And as you reflect on the past year, also be thinking of the new one to come.

Because most importantly, this is a time of new beginnings
and the celebration of life."

Friday, December 24, 2010

Hello Everyone! Please be safe this holiday. I have uploaded my Christmas Wish to you and your families on my website at www.jjulrich.com. My Christmas wish and favorite giving quotes are live on the home page.
Christmas Is For Love
http://ping.fm/VeNkP
Christmas is for love. It is for joy, for giving and sharing, for laughter, for reuniting with family and friends, for tinsel and brightly covered packages. But, mostly Christmas is for love. I had not believed this until a small elfin like pupil with wide innocent eyes and soft rosy cheeks gave me a wondrous gift one Christmas.

Matthew was a 10 year old orphan who lived with his aunt, a bitter, middle aged woman greatly annoyed with the burden of caring for her dead sister's son. She never failed to remind young Matthew, if it hadn't been for her generosity, he would be a vagrant, homeless waif. Still, with all the scolding and chilliness at home, he was a sweet and gentle child.Christmas Is For Love

I had not noticed Matthew particularly until he began staying after class each day [at the risk of arousing his aunt's anger so I learned later] to help me straighten up the room. We did this quietly and comfortably, not speaking much, but enjoying the solitude of that hour of the day. When we did talk, Matthew spoke mostly of his mother. Though he was quite young when she died, he remembered a kind, gentle, loving woman who always spent time with him.

As Christmas drew near however, Matthew failed to stay after school each day. I looked forward to his coming, and when the days passed and he continued to scamper hurriedly from the room after class, I stopped him one afternoon and asked him why he no longer helped me in the room. I told him how I had missed him, and his large brown eyes lit up eagerly as he replied, 'Did you really miss me?'

I explained how he had been my best helper, 'I was making you a surprise,' he whispered confidentially. 'It's for Christmas.' With that, he became embarrassed and dashed from the room. He didn't stay after school any more after that.Christmas Is For Love

Finally came the last school day before Christmas. Matthew crept slowly into the room late that afternoon with his hands concealing something behind his back. 'I have your present,' he said timidly when I looked up. 'I hope you like it.' He held out his hands, and there lying in his small palms was a tiny wooden box.

'It's beautiful, Matthew. Is there something in it?' I asked opening the top to look inside. 'Oh you can't see what's in it,' he replied, 'and you can't touch it, or taste it or feel it, but mother always said it makes you feel good all the time, warm on cold nights and safe when you're all alone.'

I gazed into the empty box. 'What is it, Matthew' I asked gently, 'that will make me feel so good?'

'It's love,' he whispered softly, 'and mother always said it's best when you give it away.' He turned and quietly left the room.

So now I keep a small box crudely made of scraps of wood on the piano in my living room and only smile when inquiring friends raise quizzical eyebrows when I explain to them there is love in it.

Yes, Christmas is for gaiety, mirth, song, and for good and wondrous gifts. But mostly, Christmas is for love.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

A Cop's Christmas
An Original Christmas Story by Chip Ciammaichella
http://ping.fm/CnMnF
It was just after 11 p.m. when the call came over the radio. The reflection of the city
lights made the falling snow look like a million points of light, drifting slowly toward the
frozen ground. The cop debated with himself whether he should respond to the call; a
burglar alarm at a nearby department store. His shift change was less than an hour away,
if someone indeed had broken into the store; the paperwork involved would take hours.
Sal wanted to get off at a reasonable hour for a change, after all it was Christmas Eve and
he still had to get presents for his kids. "The alarm was probably set off by an employee
locking up." thought Sal as he maneuvered the well-used vehicle toward the department
store.
"I'll never make it to the store, I guess I can just give the kids cash this year. They never
like my presents anyway and Maria wouldn't appreciate me barging into her house at two
in the morning anyway."
When Sal arrived at the department store, the building was dark and the area was quiet.
As Sal circled the patrol car around the building, the falling snow swirled like a tornado
through the beam of his spotlight. At the rear of the building, the spotlight's reflection
was engulfed by the darkness of an open garage door. Sal radioed for backup, and exited
the warm car to investigate.
As Sal approached the dark void of the open door, he noticed a single set of footprints in
the fresh snow. The prints led into the building, but not out again. Sal clutched his large
mag-light firmly in his left hand, while with his right he felt the inadequate security of his
service revolver, holstered at his side. Sal began to sweat as his mind flashed back to
another dark building, on another Christmas Eve.
Ten years earlier, Sal had responded to a break-in of a liquor store. As he entered the
darkened store a bright flash blinded him. Sal heard a loud crack of a pistol as his body
was hurled to the ground by the force of the bullet's impact into his chest. Although his
kevlar vest had saved his life that night, the force of the bullet still cracked three ribs and
knocked the wind out of the shocked officer.
Sal's survival instincts, honed by three combat tours in Vietnam, prevented him from
losing consciousness and gave him the strength to bring his service revolver to bear. His
last remembrance was of firing his revolver towards the flash, and unknown to him,
killing his attacker.
The flashlight was discarded as Sal entered the department store. He crouched just inside
the doorway and allowed his eyes to become accustomed to the ebony darkness of the
store.
During Sal's seventeen years on the police force, this particular store had been
burglarized on many occasions. As his eyes made out a dim outline of the store, Sal
remembered where the main lighting circuit breaker was located.
As the officer carefully inched his way toward the breaker box, he felt a twinge of pain in
his ribs where he had been shot ten years ago. He winced as he remembered being
released from the hospital, and how the pain from his wounds paled in comparison to the
heartache he felt when he found his wife and kids had left him.
Sal wasn't surprised that Maria had taken the kids and gone. Their life together had
started badly and just gotten worse. Sal could never bring himself to share with her the
horrors that tortured his mind, and she felt rejected. He felt that his experiences as a cop,
as well as a soldier, were not understandable to anyone, even himself. Maria watched
over the years, as Sal became distrustful and cynical. She watched, as he became more
and more dependent on work and a bottle of Jim Beam for solace. By the time she had
taken the kids and left, Sal and Maria were little more than strangers sharing the same
house.
Sal reached the light box and threw the switch. When the bright lights illuminated the
building, he heard the sound of footsteps running out the door he had entered. As he
rushed back to the open door, another patrol car was just pulling up. While the other
officers jumped out of their cruiser, Sal hollered, "Did you guys see anyone running away
when you pulled up?"
One of the newcomers on the scene, a portly officer who had a reputation for enjoying
more than his share of donuts, replied with a sneer, "No Sal, we didn't see nobody. Whats
a matter, did the little punk get away from ya?"
Sal didn't reply as the other officers laughed and snickered. Angrily he turned his
attention to the footprints leading into and out of the building. As Sal studied the details
of the prints that were not his own, slowly his anger was replaced by a confident grin.
"Maybe the punk got away, and maybe he didn't. You guys stay here until the manager
arrives, I'm going for a little walk." As an afterthought, he looked at his fat cohort. "Why
don't you make yourself useful and follow me in my car."
As Sal followed the footprints embedded in the freshly fallen snow, he thought to
himself, "Shoot, this is easier than tracking a wounded buck. Of course if I were trackin' a
buck, I'd be better armed, and bucks don't shoot back."
The trail ended only about a block and a half away, at the doorway of a dilapidated
bungalow. As Sal climbed the porch stairs, he noticed the same set of footprints had
obviously exited the residence earlier in the evening as the snow now nearly covered the
older prints. "Gotcha." Sal whispered into the cold night air.
Sal rapped sharply on the door then stepped back off to the side, revolver ready. Inside
the house Sal could hear the whining voice of a boy followed by the sharp voice of an
angry woman. He heard the rattle of the knob, as he watched the door open spilling light
over the porch. A plain, tired looking woman stood in the doorway dressed in a tattered
bathrobe, rollers in her mousy blonde hair. Behind her, with a look of horror and shame
etched across his face, was a boy of about twelve years old. Before Sal could speak, the
woman greeted him with a strained voice, "Merry Christmas officer, please come in."
As he entered the house, Sal noticed a garbage bag sitting against a wall. An expensive
mink coat was visible at the top of the bag. As Sal's eyes became adjusted to the dim
lights of the house, he observed more details about the house and its occupants.
The house was devoid of furniture, except for a well worn three legged couch. The bare
wooden floors were covered with strewn clothing and garbage. Roaches climbed freely
on the stained walls, and the stench of old trash permeated the chilly air. Sal glanced into
the kitchen and noticed that the dented door of the rusted oven was wide open and the
burners were all turned on, the only source of heat for the home.
As Sal turned to face the boy and the woman, movement from the doorway caught his
eye. Peeking around the door were the doe-like eyes of three little girls. Sal winked at
them as he addressed the woman. "Ma'am, I have reason to believe that your boy there
forcibly entered the Sears store over on 110th Street. I'll bet my left eye that that stuff in
that garbage bag there was stolen from that store."
The woman did not speak and tears began to roll from her bloodshot eyes. She turned to
the boy and gave him an icy stare. The boy choked back sobs as he spoke. "I took dat
stuff from dat store officer. My mama an' sisters needed presents for Christmas. My
mama ain't got no money, and everyone knows dat Santa ain't real. I just figured that
everyone else done already got their presents, and dat big store wouldn't miss a few
things."
Sal steeled himself from the boy's innocent tear filled eyes. "Don't let the kid's words get
you all mushy." Sal thought to himself, "Everyone's got a sob story, but it doesn't mean
they're above the law." Sal gave the boy his most intimidating stare as he removed his
handcuffs from his belt.
Sal continued his glare as he addressed the boy's mother. "I'm gonna have to take the boy
to the station ma'am. If you can get a sitter for your girls, I'll allow you to go with him."
A look of horror came into the woman's eyes when Sal added, "I could always call Social
Services if you can't get a sitter." The look in her eyes told Sal that the woman was more
afraid of Social Services than of the police.
Before the woman could reply, Sal began handcuffing the boy, but before he was finished
the three little girls rushed into the room with tears streaming down their cheeks. "Please
don't take Martin to jail Mr. Policeman!" cried the oldest girl. "Santa won't take him no
presents in jail." Sal could not look into the eyes of the girls and was relieved when their
mother scolded them and herded them off into the bedroom.
As the woman tended to her children, Sal inspected the items in the garbage bag. It
contained some dolls, girl's clothing, an expensive necklace, and the mink coat. Sal noted
that not one of the items was something a teenaged boy would want. "The boy probably
got scared off before he could get his own loot." Sal muttered under his breath.
When the woman reentered the room, she seemed to have regained her composure. As
Sal took the boy by the arm to lead him out the door, the woman spoke. "Martin ain't a
bad boy officer. He only gets onto trouble because he ain't got no man around to tan his
fanny."
Sal asked, "So where is the boy's father ma'am?" As soon as the words were spoken, he
wished he had kept his big mouth shut. "Now I'm gonna get the sob story." he thought as
he turned to the woman and listened.
"Martin's daddy was a no good bum. He weren't ever good at nothin' but drinkin' and
usin' drugs, and beatin' up on me. He seemed to try to be a good husbin after Martin was
born, but his friends and da drugs made sure dat was short lived." The woman paused,
then continued somewhat bitterly, "When Martin was only two years old, on Christmas
Eve, his daddy was killed by the police while robbin' a likker store. Since then I been
through dozens of men an' jobs tryin' to get by. I never took no welfare..."
The woman went on with her story but Sal was no longer listening. In his mind he
remembered his own experience in a liquor store, ten years ago tonight. He remembered
that he never even saw the person he shot and had refused to look at his mug shots
afterward. The pain in his ribs returned, and Sal felt like he would vomit at any second.
"It couldn't be the same guy." thought Sal, "Even if it was, he shot me first and I just shot
at whatever shot at me." Sal had never even thought of the burglar that had injured him as
a real person. Until now he had never contemplated the fact that the person might have
had a life, let alone a family. The repressed feelings inside Sal seemed to erupt like a
volcano. He turned away from the eyes of the woman and the boy, hoping that they could
not read his thoughts.
"I fetched Martin's toothbrush. Can he take it with him?" asked the woman, her voice not
much more than a whisper.
In that second, something inside of Sal snapped. All the pain, sorrow and agony of his
past seemed to be lifted from his heart, and he knew what he had to do.
"No." Sal replied curtly to the woman's question.
Sal turned to the boy and began removing his handcuffs. "I'm going to give you a break
boy." He exclaimed in his best command voice. "But if I ever catch you so much as
spitting on the street, I'll lock you up and throw away the key."
Neither the boy nor his mother could say a word. They just stared at Sal with amazement
and gratitude.
Sal continued, "Now you take this key and put all of the stuff you stole into the trunk of
my car outside, and tell my fat partner that I'll answer all of his questions later." When the
boy hesitated, Sal barked, "Go on and do it before I change my mind!" As the boy ran out
the door, garbage bag in tow, Sal reached into his pocket and turned to the woman. The
policeman stared at the floor as he placed a wad of money into the woman's hand.
"Ma'am, I want you to use this money to get you and your kids something nice for
Christmas. I don't tolerate stealing, but it is Christmas and kids deserve to have a nice
Christmas."
The boy returned giving Sal back his keys. The woman still had not spoken and Sal could
not look at her. "Don't think that you're getting away with anything." Sal said firmly to
the boy. "I'm going to be coming around here quite a bit to make sure you tow the line.
I'm sure I can find a hundred chores around here for you to do to pay for your crime."
As Sal turned his attention from the boy, his eyes met those of the woman. Her eyes were
wet with tears and expressed a mixture of gratitude, sorrow, and Sal even thought...pity.
He quickly avoided the woman's eyes and started for the door. "Merry Christmas!" he
bellowed as he walked through the door and out into the snowy night air.
As he walked to his car, Sal thought he heard the woman say "God bless you." But the
words were barely loud enough to overcome the thunderous beating of his heart.
Sal knew that he bore no responsibility for the state of existence of Martin and his family,
but at the same time, he wanted to help.
"Maybe I want to help these people to make up for all the people I couldn't help." Sal said
to himself as he got into his patrol car. "Or maybe it was just the right thing to do."
As Sal closed the door, he thought he heard the tinkle of sleigh bells overhead. As he
looked up, he caught a shadow moving swiftly through the snowy night. He shook his
head and rubbed his eyes. "Got to start sleeping better," he thought as the patrol car eased
into the night. He gave his fat partner a look that made it no secret that questions were not
welcome, as they made their way through the snowy Cleveland streets back to the
stationhouse.
When the patrol car pulled into the underground garage of the police station, Sal took the
keys and went to the trunk to retrieve the stolen merchandise, as the fat man made a
beeline for the cafeteria. As he put the key into the trunk, he glanced at his watch and
grimaced.
"Damn, all the stores are closed by now...guess the kids are gonna have to get cash this
Christmas." His mood darkened, because he knew that his son had wanted Ninja Turtles,
and his daughter wanted a boom box...presents he had promised Maria he would buy.
"Just call me Father of the Year, I guess," he mumbled as he raised the trunk.
As he pulled the trash bag of stolen goods from the car, he noticed two additional
packages also lay in the trunk...packages that were not part of the stolen goods and not
there when he went on duty earlier that evening. His face turned bright red as he noticed
that one was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action set, and the other a small Sony
portable stereo/tape player. At first he thought that his fat friend may have actually
thought of something more than donuts and gone to the department store for him as he
reclaimed the stolen merchandise, until a note attached to the boom box caught his eye.
You did a family a great service tonight, and I hope you
will do one for me as well. I am way behind this year, so
could you please deliver these to your children for me.
Merry Christmas.
Kris Kringle
A few moments later, two officers just coming on duty were dumbfounded as they found
Sal lying on the concrete floor, laughing hysterically and singing jingle bells as if he had
been drinking. They were even more shocked when he jumped up and hugged them both,
screaming "Merry Christmas!!" before running into the station house like a madman, a
twinkle in his eye that he hadn't had in years.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Merry Christmas
http://ping.fm/NPV5n
Remember that a gift should be treasured; not only the ones that are wrapped but ones that are bestowed upon you.

Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together, they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate.

The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.

One year, as winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.

Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season that he and his son had looked forward to would visit his house no longer.

On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hands.

He introduced himself to the old man by saying, "I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you."

As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man's son had told everyone of his, not to mention his father's, love of fine art. "I am no artist," said the soldier, "but I want to give you this."

As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking detail.

Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars worth of art. His task completed, the old man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.

During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that, even though is son was no longer with him, the boy would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stifled his caring heart.

As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease his grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.

The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation that the collector's passing and his only son dead, those paintings would be sold at auction. According to the will of the old man, all art works would be auctioned on Christmas Day, the day he had received the greatest gift.

The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim, "I have the greatest collection."

The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid, but the room was silent. "Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked. Minutes passed, and no one spoke. From the back of the room came a voice, "Who cares about that painting? It's just a picture of his son." "Let's forget about it and move on to the good stuff," more voices echoed in agreement.

"No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now, who will take the son?" Finally, a neighbor of the old man spoke. "Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That's all I have. I knew the boy; so I would like to have it.

"I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" asked the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice, gone." The gavel fell.

Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on the real treasures!" The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced that the auction was over.

Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean, it's over? We didn't come here for a picture of some old guy's son. What about all these paintings? There are millions of dollars worth of art here! I demand that you explain what is going on!"

The auctioneer replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son...gets it all."

Puts things into perspective, doesn't it? Just as those art collectors discovered on Christmas Day, the message is still the same: the love of a father, whose greatest joy came from his son who went away and gave his life rescuing others; and because of that father's love, whoever takes the Son gets it all.

In life, many things will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart.

--- Author Unknown

Friday, December 17, 2010

A SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS
http://ping.fm/erAeG
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
my daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep
in perfect contentment, or so it would seem.
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,
Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
and I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts,
to the window that danced with a warm fire's light.
Then he sighed and he said "It's really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."

"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
that separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me."

"My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers.
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam
And now it is my turn and so, here I am."

"I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile."
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red white and blue... an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home,
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat,
I can carry the weight of killing another
or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers
who stand at the front against any and all,
to insure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone.
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,
to know you remember we fought and we bled
is payment enough, and with that we will trust.
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

--- Copyright © 2000 Michael Marks

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Christmas Envelope
http://ping.fm/Pi9JH
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so. It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas-oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending, the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma-the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented
a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he
swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition-one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas,
and on and on. The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always
the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and
someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

May we all remember the Christmas spirit this year and always.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

THE CHRISTMAS ORANGE
http://ping.fm/77cTO
I'd like to tell you a story my grandmother told me when I was six or seven years old. We had gone to her home for Thanksgiving dinner and the drive was rather a long one. I had filled the time with making a list of all the things that I wanted for Christmas that year.

Later that evening after I was ready for bed, I showed the list to my grandmother. After she read it, she said, "My goodness, that really is a long list!" Then she picked me up and set me on her lap in the big rocking chair and told me this story:

"Once there was a little girl who came to live in an orphanage in Denmark" (Now my grandmother was from Denmark, so this story might even be true.) "As Christmas time grew near, all of the other children began telling the little girl about the beautiful Christmas tree that would appear in the huge downstairs hall on Christmas morning. After their usual, very plain breakfast, each child would be given their one and only Christmas gift; small, single orange."

At this point I looked up at my grandmother in disbelief, but she assured me that was all each child would receive for Christmas.

"Now the headmaster of the orphanage was very stern and he thought Christmas to be a bother. So on Christmas Eve, when he caught the little girl creeping down the stairs to catch a peek at the much-heard-of Christmas tree, he sharply declared that the little girl would not receive her Christmas orange because she had been so curious as to disobey the rules. The little girl ran back to her room broken-hearted and crying at her terrible fate."

"The next morning as the other children were going down to breakfast, the little girl stayed in her bed. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing the others receive their gift when there would be none for her."

"Later, as the children came back upstairs, the little girl was surprised to be handed a napkin. As she carefully opened it, there to her disbelief was an orange all peeled and sectioned."

"How could this be?" she asked.

"It was then that she found how each child had taken one section from their orange and given it to her so that she, too, would have a Christmas orange."

How I loved this story! I would ask my grandmother to tell it to me over and over as I grew up. Every Christmas, as I pull a big, juicy orange from my stocking, I think of this story. What an example of the true meaning of Christmas those orphan children displayed that Christmas morning. How I wish the world, as a whole would display that same kind of Christ-like concern for others, not just at Christmas, but throughout the year.

--- Author Unknown

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

" Ideas can be life changing. Sometimes all you need to open the door is just one more good idea."
Jim Rohn

Monday, December 13, 2010

The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination.
Tommy Lasorda

Friday, December 10, 2010

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.
John F. Kennedy

Thursday, December 9, 2010

I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I have.
Abraham Lincoln

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Sometimes when we are generous in small, barely detectable ways it can change someone else's life forever.
Margaret Cho

Monday, December 6, 2010

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.
Albert Einstein

Friday, December 3, 2010

What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?
- Jean Jacques Rousseau

Thursday, December 2, 2010

You cannot do a kindness too soon because you never know how soon it will be too late.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

We get to make a living; we give to make a life.
- Winston Churchill

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom.
- Theodore Isaac Rubin

Monday, November 29, 2010

For beauty being the best of all we know
Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims Of nature.
Robert Bridges

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Acción de Gracias! Que este día sea lleno de amigos, familiares y seres queridos. Estoy muy honrado y agradecido de estar conectado con gente increíble para muchos y yo realmente apreciamos todo el que nos ha apoyado con la Conexión de todos nosotros. Días como hoy me recuerdan aún más por qué somos la conexión de todos es necesaria. Este sueño de ustedes y el mundo de mí y acabar con la pobreza a nivel mundial está ocurriendo un regalo a la vez. Mi Bendito seas, oh este día tan especial. Usted es un verdadero regalo para mí y estoy muy agradecido por tenerte en mi vida.
Happy Thanksgiving! May this day be filled with friends, family and loved ones. I am so honored and grateful to be connected with so many amazing people and I truly appreciate everyone who has supported us with Connecting Us All. Days like today remind me even more why Connecting Us All is needed. This dream of a You AND Me World and ending poverty globally is happening one gift at a time. My you be blessed oh this very special day. You are truly a gift to me and I am so thankful for having you in my life.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

"Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." Melody Beattie

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Enthusiasm is the mother of effort, and without it nothing great was ever achieved.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monday, November 22, 2010

"We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves." Guatama Buddha

Friday, November 19, 2010

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."
Marcel Proust

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius and power and magic in it.
Goethe

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.
Scott Adams

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Cherish your visions and your dreams as they are the children of your soul, the blueprints of your ultimate achievements.
Napoleon Hill

Monday, November 15, 2010

Tonight's Registration to the FLIP'N Launch - http://ping.fm/HhI3O
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Saturday, November 13, 2010

This will be the biggest item to ever hit the web. Our goal is to raise 10 million dollars in humanitarian aid and help over 1 million people create abundance this year. Don't reviewing this newsletter and watching the video! http://ping.fm/6wYwD

Friday, November 12, 2010

Join Connecting Us All on Nov. 15th for the launch of their new system. "Let's Start FLIP'N!"
http://ping.fm/mwErx
The Rock Club
http://ping.fm/nn407
One night when I was in second grade, I saw something on the news that really bothered
Seek the wisdom of the ages, but look at the world through the eyes of a child.
- Ron Wild

Thursday, November 11, 2010

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.
John F. Kennedy

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The thing always happens that you really believe in; and the belief in a thing makes it happen.
Frank Loyd Wright

Monday, November 8, 2010

Talents are best nurtured in solitude. Character is best formed in the stormy billows of the world.
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

FLIP PRESENTATION ANNOUNCEMENT!
Date: Today, Wednesday November 3, 2010 at 6:00 PM Mountain Time. This is a special invitation to introduce the new FLIP program! Everyone is welcome and we will be translating this into Spanish so bring everyone! Registration Web Link: http://ping.fm/oKTaT

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Trust the dreams for hidden in them is the gate to eternity.
Kahlil Gibran

Monday, November 1, 2010

When the best things are not possible, the best may be made of those that are. - Richard Hooker

Sunday, October 31, 2010

EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN ABOUT GIFTING, ABUNDANCE AND TEAMS WILL CHANGE ON SUPER SATURDAY – ITS TIME TO START FLIP’N!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Edith Warton

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must first be overcome.
Samuel Jackson

Monday, October 25, 2010

Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero! (Seize the day, put no trust in tomorrow)
Horace/Quintus Hortius Flaccus

Thursday, October 21, 2010

The seat of knowledge is in the head, of wisdom,
in the heart.
William Hazlitt

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Happiness resides not in possessions and not in gold; the feeling of happiness dwells in the soul.
Democritus

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."
~ Henry David Thoreau

Friday, October 15, 2010

Cheese Night - My Birthday Party and a Halloween Party tonight at my place. If you want to come call Sarah for the details 801-381-1180.
We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give. -- Winston Churchill

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Of all the attitudes we can acquire, surely the attitude of gratitude is the most important and by far the most life-changing. ~ Zig Ziglar

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

The only way of finding the limits of the possible is by going beyond them into the impossible.
Arthur C. Clarke

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

If your actions inspire others to dream more,
learn more, do more and become more,
you are a leader.
John Quincy Adams

Monday, October 11, 2010

To reach a port we must sail, sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it. But we must not drift or lie at anchor Oliver Wendell Holmes

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Celebrate your blessings today. I am in gratitude this day for all my friends , family and loved ones. 

Friday, October 8, 2010

"If we cannot end now our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity."
John F. Kennedy

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Today's workout is going great! Let's all agree to a random act of kindness today. Are u up for the challenge?
"The secret of discipline is motivation. When a man is sufficiently motivated, discipline will take care of itself."
Sir Alexander Paterson

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable
- Helen Keller

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Optimism is essential to achievement and it is also the foundation of courage and true progress.
- Nicholas Murray Butler

Monday, October 4, 2010

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.
- Kahlil Gibran

Saturday, October 2, 2010

First call was huge! Many countries logged in! Call two is in 10 minutes! Log in & register now: http://ping.fm/uv5Ei and select Events.
TODAY IS BIG! The Connecting Us All Super Saturday Mega Event is here: Invitation calls are at 2, 4, 6 and the anniversary mega call is at 8(MDT). Don't miss these calls, take the time to create a difference! Register at http://ping.fm/uv5Ei and select Events.

Friday, October 1, 2010

The miracle is this – the more we share, the more we have.
- Leonard Nimoy

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Our lives improve only when we take chances - and the first most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves. Walter Anderson

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Never giving up and pushing forward will unlock all the potential we are capable of.
- Christy Borgeld

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

BIG BIG NEWS! First Year Celebration! Connecting Us All – The Worldwide Giving Networks website is complete. ARE YOU READY? Be on our Mega Super Saturday Event October 2, 2010. This historic event unveils new contests, promotions and the launch of our worldwide advertising campaign. Get everyone you know who is ready for explosive growth on this event. You and your teams must register for this event because space will run out. This week over 35,000,000 invitations will be sent, over 50,000 ads will run, over 30,000 calls are being made and the worldwide marketing goes live. Getting Excited yet? Now is the time to get engaged because Saturday will knock your socks off! Register at www.connectingusall.org!
There are genuinely sufficient resources in the world to ensure that no one, nowhere, at no time, should go hungry.
- Ed Asner

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Fire ~ Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/kKiEf
A couple, who we shall call John and Mary, had a nice home and two lovely children, a boy and a girl. John had a good job and had just been asked to go on a business trip to another city and would be gone for several days. It was decided that Mary needed an outing and would go along too. They hired a reliable woman to care for the children and made the trip, returning home a little earlier than they had planned.

As they drove into their hometown feeling glad to be back, they noticed smoke, and they went off their usual route to see what it was. They found a home in flames. Mary said, "Oh well it isn't our fire, let's go home."

But John drove closer and exclaimed, "That home belongs to Fred Jones who works at the plant. He wouldn't be off work yet, maybe there is something we could do." "It has nothing to do with us." Protested Mary. "You have your good clothes on lets not get any closer."

But John drove up and stopped and they were both horror stricken to see the whole house in flames. A woman on the lawn was in hysterics screaming, "The children! Get the children!" John grabbed her by the shoulder saying, "Get a hold of yourself and tell us where the children are!" "In the basement," sobbed the woman, "down the hall and to the left."

In spite of Mary's protests John grabbed the water hose and soaked his clothes, put his wet handkerchief on his head and bolted for the basement which was full of smoke and scorching hot. He found the door and grabbed two children, holding one under each arm like the football player he was. As he left he could hear some more whimpering. He delivered the two badly frightened and nearly suffocated children into waiting arms and filled his lungs with fresh air and started back asking how many more children were down there. They told him two more and Mary grabbed his arm and screamed, "John! Don't go back! It's suicide! That house will cave in any second!"

But he shook her off and went back by feeling his way down the smoke filled hallway and into the room. It seemed an eternity before he found both children and started back. They were all three coughing and he stooped low to get what available air he could. As he stumbled up the endless steps the thought went through his mind that there was something strangely familiar about the little bodies clinging to him, and at last when they came out into the sunlight and fresh air, he found that he had just rescued his own children.

The baby-sitter had left them at this home while she did some shopping.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Dell/Alienware Update: Today they called again saying they are ready to fix this. How would someone who didn't have these resources resolve their issue. Really this is a joke. Summary 2 new systems paid in cash up front that didn't work, 4 Replacements, 350 Hours on the phone, emails, letters with support, customer service, supervisors, technical support and still this issue is not resolved. I hope everyone chooses to never use these scam artists!
Fire Update: thank u for your prayers. The fire is much better then last night and I am setting the intention they will put it out today with no more damage.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Please pray for our community! A massive wildfire is out of control and approaching our homes. The wind is blowing it right towards us and fast. I am headed to the fire to help. I will update when I get out safely
The parents of Albert Einstein were worried that he was mentally slow because it took him a long time to learn how to speak. I beleive he already learned the greatest gift and that's being a good listener.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Look within, for within is the wellspring of virtue, which will not cease flowing, if you cease not from digging.
- Marcus Aurelius

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I'm amazed, I received 1 of the 2 replacement laptops from Dell & so far their working. It's a shame that it required so much to resolve!
The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Eleanor Roosevelt

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Dell/Alienware Interesting Update - My social media support request last week seemed to work. They said they shipped my replacement. I guess knowing over 40,000 people through social media seemed to grab their attention.
Seize every day as an adventure and your spirit will soar when
you discover the wonderful surprises life has to offer.

Monday, September 13, 2010

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.
- Helen Keller

Sunday, September 12, 2010

2 years ago today I married the women of my dreams and in approximately 10 min from now she was throwing cake at me:) life is amazing when you cherish, honer and love each other. I love her then, now and forever!

Friday, September 10, 2010

Never giving up and pushing forward will unlock all the potential we are capable of.
- Christy Borgeld

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Unless we think of others and do something for them, we miss one of the greatest sources of happiness.
- Ray Lyman Wilbur

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Destiny is not a matter of chance but of choice. Not something to wish for but to attain.
- William Jennings Bryan

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Part 2/2 - they are still in production! Those of you in media please contact me they cannot continue to fraud people through poor customer service and shipping systems with bad equipment! Please Help!
This is my last resort to resolve this injustice with DELL and Alienware! We paid in full for 2 Mx17 top of the line machines with full 4 year warranty packages. We have logged over 300 hours of customer support calls to them and they keep giving us the run around on replacing our systems. We have spoken to supervisors, agents, customer service and tech support, one day they have shipped and the next they are still in production! Those of you in media please contact me they cannot continue to fraud people through poor customer service and shipping systems with bad equipment! Please Help!
To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has already achieved, but at what he aspires to.
- Kahlil Gibran

Friday, September 3, 2010

The Birth of a Dream ~ by: Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/6GB5i

"Whatever the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve."

Would you agree with the statement that a dream is born from an idea-a simple idea conceived in the mind?

Back in the 19th century two brothers had an idea which eventually became their passionate and consuming dream. Their relentless pursuit of that dream was rewarded with an accomplishment that changed world travel.

On Friday December 17, 1903 at 10:35 AM, the Wright brothers (Wilbur and Orville) achieved their dream. They flew "the world's first power-driven, heavier-than-air machine in which man made free, controlled, and sustained flight." This memorable feat took place at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina on a cold windy morning.

The dream started with an idea that was planted in their minds by a toy given to them by their father. In the words of the boys, "Late in the autumn of 1878, our father came into the house one evening with some object partly concealed in his hands, and before we could see what it was, he tossed it into the air. Instead of falling to the floor, as we expected, it flew across the room till it struck the ceiling, where it fluttered awhile, and finally sank to the floor." This simple toy made of bamboo, cork and stretched rubber bands, fascinated the Wright brothers and sparked their lifelong interest in human flight.

The Wright brothers were great thinkers. They enjoyed learning new things. Initially, they recycled broken parts, built a printing press and opened their own printing office. Their interest moved to bicycles and in 1893, they opened the Wright Cycle Company where they sold and repaired bicycles. But Wilbur (the older brother) had his mind set on something more exciting. He decided to seriously pursue flying.

The brothers spent many hours researching, testing their machines and making improvements after unsuccessful attempts at human flight. What started out as a hobby soon became a passion. With determination and patience they realized their dream in 1903.

The next time you hear or see an airplane or travel on one, remember where it all started. A simply idea conceived in the minds of two young men who did not finish high school. Believe it or not, they did not have a University degree in Aeronautical Engineering, Mathematics, Physics or any other subject. They were not scientists in the true sense of the word. In fact, many of their peers who did not witness their accomplishment, had trouble believing that two bicycle mechanics from Dayton, Ohio did what they claimed.

What idea or ideas are YOU working on? Have you said you can't do this or that because you are not a scientist? Have you limited yourself by saying you are not smart enough? Or have you joined the majority in saying that everything has already been invented or discovered?

Since the introduction of the first generation of personal computers in 1981, we are able to do many things more efficiently. With a super computer between your ears and the personal computer at your finger tips, your dream can be achieved. First, give birth to that dream with an idea. A simply idea that ANYONE of us can conceive!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

There may be peace without joy, and joy without peace, but the two combined make happiness
- John Buchan

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.
- Anatole France

Monday, August 30, 2010

The grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for.
- Allan K. Chalmers

Friday, August 27, 2010

There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.
- John Andrew Holmes Jr.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

You have not lived until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.
- Anonymous

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The unselfish effort to bring cheer to others will be the beginning of a happier life for ourselves.
- Helen Keller

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

One of the things I keep learning is that the secret of being happy is doing things for other people.
- Dick Gregory

Monday, August 23, 2010

Ugly ~ Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/QtycF
Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love.

The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.

His tail has long age been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, and even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. “That’s one UGLY cat!!”

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If ever someone picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor’s huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly’s sad life was almost at an end.

Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. “I must be hurting him terribly,” I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear.

Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.

Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply.

It was time to give my all to those I cared for. Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be like Ugly.

Friday, August 20, 2010

All The Way Shay!
Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/yRtRx
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: ‘When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?’

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. ‘I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.’

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys were playing baseball. Shay asked, ‘Do you think they’ll let me play?’ Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, ‘We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.’

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt . His father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, ‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!’ Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, ‘Run to second, run to second!’ Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way Shay!’

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, ‘Run to third, Shay, run to third!’

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, ‘Shay, run home! Run home!’ Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

‘That day’, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, ‘the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world’.

Young Shay would never forget what it felt like to be a hero that day.

Neither would the other boys.


"The decency of any society can be measured by how it treats its most vulnerable citizens."

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Doing Well By Doing Good ~ William R. Brody
http://ping.fm/NHXHl
Excerpted from a speech delivered by Mr. Brody to the graduating class of John Hopkins University on May 26, 2005.

There is a man who I'd like to tell you about. His name is Sandy Greenberg. In his youth, Sandy was a very good student, but he came from a poor family. And so he went to Columbia University on a scholarship and there he met his roommate who also was receiving financial aid.

Now while he was a sophomore at Columbia University, Sandy contracted an eye disease that eventually proved to be glaucoma. But the trouble was, it wasn't detected early enough, and as a result he became legally blind. I ask you all to imagine for a moment having been sighted all your life, and then all of a sudden being faced, in a very competitive school, with losing so much sight you could no longer read. This is what happened to Sandy Greenberg.

But something else happened to Sandy that may surprise you. Sandy said that when he lost his sight, his roommate would read his textbooks to him, every night.

So I'm going to put you in that position, in a competitive school like Columbia, or Johns Hopkins. If your roommate had a serious disability, would you take the time to read textbooks to him every night, knowing the more you spend time reading textbooks to your roommate, perhaps the less well you might do with your other activities? That's not as easy a question as it first appears.

But luckily for Sandy, his roommate did. And as a result, Sandy went on to graduate with honors. He got a Fulbright Scholarship, and he went off to study at Oxford. He was still quite poor, but he said he had managed to save about five hundred dollars as he went along.

His roommate, meanwhile, also went on to graduate school. One day, Sandy got a call from him at Oxford. And his former roommate said, "Sandy I'm really unhappy. I really don't like being in graduate school, and I don't want to do this."

So Sandy asked, "Well what do you want to do?"

And his roommate told him, "Sandy, I really love to sing. I have a high school friend who plays the guitar. And we would really like to try our hand in the music business. But we need to make a promo record, and in order to do that I need $500."

So Sandy Greenberg told me he took all his life savings and sent it to his roommate. He told me, "You know, what else could I do? He made my life; I needed to help make his life."

So, I hope you'll remember the power of doing well by doing good. Each of you, in your own lives, will be faced with challenges, with roadblocks, with problems that you didn't anticipate or expect. How you are able to deal with adversity will be influenced, to no small extent, by how you deal with others along the way. What you get will depend a lot on what you give. And that's the end of the story of doing well, by doing good.

Ah! I almost forgot. You probably are wanting to know who Sandy's roommate was. I think you've heard of him. Sandy's roommate was a fellow by the name of Art Garfunkel, and he teamed up with another musician by the name of Paul Simon. That $500 helped them cut a record that eventually became "The Sounds of Silence." Recently, we had the pleasure of going to Sandy's daughter's wedding, and it was Art Garfunkel who sang as Sandy walked his daughter down the aisle.

When you get to be my age (which, for some of you, is really old, (though it doesn't seem so old to me anymore), you will find yourself beginning to ask, did my life make a difference?

That's the day of personal reckoning. And I think the only way to face it is to consider, every day of your life: How can I do something for somebody else? How can I give back to others? It may be teaching, it may be becoming a doctor, you may be successful in business - no matter what your career path, there will always be the opportunity to give back. The chance will present itself to be giving of your time, giving of your money, but mostly, to be giving of yourselves, of your own heart and soul.

My hope today, as you commence to new beginnings, is you will always keep your eyes open for those opportunities to give and embrace them as your best sure way of doing well.
There is a man who I'd like to tell you about. His name is Sandy Greenberg. In his youth, Sandy was a very good student, but he came from a poor family. And so he went to Columbia University on a scholarship and there he met his roommate who also was receiving financial aid.

Now while he was a sophomore at Columbia University, Sandy contracted an eye disease that eventually proved to be glaucoma. But the trouble was, it wasn't detected early enough, and as a result he became legally blind. I ask you all to imagine for a moment having been sighted all your life, and then all of a sudden being faced, in a very competitive school, with losing so much sight you could no longer read. This is what happened to Sandy Greenberg.

But something else happened to Sandy that may surprise you. Sandy said that when he lost his sight, his roommate would read his textbooks to him, every night.

So I'm going to put you in that position, in a competitive school like Columbia, or Johns Hopkins. If your roommate had a serious disability, would you take the time to read textbooks to him every night, knowing the more you spend time reading textbooks to your roommate, perhaps the less well you might do with your other activities? That's not as easy a question as it first appears.

But luckily for Sandy, his roommate did. And as a result, Sandy went on to graduate with honors. He got a Fulbright Scholarship, and he went off to study at Oxford. He was still quite poor, but he said he had managed to save about five hundred dollars as he went along.

His roommate, meanwhile, also went on to graduate school. One day, Sandy got a call from him at Oxford. And his former roommate said, "Sandy I'm really unhappy. I really don't like being in graduate school, and I don't want to do this."

So Sandy asked, "Well what do you want to do?"

And his roommate told him, "Sandy, I really love to sing. I have a high school friend who plays the guitar. And we would really like to try our hand in the music business. But we need to make a promo record, and in order to do that I need $500."

So Sandy Greenberg told me he took all his life savings and sent it to his roommate. He told me, "You know, what else could I do? He made my life; I needed to help make his life."

So, I hope you'll remember the power of doing well by doing good. Each of you, in your own lives, will be faced with challenges, with roadblocks, with problems that you didn't anticipate or expect. How you are able to deal with adversity will be influenced, to no small extent, by how you deal with others along the way. What you get will depend a lot on what you give. And that's the end of the story of doing well, by doing good.

Ah! I almost forgot. You probably are wanting to know who Sandy's roommate was. I think you've heard of him. Sandy's roommate was a fellow by the name of Art Garfunkel, and he teamed up with another musician by the name of Paul Simon. That $500 helped them cut a record that eventually became "The Sounds of Silence." Recently, we had the pleasure of going to Sandy's daughter's wedding, and it was Art Garfunkel who sang as Sandy walked his daughter down the aisle.

When you get to be my age (which, for some of you, is really old, (though it doesn't seem so old to me anymore), you will find yourself beginning to ask, did my life make a difference?

That's the day of personal reckoning. And I think the only way to face it is to consider, every day of your life: How can I do something for somebody else? How can I give back to others? It may be teaching, it may be becoming a doctor, you may be successful in business - no matter what your career path, there will always be the opportunity to give back. The chance will present itself to be giving of your time, giving of your money, but mostly, to be giving of yourselves, of your own heart and soul.

My hope today, as you commence to new beginnings, is you will always keep your eyes open for those opportunities to give and embrace them as your best sure way of doing well.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Real Meaning Of Peace
Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/qeAK5
There once was a king who offered a prize to the artist
who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists
tried. The king looked at all the pictures. But there
were only two he really liked, and he had to choose
between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a
perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around
it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.
All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect
picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged
and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell and in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.

But when the king looked closely, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest - in perfect peace.

Which picture do you think won the prize? The king chose the second picture. Do you know why?

"Because," explained the king, "peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace."

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

This months Connecting Us All newsletter is out! http://ping.fm/MicNP
The Pretty One
Roger Dean Kiser
http://ping.fm/8lZQ5
It had been a very long night. Our black cocker spaniel 'Precious' was having a difficult delivery. I lay on the floor beside her large four-foot square cage, watching her every movement. Watching and waiting, just in case I had to rush her to the veterinarian.

After six hours the puppies started to appear. The first-born was black and white. The second and third puppies were tan and brown in color. The fourth and fifth were also spotted black and white. "One, two, three, four, five," I counted to myself as I walked down the hallway to wake my wife, Judy, and tell her that everything was fine.

As we walked back down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, I noticed a sixth puppy had been born and was now laying all by itself over to the side of the cage. I picked up the small puppy and laid it on top of the large pile of puppies, who were whining and trying to nurse on the mother. Precious immediately pushed the small puppy away from rest of the group. She refused to recognize it as a member of her family.

"Something's wrong," said Judy.

I reached over and picked up the puppy. My heart sank inside my chest when I saw the little puppy had a cleft lip and palate and could not close its little mouth. I decided right there and then that if there was any way to save this animal I was going to give it my best shot.

I took the puppy to the vet and was told nothing could be done unless we were willing to spend about a thousand dollars to try and correct the defect. He told us that the puppy would die mainly because it could not suckle. After returning home, Judy and I decided that we could not afford to spend that kind of money without getting some type of assurance from the vet that the puppy had a chance to live. However, that did not stop me from purchasing a syringe and feeding the puppy by hand. Which I did every day and night, every two hours, for more than ten days. The little puppy survived and learned to eat on his own as long as it was soft canned food.

The fifth week I placed an ad in the newspaper, and within a week we had people interested in all of the pups, except the one with the deformity. Late one afternoon I went to the store to pick up a few groceries. Upon returning I happened to see the old retired schoolteacher, who lived across the street from us, waving at me. She had read in the paper that we had puppies and was wondering if she might get one from us for her grandson and his family. I told her all the puppies had found homes, but I would keep my eyes open for anyone else who might have an available cocker spaniel. I also mentioned that if someone should change their mind, I would let her know. Within days, all but one of the puppies had been picked up by their new families. This left me with one brown and tan cocker as well as the smaller puppy with the cleft lip and palate.

Two days passed without me hearing anything from the gentleman who had been promised the tan and brown pup. I telephoned the schoolteacher and told her I had one puppy left and that she was welcome to come and look at it. She advised me that she was going to pick up her grandson and would come over at about eight o'clock that evening.

That night at around seven-thirty, Judy and I were eating supper when we heard a knock on the front door. When I opened the door, the man who had wanted the tan and brown pup was standing there. We walked inside, took care of the adoption details and I handed him the puppy. Judy and I did not know what we would do or say when the teacher showed up with her grandson. At exactly eight o'clock the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was the schoolteacher with her grandson standing behind her. I explained to her the man had come for the puppy after all, and there were no puppies left. "I'm sorry, Jeffery. They found homes for all the puppies," she told her grandson.

Just at that moment, the small puppy left in the bedroom began to yelp.

"My puppy! My puppy!" yelled the little boy as he ran out from behind his grandmother.

I just about fell over when I saw that the small child also had a cleft lip and palate. The boy ran past me as fast as he could, down the hallway to where the puppy was still yelping. When the three of us made it to the bedroom, the small boy was holding the puppy in his arms. He looked up at his grandmother and said, "Look, Grandma. They found homes for all the puppies except the pretty one, and he looks just like me.”

The schoolteacher turned to us, "Is this puppy available?"

“Yes,” I answered. “That puppy is available.”

The little boy, who was now hugging the puppy, chimed in, "My grandma told me these kind of puppies are real expensive and that I have to take real good care of it."

The lady opened her purse, but I reached over and pushed her hand back down into her purse so that she would not pull her wallet out. "How much do you think this puppy is worth?" I asked the boy. "About a dollar?" "No. This puppy is very, very expensive," he replied.

"More than a dollar?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so," said his grandmother.

The boy stood there pressing the small puppy against his cheek. "We could not possibly take less than two dollars for this puppy," Judy said, squeezing my hand. "Like you said, it's the pretty one."

The schoolteacher took out two dollars and handed it to the young boy.

"It's your dog now, Jeffery. You pay the man."

Still holding the puppy tightly, the boy proudly handed me the money. Any worries I’d had about the puppy’s future were gone.

The image of the little boy and his matching pup stays with me still. I think it must be a wonderful feeling for any young person to look at themselves in the mirror and see nothing, except "the pretty one."

Monday, August 16, 2010

Red Marbles ~ Rod Russell
http://ping.fm/lU7as
During the waning years of the Great Depression in a small southeastern Kansas community, I used to stop by Mr.Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively.

One particular day, Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas...sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not 'zackley .....but, almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering. Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at the mortuary, we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts - very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last when Jim could not change his mind about color or size - they came to pay their debt. "

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho." With loving gentleness, she lifted her husband's lifeless fingers. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined, red marbles!

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Seven Wonders of the World
Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/dMd3p
Junior high school students in Chicago were expand »
studying the Seven Wonders of the World. At
the end of the lesson, the students were asked
to list what they considered to be the Seven
Wonders of the World. Though there was some
disagreement, the following received the
most votes:

1. Egypt's Great Pyramids
2. The Taj Mahal in India
3. The Grand Canyon in Arizona
4. The Panama Canal
5. The Empire State Building
6. St. Peter's Basilica
7. China's Great Wall

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student, a quiet girl, hadn't turned in her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list. The quiet girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many." The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help."

The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the Seven Wonders of the World are:

1. to touch...
2. to taste...
3. to see...
4. to hear... (She hesitated a little, and then added...)
5. to feel...
6. to laugh...
7. and to love.

The room was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.

May this story serve as a gentle reminder to all of us that the things we overlook as simple and ordinary are often the most wonderful - and we don't have to travel anywhere special to experience them.

Enjoy your gifts!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Thirty Second Quiz
Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/ETuR4
Don't bother getting a pen and paper... just read... if you can't
answer them, just keep going.

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America contest.

4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.

5. Name the last five Academy Award winners for Best Actor and Actress.

How did you do?

The point is, none of us remembers the headliners of yesterday. These are no second-rate achievers. They're the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Now here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:

1. Name three teachers who aided your journey through school.

2. Name three friends who helped you through a difficult time.

3. Name five people who have taught you something worth while.

4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.

5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

Easier?

The lesson?

The people who make a difference in your life aren't the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They're the ones who care.


(Wishing you a BEAUTIFUL day!)

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Set Yourself Free
Edmund O'Neill
http://ping.fm/ZhmW3
Set yourself free from anything that might hinder you in becoming the person you want to be. Free yourself from the uncertainties about your abilities or the worth of your dreams, from the fears that you may not be able to achieve them or that they won't be what you wanted.

Set yourself free from the past. The good things from yesterday are still yours in memory; the things you want to forget you will, for tomorrow is only a sunrise away. Free yourself from regret or guilt, and promise to live this day as fully as you can.

Set yourself free from the expectations of others, and never feel guilty or embarrassed if you do not live up to their standards. You are most important to yourself; live by what you feel is best and right for you. Others will come to respect your integrity and honesty.

Set yourself free to simply be yourself, and you will soar higher than you've ever dreamed.