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Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
YOU ARE UNIQUE!
http://ping.fm/wlRDW
Think what a remarkable, unduplicatable, and miraculous thing it is to be you! Of all the people who have come and gone on the earth, since the beginning of time, not ONE of them is like YOU!
No one who has ever lived or is to come has had your combination of abilities, talents, friends, acquaintances, burdens, sorrows and opportunities.
No, one's hair grows exactly the way yours does. No one's finger prints are like yours. No one has the same combination of secret inside jokes and family expressions that you know.
The few people who laugh at all the same things you do, don't sneeze the way you do. No one prays about exactly the same concerns as you do. No one is loved by the same combination of people that love you - NO ONE!
No one before, no one to come. YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY UNIQUE! Enjoy that uniqueness. You do not have to pretend in order to seem more like someone else. You weren't meant to be like someone else. You do not have to lie to conceal the of you that are not like what you see in anyone else.
You were meant to be different. Nowhere ever in all of history will the same things be going in anyone's mind, soul and spirit as are going on in yours right now.
If you did not exist, there would be a hole in creation, a gap in history, something missing from the plan for humankind.
Treasure your uniqueness. It is a gift given only to you. Enjoy it and share it!
No one can reach out to others in the same way that you can. No one can speak your words. No one can convey your meanings. No one can comfort with your kind of comfort. No one can bring your kind of understanding to another person.
No one can be cheerful and lighthearted and joyous in your way. No one can smile your smile. No one else can bring the whole unique impact of you to another human being.
Share your uniqueness. Let it be free to flow out among your family and friends and people you meet in the rush and clutter of living wherever you are. That gift of yourself was given you to enjoy and share. Give yourself away!
See it! Receive it! Let it tickle you! Let it inform you and nudge you and inspire you!
YOU ARE UNIQUE!
--- Author Unknown --- Sent in by Rafael Rodriguez
http://ping.fm/wlRDW
Think what a remarkable, unduplicatable, and miraculous thing it is to be you! Of all the people who have come and gone on the earth, since the beginning of time, not ONE of them is like YOU!
No one who has ever lived or is to come has had your combination of abilities, talents, friends, acquaintances, burdens, sorrows and opportunities.
No, one's hair grows exactly the way yours does. No one's finger prints are like yours. No one has the same combination of secret inside jokes and family expressions that you know.
The few people who laugh at all the same things you do, don't sneeze the way you do. No one prays about exactly the same concerns as you do. No one is loved by the same combination of people that love you - NO ONE!
No one before, no one to come. YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY UNIQUE! Enjoy that uniqueness. You do not have to pretend in order to seem more like someone else. You weren't meant to be like someone else. You do not have to lie to conceal the of you that are not like what you see in anyone else.
You were meant to be different. Nowhere ever in all of history will the same things be going in anyone's mind, soul and spirit as are going on in yours right now.
If you did not exist, there would be a hole in creation, a gap in history, something missing from the plan for humankind.
Treasure your uniqueness. It is a gift given only to you. Enjoy it and share it!
No one can reach out to others in the same way that you can. No one can speak your words. No one can convey your meanings. No one can comfort with your kind of comfort. No one can bring your kind of understanding to another person.
No one can be cheerful and lighthearted and joyous in your way. No one can smile your smile. No one else can bring the whole unique impact of you to another human being.
Share your uniqueness. Let it be free to flow out among your family and friends and people you meet in the rush and clutter of living wherever you are. That gift of yourself was given you to enjoy and share. Give yourself away!
See it! Receive it! Let it tickle you! Let it inform you and nudge you and inspire you!
YOU ARE UNIQUE!
--- Author Unknown --- Sent in by Rafael Rodriguez
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
YOU ARE WORTH IT!
http://ping.fm/2iwWa
Do not undermine your worth by comparing yourself with others.
It is because we are different that each of us is special.
Do not set your goals by what other people deem important.
Only you know what is best for you.
Do not take for granted the things closest to your heart.
Cling to them as you would your life,
For without them, life is meaningless.
Do not let your life slip through your fingers by living in the past
Nor in the future.
By living your life one day at a time,
You live all the days of your life.
Do not give up when you still have something to give.
Nothing is really over until the moment you stop trying.
It is a fragile thread that binds us to each other.
Do not be afraid to encounter risks.
It is by taking chances; that we learn how to be brave.
Do not shut love out of your life by saying it is impossible to find.
The quickest way to receive love is to give love;
The fastest way to lose love is to hold it too tightly.
Do not dismiss your dreams.
To be without dreams is to be without hope;
To be without hope is to be without purpose.
Do not run through life so fast
That you forget not only where you have been,
But also where you are going.
Life is not a race, but a journey to be savored each step of the way.
--- Author Unknown --- Sent in by Andrew Ho --- Malaysia
http://ping.fm/2iwWa
Do not undermine your worth by comparing yourself with others.
It is because we are different that each of us is special.
Do not set your goals by what other people deem important.
Only you know what is best for you.
Do not take for granted the things closest to your heart.
Cling to them as you would your life,
For without them, life is meaningless.
Do not let your life slip through your fingers by living in the past
Nor in the future.
By living your life one day at a time,
You live all the days of your life.
Do not give up when you still have something to give.
Nothing is really over until the moment you stop trying.
It is a fragile thread that binds us to each other.
Do not be afraid to encounter risks.
It is by taking chances; that we learn how to be brave.
Do not shut love out of your life by saying it is impossible to find.
The quickest way to receive love is to give love;
The fastest way to lose love is to hold it too tightly.
Do not dismiss your dreams.
To be without dreams is to be without hope;
To be without hope is to be without purpose.
Do not run through life so fast
That you forget not only where you have been,
But also where you are going.
Life is not a race, but a journey to be savored each step of the way.
--- Author Unknown --- Sent in by Andrew Ho --- Malaysia
Monday, June 14, 2010
YOU'RE WONDERFUL
http://ping.fm/hcsvE
A famous singer had been contracted to sing at a Paris opera house and ticket sales were booming. In fact, the night of the concert, the house was packed; every ticket had been sold.
The feeling of anticipation and excitement was in the air as the house manager took the stage and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your enthusiastic support. I am afraid that due to illness, the man whom you've all come to hear will not be performing tonight. However, we have found a suitable substitute we hope will provide you with comparable entertainment."
The crowd groaned in disappointment and failed to hear the announcer mention the stand-in's name. The environment turned from excitement to frustration.
The stand-in performer gave the performance everything he had. When he had finished, there was nothing but an uncomfortable silence. . . No one applauded.
Suddenly, from the balcony, a little boy stood up and shouted, "Daddy, I think you're wonderful!"
The crowd broke into thunderous applause.
Make someone's day. Tell them you think they're wonderful!
--- Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/hcsvE
A famous singer had been contracted to sing at a Paris opera house and ticket sales were booming. In fact, the night of the concert, the house was packed; every ticket had been sold.
The feeling of anticipation and excitement was in the air as the house manager took the stage and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your enthusiastic support. I am afraid that due to illness, the man whom you've all come to hear will not be performing tonight. However, we have found a suitable substitute we hope will provide you with comparable entertainment."
The crowd groaned in disappointment and failed to hear the announcer mention the stand-in's name. The environment turned from excitement to frustration.
The stand-in performer gave the performance everything he had. When he had finished, there was nothing but an uncomfortable silence. . . No one applauded.
Suddenly, from the balcony, a little boy stood up and shouted, "Daddy, I think you're wonderful!"
The crowd broke into thunderous applause.
Make someone's day. Tell them you think they're wonderful!
--- Author Unknown
Friday, June 11, 2010
Teddy Bear's Call
http://ping.fm/xJ45J
I was on the outskirts of a little Southern town, trying to reach my destination before the sun went down. The old CB was blaring away on channel 1-9, when there came a little boy's voice on the radio line. He said, "Breaker 1-9, is anyone there? Come on back, truckers, and talk to Teddy Bear."
I keyed the mike and said, "You got it, Teddy Bear."
The little boy's voice came back on the air, appreciate the break. "Who we got on the other end?"
I told him my handle and then he began.
"Now I'm not supposed to bother you boys out there. Mom says you're busy and for me to stay off the air. But you see, I get lonely and it helps to talk cause that's about all I can do. I'm crippled and cannot walk."
I came back and told him to fire up that mike, I'd talk to him as long as he'd like.
"This was my dad's radio," the little boy said, "but I guess it's mine and Mom's now cause my daddy's dead. Dad had a wreck about a month ago. He was trying to get home in a blinding snow. Mom has to work now to make ends meet. I'm not much help with my crippled feet. She says not to worry that she'll make it all right. But I hear her crying sometimes late at night.
"You know, there's one thing I want more than anything else to see. Ah I know you guys are too busy to bother with me. But, you see, my dad used to take me for rides when he was home. But I guess that's all over now since my daddy's gone."
Not one breaker came in on that CB as that little crippled boy talked to me. I tried hard to swallow the lump, it just would not stay down as I thought about my boy in at home in hometown.
He continued, "Dad was going to take Mom and me with him later on this year. I remember him saying, 'Someday this old truck will be yours, Teddy Bear.' But I know I will never get to ride in an 18-wheeler again. But this old base will keep me in touch with all my trucker friends. Teddy Bear's going to back out now and leave you alone cause it's almost time for Mom to come home. But you give me a shout when you're passing through and I'll be happy to come back to you."
Well I came back and said, "Before you 10-10, what's your home 20, little CB friend?"
He gave me his home address and I didn't hesitate one second because this hot load of freight was just gonna have to wait. I turned that truck around on a dime and headed for Jackson Street 229.
As I rounded the corner, I got one heck of a shock, 18-wheelers lined up for three city blocks. I guess every trucker from miles around had caught Teddy Bear's call, and that little boy was having a ball.
For as fast as one driver would carry him in, another would carry him to his truck and they'd take off again. Well you better believe I took my turn at riding Teddy Bear. And then I carried him back in and put him down in his chair.
Buddy, if I never live to see happiness again, I want you to know I saw it that day in the face of that little man. We took up a collection before his mom came home. Each driver said goodbye and then they were gone. He shook my hand with a mile-long grin and said, "So long trucker, I'll catch you again."
I hit that interstate with tears in my eyes. I turned on my radio and got another surprise.
"Breaker 1-9," came a voice on the air, "just one word of thanks from Mom Teddy Bear. We wish each and every one a special prayer for you cause you just made my little boy's dream come true. I'll sign off now before I start to cry. May God ride with you; 10-4 and goodbye."
--- Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/xJ45J
I was on the outskirts of a little Southern town, trying to reach my destination before the sun went down. The old CB was blaring away on channel 1-9, when there came a little boy's voice on the radio line. He said, "Breaker 1-9, is anyone there? Come on back, truckers, and talk to Teddy Bear."
I keyed the mike and said, "You got it, Teddy Bear."
The little boy's voice came back on the air, appreciate the break. "Who we got on the other end?"
I told him my handle and then he began.
"Now I'm not supposed to bother you boys out there. Mom says you're busy and for me to stay off the air. But you see, I get lonely and it helps to talk cause that's about all I can do. I'm crippled and cannot walk."
I came back and told him to fire up that mike, I'd talk to him as long as he'd like.
"This was my dad's radio," the little boy said, "but I guess it's mine and Mom's now cause my daddy's dead. Dad had a wreck about a month ago. He was trying to get home in a blinding snow. Mom has to work now to make ends meet. I'm not much help with my crippled feet. She says not to worry that she'll make it all right. But I hear her crying sometimes late at night.
"You know, there's one thing I want more than anything else to see. Ah I know you guys are too busy to bother with me. But, you see, my dad used to take me for rides when he was home. But I guess that's all over now since my daddy's gone."
Not one breaker came in on that CB as that little crippled boy talked to me. I tried hard to swallow the lump, it just would not stay down as I thought about my boy in at home in hometown.
He continued, "Dad was going to take Mom and me with him later on this year. I remember him saying, 'Someday this old truck will be yours, Teddy Bear.' But I know I will never get to ride in an 18-wheeler again. But this old base will keep me in touch with all my trucker friends. Teddy Bear's going to back out now and leave you alone cause it's almost time for Mom to come home. But you give me a shout when you're passing through and I'll be happy to come back to you."
Well I came back and said, "Before you 10-10, what's your home 20, little CB friend?"
He gave me his home address and I didn't hesitate one second because this hot load of freight was just gonna have to wait. I turned that truck around on a dime and headed for Jackson Street 229.
As I rounded the corner, I got one heck of a shock, 18-wheelers lined up for three city blocks. I guess every trucker from miles around had caught Teddy Bear's call, and that little boy was having a ball.
For as fast as one driver would carry him in, another would carry him to his truck and they'd take off again. Well you better believe I took my turn at riding Teddy Bear. And then I carried him back in and put him down in his chair.
Buddy, if I never live to see happiness again, I want you to know I saw it that day in the face of that little man. We took up a collection before his mom came home. Each driver said goodbye and then they were gone. He shook my hand with a mile-long grin and said, "So long trucker, I'll catch you again."
I hit that interstate with tears in my eyes. I turned on my radio and got another surprise.
"Breaker 1-9," came a voice on the air, "just one word of thanks from Mom Teddy Bear. We wish each and every one a special prayer for you cause you just made my little boy's dream come true. I'll sign off now before I start to cry. May God ride with you; 10-4 and goodbye."
--- Author Unknown
Thursday, June 10, 2010
CARL'S GARDEN
http://ping.fm/vHDzJ
Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well. Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.
When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.
He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.
As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.
Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately", came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.
A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.
The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.
"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked.
"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."
"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church. The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flyer went up. It read "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"
"Carl," he replied.
--- Author Unknown
http://ping.fm/vHDzJ
Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well. Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.
When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.
He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.
As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.
Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately", came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.
A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.
The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.
"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked.
"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."
"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church. The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flyer went up. It read "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"
"Carl," he replied.
--- Author Unknown
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Show Someone You Care
http://ping.fm/lnJeT
I was sitting at the bar of a local restaurant having lunch and taking a break from the daily grind, sitting there thinking about how tough I had it lately and how I was sick of what I was doing. I own a landscape company and never felt I made a difference in people's lives.
As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, a pretty girl who looked about 25 walked in and sat down in a booth waiting for her friend. It didn't take long before I saw she was trying to stay hidden in a way from other people's gazes and my heart sank. You could see her hair was falling out and, at such a young age, she was receiving chemo.
I sat there watching her trying to remain composed and she was having a tough time of it. I ached for her, imagining what it must be like to go through this and yet I know some of her pain.
You see I buried my wife, the love of my life just a few short years ago and watched her slowly fade away. I needed to get a message of hope to this girl but how? What could I do?
Then it hit me! I called over her waitress and explained that I wanted to buy the girl and her friend's lunch but I also told her you can't tell her it was me, it had to remain anonymous. In doing so, I handed her a note to give to the girl when she told her that her tab was paid.
The note read as follows:
"Someone today thought you were beautiful, someone today thought your smile glowed with excitement, someone today thought your eyes lit up the world, someone today cared and wanted you to know this. Enjoy the rest of your day, pretty young lady".
About 15 minutes later the young girl asked for her check and I watched as she was told it was paid for. She asked why? Who? What for? The waitress simply handed her the note and informed her that the gentleman who did it left, as to keep me anonymous.
I watched as she slowly read the note. Her eyes teared up, for only a moment, and then came the smile! A huge, beautiful, hopeful smile! She lit up the room and then sat up straight, not caring who saw her. Her friend also beamed, not for what was done but because her friend was feeling beautiful again.
It's not how we look or what we have, it's not our houses or how many cars we have, nor is it how much money we can earn. No, it isn't. You see it's all about how much we care and what we do, even if it's making someone feel pretty only for a moment.
Yes, lunch cost only a few dollars but you see the wonderful part, the magic was free.
Make a difference today in just one life; it's free.
--- Copyright © 2007 Bill Renda
http://ping.fm/lnJeT
I was sitting at the bar of a local restaurant having lunch and taking a break from the daily grind, sitting there thinking about how tough I had it lately and how I was sick of what I was doing. I own a landscape company and never felt I made a difference in people's lives.
As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, a pretty girl who looked about 25 walked in and sat down in a booth waiting for her friend. It didn't take long before I saw she was trying to stay hidden in a way from other people's gazes and my heart sank. You could see her hair was falling out and, at such a young age, she was receiving chemo.
I sat there watching her trying to remain composed and she was having a tough time of it. I ached for her, imagining what it must be like to go through this and yet I know some of her pain.
You see I buried my wife, the love of my life just a few short years ago and watched her slowly fade away. I needed to get a message of hope to this girl but how? What could I do?
Then it hit me! I called over her waitress and explained that I wanted to buy the girl and her friend's lunch but I also told her you can't tell her it was me, it had to remain anonymous. In doing so, I handed her a note to give to the girl when she told her that her tab was paid.
The note read as follows:
"Someone today thought you were beautiful, someone today thought your smile glowed with excitement, someone today thought your eyes lit up the world, someone today cared and wanted you to know this. Enjoy the rest of your day, pretty young lady".
About 15 minutes later the young girl asked for her check and I watched as she was told it was paid for. She asked why? Who? What for? The waitress simply handed her the note and informed her that the gentleman who did it left, as to keep me anonymous.
I watched as she slowly read the note. Her eyes teared up, for only a moment, and then came the smile! A huge, beautiful, hopeful smile! She lit up the room and then sat up straight, not caring who saw her. Her friend also beamed, not for what was done but because her friend was feeling beautiful again.
It's not how we look or what we have, it's not our houses or how many cars we have, nor is it how much money we can earn. No, it isn't. You see it's all about how much we care and what we do, even if it's making someone feel pretty only for a moment.
Yes, lunch cost only a few dollars but you see the wonderful part, the magic was free.
Make a difference today in just one life; it's free.
--- Copyright © 2007 Bill Renda
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