Carnation Milk Contest

From My InBox:

Carnation Milk 65 Years Ago. This is PRICELESS !!! A little old lady from Wisconsin had worked in and around her family dairy farms since she was old enough to walk, with hours of hard work and little compensation. When canned Carnation Milk became available in grocery stores in the 1940s, she read an advertisement offering $5,000 for the best slogan. The producers wanted a rhyme beginning With 'Carnation Milk is best of all.' She thought to herself, I know everything there is to know about milk and dairy farms. I can do this! She sent in her entry, and several weeks later, a black car pulled up in front of her house. A large man got out, knocked on her door and said, "Ma'am,.....The president of Carnation milk absolutely LOVED your entry.....So much, in fact, that we are here to award you $1,000 even though we will not be able to use it for our advertisements!" He did, however, have one printed up to hang on his office wall. True story!!!

"Good? Bad? Who knows?"

From My InBox:

In old India, there lived a King who loves hunting. One day, he went hunting with his great Doctor. While hunting, the King was pricked by a strange plant on his middle finger. The finger became swollen and painful. The doctor applied a special ointment to the wound and bandage the King's finger.

The King then asked, "Will my finger be alright?"

The Doctor answered, "Good ? Bad ? Who knows ?"

A few days passed and the King's finger became worse. He summoned the doctor and asked, "Will my finger be alright?"

The Doctor answered, "Good ? Bad ? Who knows ?"

A few days later, the King's finger was badly infected and has to be amputated from his hand. The King was furious and ordered the doctor to be jailed and hang in a month's time.

Meanwhile, after a week's of recovery, the King went hunting again. This time he was more unfortunate. He was captured by a cannibal tribe. Before the tribe can burn him as a human sacrifice, the priest noticed he had only nine fingers. It was the tribe's believe that only a person with full and perfect body can be used as sacrifice. So they released the King.

Back to the Kingdom, the King immediately ordered the release of the doctor. The doctor was summoned to the King. The King said: "Great doctor, because of you, I lost my finger but in turn, it saves my life."

The Doctor said, "Good ? Bad ? I know. Great King, if not because of you putting me in jail and thus I cannot go hunting with you. If not, I would have been captured by the tribe and used as the sacrifice. Thank you, you save my life !"

So...Good ? Bad ? Who Knows ?  According to Ajahn Brahm, tragedy itself is an opportunity that teaches us to become kinder and wiser. Unpleasant things happen in life and they happen to everyone. The only difference between a happy person and one who gets depressed is how they respond to disasters. 

Treatment for joint and stomach pain

I received the following slide presentation today.

痛風救星請多 多宣傳 功德

Since it is in Mandarin and I could not read to understand what it is fully about, I did a search and discovered the same slide posted on YouTube with the following information:

Extracted: "I received these slides from Steffi Lee this morning, looks very promising. Drink 3 fresh coconut water every day for 3 weeks and the gout will be healed - you can eat anything! Also, drink Chinese tea make inside a green papaya will also heal stomach problems - Healed! Story in Cantonese sound track - 'Wisdoms Big and Small' by Vicky Tong."

Dr James Wong who shared it has included a moral story in Cantonese which is not related to the subject.

My search continues and I discovered a link to Hoax or Fact which verified it to be a fact that drinking tea brewed in water boiled with papaya is an effective treatment for gout, when taken frequently.

Here is the improved formula by Professor Lai from the China School of Pharmacy to stop joint pain found from the source of this information:

Ingredient:
Papaya
Tea
Water

Method
1) Cut green papaya into small cubes
2) place into the water
3) bring to boil
4) add tea leaves to hot water to brew.

Here is another method used by Mr. Liu Qing, the Chief of the Rende Town in Tainan, who use green papaya as a tea pot to brew the tea.

1) Select green papaya which are short but broader for larger capacity to hold tea.
2) Cut off the top part of the papaya to create at "teapot" cover and make a small ventilation hole on it.
3) Make a small opening at the top of the papaya.
4) Clear away the seeds.
5) Put in the tea leaves and pour in boiling water.
6) Place the "teapot" cover back on top of the papaya.
7) Use toothpicks to secure it on the papaya.
8) Allow tea to brew.

Mr Liu prefers the taste of Oolong tea in his green papaya "teapot" and was pleasantly surprised that the stomach pain he had suffered for many years was healed after a month of consumption.

TAXI

From My InBox:

This is a lovely touching story.
TAXI

I arrived at the address where someone had requested a taxi. I honked
but no one came out. I honked again, nothing. So I walked to the door
and knocked. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could
hear something being dragged across the floor
 
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood
before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil
pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
 
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no
one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with
sheets.
 
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and
glassware.
 
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase
to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and
we walked slowly toward the curb.
 
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I
just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother
treated'.. 'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the
cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, 'Could you drive through
downtown?'
 
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly. 'Oh, I don't mind,'
she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice'.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't
have any family left,' she continued. 'The doctor says I don't have
very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two
hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she
had once worked as an elevator operator.
 
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as
a girl.
 
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the  horizon, she suddenly said,
'I'm tired. Let's go now'
 
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.. It was a low
building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed
under a portico.
 
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were
solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been
expecting her.
 
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman
was already seated in a wheelchair.
 
'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said.

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.
 
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said.
'Thank you.'
 
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.
Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I
didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost
in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if
that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end
his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once,
then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done
anything more important in my life.
 
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great
moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped
in what others may consider a small one

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
 
You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send this to ten
people. But, you might help make the world a little kinder and more
compassionate by sending it on.
 
Thank you, my friend...
 
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might
as well dance.

BEAUTIFUL & TOUCHING

My InBox:

My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter, Sindu, looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice child, quite intelligent for her age.

I cleared my throat and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't you take a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear'.

Sindu softened a bit and wiped her tears with the back of her hands.
'Ok, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire curd Rice, will you give me whatever I ask for?'

'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with mine, and clinched the deal. Now I became a bit anxious.. 'Sindu, dear, you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. Ok?'

'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.

After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with expectation. All our attention was on her.

'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.

'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved off? Impossible!'

'Never in our family!' My mother rasped. 'She has been watching too much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these TV programs!'

'Sindu, darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'

'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried to plead with her.

'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'.
Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.
Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our promises no matter what?'

It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'

'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.

'No. If we go back on our promises, she will never learn to honour her own.. Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes looked big and beautiful.

On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned round and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I thought.

'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued, 'that boy who is walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering
from... leukemia'. She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the schoolmates. Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'

I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are teaching me how selfless real love is!'

The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own
terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they love.

Woman and a Fork

From My InBox:

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things 'in order,' she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.




'There's one more thing,' she said excitedly.



'What's that?' came the Pastor's reply.



'This is very important,' the young woman continued. 'I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.'

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

That surprises you, doesn't it?' the young woman asked.

'Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request,' said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. 'My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!'

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.'

The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, 'What's with the fork?' And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are a very rare jewel , indeed . They make you smile and encourage you to succeed Cherish the time you have , and the memories you share ... Being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.

And keep your fork.

The Stranger

I read this before without the "computer as wife" bit added.

=======================================================

From My InBox:

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small Texas town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger ...he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry the stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind..

Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them.

Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home... Not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.

My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol. But the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and pipes distinguished.
He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked.... And NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner,

waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name?.... .. .

We just call him

'TV.'

(Note: This should be required reading for every household in the world !)

He has a wife now....We call her 'Computer.'

A Motivational Story

Be it good or bad, everything happened for a reason. Value every event in your life. Min Seo shared his story.

My Story

View more presentations from Min Seo.

The 99 Club

From My InBox:

A very apt article depicting the rat race that all of us are involved in our Day to day life. Please read and if you happen to be a member of this 'elite Club, then quit this club today itself and give an opportunity for Happiness and peace of mind to enter your life. It is really worth a try.

Once upon a time, there lived a King who, despite his luxurious lifestyle, was neither happy nor content.

One day, the King came upon a servant who was singing happily while he worked. This fascinated the King; why was he, the Supreme Ruler of the Land, unhappy and gloomy, while a lowly servant had so much joy. The King asked the servant, 'Why are you so happy?'

The man replied, 'Your Majesty, I am nothing but a servant, but my family and I don't need too much - just a roof over our heads and warm food to fill our tummies.'

The king was not satisfied with that reply. Later in the day, he sought the advice of his most trusted advisor.

After hearing the King's woes and the servant's' story, the advisor said, 'Your Majesty, I believe that the servant Has not been made part of The 99 Club.'

'The 99 Club? And what exactly is that?' the King inquired.

The advisor replied, 'Your Majesty, to truly know what The 99 Club is, place 99 Gold coins in a bag and leave it at this servant's doorstep.'

When the servant saw the bag, he took it into his house. When he opened the bag, he let out a great shout of joy... So many gold coins!

He began to count them. After several counts, he was at last convinced that there were 99 coins. He wondered, 'What could've happened to that last gold coin? Surely, no one would leave 99 coins!' He looked everywhere he could, but that final coin was elusive. Finally, exhausted he decided that he was going to have to work harder than ever to earn that gold coin and complete his collection.

From that day, the servant's life was changed. He was overworked, horribly grumpy, and castigated his family for not helping him make that 100th gold coin. He stopped singing while he worked.

Witnessing this drastic transformation, the King was puzzled. When he sought his advisor's help, the advisor said, 'Your Majesty, the servant has now officially joined The 99 Club.'

He continued, 'The 99 Club is a name given to those people who have enough To be happy but are never contented, because they're always yearning and Striving for that extra 1 saying to themselves: 'Let me get that one final thing and then I will be happy for life.'

We can be happy, even with very little in our lives, but the minute we're given something bigger and better, we want even more! We lose our sleep, our happiness, we hurt the people around us; all these as a price for our growing needs and desires.

That's the 99 club.

Stop worrying about the bearish stock market & enjoy your life.

Marriage

I am all very stories that support the institution of marriage. Here is one He Yan shared on SlideShare.

Marriage

View more presentations from He Yan.

Failure List of The Famous

Don't know if these are true stories but why care when they are so motivating.

=================================================================================
From My InBoxL

When you feel a little discouraged, just remember what these people accomplished when everyone else looked at them as failures. Believe in Yourself!



Einstein was 4 years old before he could speak.

Isaac Newton did poorly in grade school and was considered "unpromising."



When Thomas Edison was a youngster, his teacher told him he was too stupid to learn anything. He was counseled to go into a field where he might succeed by virtue of his pleasant personality.



F.W. Woolworth got a job in a dry goods store when he was 21, but his boss would not permit him to wait on customers because he "didn't have enough sense to close a sale."



Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.



Bob Cousy, a legendary Boston Celtic basketball player, suffered the same fate, but he too is a Hall of Famer.



A newspaper editor fired Walt Disney because he "lacked imagination and had no original ideas."



Winston Churchill failed 6th grade and had to repeat it because he did not complete the tests that were required for promotion.



Babe Ruth struck out 1,300 times, a major league record.



A person may make mistakes, but is not a failure until he or she starts blaming someone else. We must believe in ourselves, and somewhere along the road of life we will meet someone who sees greatness in us and lets us know it

Enjoy the coffee

From My InBox:

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor..

Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.

Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.

When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: 'If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones.. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eyeing each other's cups.

Now if life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but the quality of Life doesn't change. Some times, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee in it.'

Don't let the cups drive you.. Enjoy the coffee instead

What goes around

From My InBox:

One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help.

So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry.

He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was those chills which only fear can put in you.

He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough.

Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him.

Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.

Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, "And think of me."

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps.

The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair.

She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude.

The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door.

She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."

Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard....

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson."

There is an old saying "What goes around comes around." Today, I sent you this story and I'm asking you to pass it on... Let this light shine.

Don't delete it, don't return it. Simply, pass this on to a friend.

The three Gates Of Wisdoms.

Varoujshared another meaningful story on Slideshare.

The three Gates Of Wisdoms. Download (~ 60 seconds 15 Meg) for full affect viewing)

View more presentations from Varouj .

May dreams come true

Check out this story posted by Jatsoc on SlideShare.

A PORTUGUESE BARN

View SlideShare presentation or Upload your own. (tags: sorte luck)

Like this story? I discovered from Hoax Slayer that it is just someone's dream.

As I have said before, never believe everything you read in your emails or on the web. But don't let the truth stops you from dreaming like this though.

Beautiful story - Powerful.

From My InBox:

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75
cents in my pocket.

Their father was gone.

The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.

Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would
scramble to hide under their beds.

He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food
either.

If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I
certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best
homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a
job.

The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town.

No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to
convince who ever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had
to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an
old Root Beer Barrel drive-in t hat had been converted to a truck stop.

It was called the Big Wheel.

An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from
time to time at all those kids.

She needed someone on the grave yard shift, 11 at night until seven in the
morning.

She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people.

I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night.

She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep

This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.

That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked
God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home
with one dollar of my tip money - fully half of what I averaged every night.

As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage.

The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to
leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning
before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four
tires in the back seat. New tires!

There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires.

Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service station.

In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office.

I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do
the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough.

Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids.

I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys.
Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver
on Christmas morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys
pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.
There were the truckers, Les, Frank , and Jim , and a state trooper named Joe .

A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion andwere dropping
nickels in the pinball machine.

The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the
morning and then left to get home before the s un came up.

When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning,
to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of
all shapes and sizes.

I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the
front facing the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box.

Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10!

I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.

Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and
bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned
vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling
and flour. There was whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.

As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most
amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude.

And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious
morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out
at the Big Wheel truck stop....


THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:



1. 'Yes!'2. 'Not yet.' 3. 'I have something better in
mind.'



God still sits on the throne, the devil is a liar.


You may be going through a tough time right now but God is getting ready to
bless you in a way that you cannot imagine.


My instructions were to pick four people that I wanted God to bless,and I
picked you.


Please pass this to at least four people you want to be blessed and a copy back
to me.


This prayer is powerful, and prayer is one of the best gifts we receive. There
is no cost but a lot of rewards


Let's continue to pray for one another. Here is the prayer:....


Father, I ask You to bless my friends, relatives and email buddies reading this
right now. Show them a new revelation of Your love and power.Amen.

True friendship means a promise kept

From My InBox:

My wife called, 'How long will you be with that newspaper? Will you
come here and make your darling daughter eat her food?

I tossed the paper away and rushed to the scene. My only daughter,
Sindu, looked frightened; tears were welling up in her eyes. In front
of her was a bowl filled to its brim with curd rice. Sindu is a nice
child, quite intelligent for her age.

I cleared my throat and picked up the bowl. 'Sindu, darling, why don't
you take a few mouthful of this curd rice? Just for Dad's sake, dear'.

Sindu softened a bit and wiped her tears with the back of her hands.
'Ok, Dad. I will eat - not just a few mouthfuls, but the whole lot of
this. But, you should...' Sindu hesitated. 'Dad, if I eat this entire
curd Rice, will you give me whatver I ask for?'


'Promise'. I covered the pink soft hand extended by my daughter with
mine, and clinched the deal. Now I became a bit anxious. 'Sindu, dear,
you shouldn't insist on getting a computer or any such expensive
items. Dad does not have that kind of money right now. Ok?'

'No, Dad. I do not want anything expensive'. Slowly and painfully, she
finished eating the whole quantity. I was silently angry with my wife
and my mother for forcing my child to eat something that she detested.

After the ordeal was through, Sindu came to me with her eyes wide with
expectation. All our attention was on her.

'Dad, I want to have my head shaved off, this Sunday!' was her demand.

'Atrocious!' shouted my wife, 'A girl child having her head shaved
off? Impossible!'

'Never in our family!' My mother rasped. 'She has been watching too
much of television. Our culture is getting totally spoiled with these
TV programs!'

'Sindu, darling, why don't you ask for something else? We will be sad
seeing you with a clean-shaven head.'

'Please, Sindu, why don't you try to understand our feelings?' I tried
to plead with her.

'Dad, you saw how difficult it was for me to eat that Curd Rice'.
Sindu was in tears. 'And you promised to grant me whatever I ask for.
Now, you are going back on your words. Was it not you who told me the
story of King Harishchandra, and its moral that we should honor our
promises no matter what?'

It was time for me to call the shots. 'Our promise must be kept.'

'Are you out of your mind?' chorused my mother and wife.

'No. If we go back on ourpromises, she will never learn to honour her
own... Sindu, your wish will be fulfilled.'

With her head clean-shaven, Sindu had a round-face, and her eyes
looked big and beautiful.

On Monday morning, I dropped her at her school. It was a sight to
watch my hairless Sindu walking towards her classroom. She turned
around and waved. I waved back with a smile. Just then, a boy alighted
from a car, and shouted, 'Sinduja, please wait for me!' What struck me
was the hairless head of that boy. 'May be, that is the in-stuff', I
thought.

'Sir, your daughter Sinduja is great indeed!' Without introducing
herself, a lady got out of the car, and continued, 'that boy who is
walking along with your daughter is my son Harish. He is suffering
from... leukemia'. She paused to muffle her sobs. 'Harish could not
attend the school for the whole of the last month. He lost all his
hair due to the side effects of the chemotherapy. He refused to come
back to school fearing the unintentional but cruel teasing of the
schoolmates. Sinduja visited him last week, and promised him that she
will take care of the teasing issue. But, I never imagined she would
sacrifice her lovely hair for the sake of my son! Sir, you and your
wife are blessed to have such a noble soul as your daughter.'

I stood transfixed and then, I wept. 'My little Angel, you are
teaching me how selfless real love is!'

The happiest people on this planet are not those who live on their own
terms but are those who change their terms for the ones whom they
love...

--
God Bless


Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there.

Tomato Garden

> > An old Italian man lived alone in New Jersey . He

> > wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was

> > very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only

> > son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison.

> >

> > The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his

> > predicament:

> >

> > Dear Vincent,

> > I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't

> > be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just

> > getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if

> > you were here, my troubles would be over. I know you

> > would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old

> > days.

> > Love,Papa

> >

> > A few days later he received a letter from his son.

> > Dear Pop,

> > Don't dig up that garden. That's where

> > the bodies are buried.

> > Love, Vinnie

> >

> > At 4am the next morning, FBI agents and local

> > police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding

> > any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

> > That same day the old man received another letter from

> > his son.

> >

> > Dear Pop,

> > Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best

> > I could do under the circumstances.

> > Love you, Vinnie

Anxiety

If you are feeling anxious about the future of the next generation, what will you do about it? Prakash Tanksale draws and shares a tale to tell you how sharing your experiences will help.

Anxiety

View SlideShare presentation or Upload your own. (tags: anxiety lonely)

Thanks for sharing, Prakash. Birds of a feather do flock together.