tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74960674112656130742024-02-19T16:55:50.491+05:30AlfaFriends - MangloreFriendsAlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-81762063295149700032013-10-10T13:11:00.000+05:302013-10-10T13:18:54.873+05:30Gods Plans are Wonderful <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>- Gods Plans are Wonderful -</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834scF9ATmHlkMPRAjcXon5YDbIuRsB9iq9OlMK0hbWMsC7pRYycVTu1a7M0nOxjOIpExZjgmlm7jxAtIzU6JpHNMU41ifH7-6cnSvFW6hGNjX6wBJaTUbxLW_z5wcEQbeSFNNJSGJZ0/s1600/Gods_Plans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj834scF9ATmHlkMPRAjcXon5YDbIuRsB9iq9OlMK0hbWMsC7pRYycVTu1a7M0nOxjOIpExZjgmlm7jxAtIzU6JpHNMU41ifH7-6cnSvFW6hGNjX6wBJaTUbxLW_z5wcEQbeSFNNJSGJZ0/s400/Gods_Plans.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A very poor woman called a Christian radio station asking for help. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A bad, evil man who was listening to this radio program decided to make something out of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He got her address, called his secretary and ordered her to buy food and take to the woman with the following instruction.,-</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"when the woman asks who sent the food, tell her that its from the devil.''</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When she arrived, the woman was so happy and she started putting the food inside.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Secretary asked her, ''don't you want to know who sent the food''??</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The woman answered. ''<b>NO , it doesn't matter, because when GOD orders, even the devil obeys.</b>"</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>* READ this CAREFULLY*</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>You are a divine project, so shall God accomplish whatever that concerns you.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>That thing in your life that seems impossible, shall be possible.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>God will take you to a greater height, God is got perfect plans in your life because God Loves you.</b></span></div>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-67207799002347020652013-02-15T12:19:00.002+05:302013-02-15T12:28:03.522+05:30A Mother's Secret<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>A Mother's Secret</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was a beautiful young woman, just into her twenties. Happy, outgoing and extremely friendly, Kelly had no trouble making friends. She was little more than a year from completing college and her dream job would be awaiting when she finished. But now, for the first time in her life, things were in total disarray. Her boyfriend of several years had just broken off the relationship as he chose to take a job offer half way across the country. What he didn't know was that he would not only be leaving Kelly behind, but he would be leaving a daughter behind too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Weeks before her boyfriend moved away, Kelly suspected she was pregnant, but didn't want to further disrupt things by saying anything. She knew that while she had loved her boyfriend, they would both be able to move on to independently forge happy and successful lives. After having confirmed her suspicions about being pregnant she took some time to contemplate. She had met with several doctors and finally decided it would be best to quietly end the pregnancy. A few weeks later, after having researched her options, she went in for an abortion and came out assured that she had made the right choice.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhDP8ZlozPxHGu3sSTYzBqJ9b_ePLbp8mGzOxC3nQaF1Lqe-waZUxFMNRjrpmdCaDglVcGks915k3ZEXFM6h5GY3N777T6SECoJm4JEnHrZcKh3fyPFgp2fQIX0srO_ay7TYYVSKIZw8/s1600/A-Mother's-Secret.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhDP8ZlozPxHGu3sSTYzBqJ9b_ePLbp8mGzOxC3nQaF1Lqe-waZUxFMNRjrpmdCaDglVcGks915k3ZEXFM6h5GY3N777T6SECoJm4JEnHrZcKh3fyPFgp2fQIX0srO_ay7TYYVSKIZw8/s400/A-Mother's-Secret.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kelly eventually got married and did in fact build a happy family. No one ever knew her secret, but it was best that way. At times she did think about the past and the daughter she almost had, but for the most part, life was good to Kelly. This afternoon, things changed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kelly was on her way to pick up her two teenagers from school when her car was side-swiped by a semi-trailer. No seatbelt or airbag was a match for the blunt force that likely killed her instantly. Kelly's story doesn't end here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You see, 7 years ago Kelly had told friends and family that she had experienced something different during another mundane Sunday church service. She said for the first time she accepted what the Christian religion calls the "Gospel of Truth". Her acceptance of Jesus as her Savior and following repentance assured her that she would find herself in heaven when death came to her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, death found Kelly and she indeed stands before God in heaven. It is her judgment day - a day in which we all must face God and answer to Him for our life on earth. For the first time, Kelly will look up and see the face of God the Father, with Jesus Christ sitting at his right hand side. At that moment, she will notice the face of an innocent young child who is sitting on Christ's knee. Kelly's secret was never truly hidden, and now her own daughter asks - "Why did you kill me mommy? Why didn't you choose to love and accept me the way God loves and accepts you?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know how Kelly responded to that piercing question. I can only imagine the surprise that baby girls' father will have when he dies and meets the daughter he never knew he had...!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>(Relationships are not a game its Gods Gift - Value Relations, Live a Good and Satisfactory Life)</b></span></div>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-26287917029325363132012-06-04T12:10:00.000+05:302012-06-04T12:11:27.528+05:30True Love is an Acceptance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="color: #4c1130;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"True Love is an Acceptance "</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pFNNKw-lF2ogDabKWjPxf1shsX_xg0lABKsnyuFn0nfCB7B9hc9u7hvrwMAjat9LYhi6uwKQFIYI_kA1iWDvolK1gQEox4k3jSbZ2LoWai_oOAAXcpUjqmVImsFJU3NjYNiNbB6DJxE/s1600/old_man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pFNNKw-lF2ogDabKWjPxf1shsX_xg0lABKsnyuFn0nfCB7B9hc9u7hvrwMAjat9LYhi6uwKQFIYI_kA1iWDvolK1gQEox4k3jSbZ2LoWai_oOAAXcpUjqmVImsFJU3NjYNiNbB6DJxE/s400/old_man.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a busy morning, approximately 08:30 am, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9 am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking repeatedly at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On examination, it was well-healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his stitches and redressed his wound. While taking care of his wound, we began to engage in conversation. I asked him if he had an important appointment that morning, as he seemed to be in such a hurry.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The gentleman told me no; that he only needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while already and that she was a victim of Alzheimer Disease.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we talked, and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was; that she had not recognized him for five years now. I was surprised, and asked him. "And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He smiled as he patted my hand and said: "<b>She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is</b>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to hold back my tears as he left. I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought: "That is the kind of love I want in my life."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>" True love is like an eternal flame...It will continue to burn for all eternity."</b></span></div>
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</div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-51605848015816323642012-05-29T16:02:00.000+05:302013-02-15T12:29:00.233+05:30Eight Lies Of A Mother<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eight Lies Of A Mother</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGBtShItHoD_xIy15wdTVlxZCHqZjbcpKGLi2W0-Ltm3gqdifV1B__8u6p88quWbdRMyQxQ-JV3lxFnHFuK1TDQ9IwHN1KkUcI-57jLEwC6KwJan4px_h5WSpFB1rM6xwByKmkfTbu7JI/s1600/mother-care1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGBtShItHoD_xIy15wdTVlxZCHqZjbcpKGLi2W0-Ltm3gqdifV1B__8u6p88quWbdRMyQxQ-JV3lxFnHFuK1TDQ9IwHN1KkUcI-57jLEwC6KwJan4px_h5WSpFB1rM6xwByKmkfTbu7JI/s400/mother-care1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This story begins when I was a child: I was born poor. Often we hadn’t enough to eat. Whenever we had some food, Mother often gave me her portion of rice. While she was transferring her rice into my bowl, she would say “Eat this rice, son! I’m not hungry.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Mother’s First Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I grew, Mother gave up her spare time to fish in a river near our house; she hoped that from the fish she caught, she could give me a little bit more nutritious food for my growth. Once she had caught just two fish, she would make fish soup. While I was eating the soup, mother would sit beside me and eat the what was still left on the bone of the fish I had eaten, My heart was touched when I saw it. Once I gave the other fish to her on my chopstick but she immediately refused it and said, “Eat this fish, son! I don’t really like fish.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Mother’s Second Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, in order to fund my education, Mother went to a Match Factory to bring home some used matchboxes, which she filled with fresh matchsticks. This helped her get some money to cover our needs. One wintry night I awoke to find Mother filling the matchboxes by candlelight. So I said, “Mother, go to sleep; it’s late: you can continue working tomorrow morning.” Mother smiled and said “Go to sleep, son! I’m not tired.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Mother’s Third Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I had to sit my Final Examination, Mother accompanied me. After dawn, Mother waited for me for hours in the heat of the sun. When the bell rang, I ran to meet her.. Mother embraced me and poured me a glass of tea that she had prepared in a thermos. The tea was not as strong as my Mother’s love, Seeing Mother covered with perspiration, I at once gave her my glass and asked her to drink too. Mother said “Drink, son! I’m not thirsty!”.</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Mother’s Fourth Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After Father’s death, Mother had to play the role of a single parent. She held on to her former job; she had to fund our needs alone. Our family’s life was more complicated. We suffered from starvation. Seeing our family’s condition worsening, my kind Uncle who lived near my house came to help us solve our problems big and small. Our other neighbors saw that we were poverty stricken so they often advised my mother to marry again. But Mother refused to remarry saying “I don’t need love.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was Mother’s Fifth Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After I had finished my studies and gotten a job, it was time for my old Mother to retire but she carried on going to the market every morning just to sell a few vegetables. I kept sending her money but she was steadfast and even sent the money back to me. She said, “I have enough money.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was Mother’s Sixth Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I continued my part-time studies for my Master’s Degree. Funded by the American Corporation for which I worked, I succeeded in my studies. With a big jump in my salary, I decided to bring Mother to enjoy life in America but Mother didn’t want to bother her son; she said to me “I’m not used to high living.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was Mother’s Seventh Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In her dotage, Mother was attacked by cancer and had to be hospitalized. Now living far across the ocean, I went home to visit Mother who was bedridden after an operation. Mother tried to smile but I was heartbroken because she was so thin and feeble but Mother said, “Don’t cry, son! I’m not in pain.”</span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was Mother’s Eighth Lie.</b><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Telling me this, her eighth lie, she died. YES, MOTHER WAS AN ANGEL!</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp1iwYCFUE8aTAz2B-SyHc5z3VNVgVtbVNb8Sgf4A3MipFRP-qH4t0f3Dkhk8fsFPT9pzdxx59gl3oEckKT3OYoJLBpgtUDh1vo6adIeK_exj0rMO9rTfLn4GwDQQANQ6JG559aLyTDUY/s1600/mother-care2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp1iwYCFUE8aTAz2B-SyHc5z3VNVgVtbVNb8Sgf4A3MipFRP-qH4t0f3Dkhk8fsFPT9pzdxx59gl3oEckKT3OYoJLBpgtUDh1vo6adIeK_exj0rMO9rTfLn4GwDQQANQ6JG559aLyTDUY/s320/mother-care2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">M – O – T – H – E – R</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“<b>M</b>” is for the Million things she gave me,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">O</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">” means Only that she’s growing old,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">” is for the Tears she shed to save me,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">H</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">” is for her Heart of gold,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">” is for her Eyes with love-light shining in them,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">R</b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">” means Right, and right she’ll always be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Put them all together, they spell “MOTHER” a word that means the world to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For those of you who are lucky to be still blessed with your Mom’s presence on Earth, this story is beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For those who aren’t so blessed, this is even more beautiful.</span><br />
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-42124037181104232852011-12-27T23:42:00.006+05:302013-02-15T12:29:45.975+05:30A poor boy loved a rich girl..!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>A poor boy loved a rich girl..!</b></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VVdGqjU_8cGmz25ZCIYYcft-rSyU_n6ZfuiPxRmWC-O0oYSkhBqhqcojRpbKDu6I5OKo1r00Sod50U_dQZrKFJbTT_cc6KageH1ikXRxLrP1gzSWnePLLP1LwgY5PuQt31HrOIAZGdI/s1600/poor+boy.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690872926176642850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VVdGqjU_8cGmz25ZCIYYcft-rSyU_n6ZfuiPxRmWC-O0oYSkhBqhqcojRpbKDu6I5OKo1r00Sod50U_dQZrKFJbTT_cc6KageH1ikXRxLrP1gzSWnePLLP1LwgY5PuQt31HrOIAZGdI/s400/poor+boy.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 341px;" /></a><br />
<b></b><br />
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<b>A poor boy loved a rich girl.</b></div>
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<b>One day the boy proposed her.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Then the girl said, “listen! your monthly salary is my daily hand expenses. Should I be involved with you? How could you thought that? I will never love you. So, forget me ‘n get engaged with someone else of your level.”</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>But somehow the boy could not forget her so easily.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>10 years later. </b></div>
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<b>One day they became face to face in a shopping center.The lady said, “Hey! you! How are you? Now I’m married. Do you know how much is my husband’s salary? Rs. 2 lac per month! Can you imagine? ‘n he is also very smart.”</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>The guy’s eyes got wet with tear by hearing those words.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>After few minutes her husband came before the lady could say something to the guy, her husband started to say by seeing the guy. “Sir! You here? Meet my wife.” Then he said to her wife, “I’m going to assist a project of sir, which is of Rs. 200 crore. and do you know a fact? Sir loved a girl but he didn’t get her. That’s why still he is unmarried. How much lucky the girl was. Isn’t it? Now a days who can love like that way?”</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: red;">Moral:</span> Life is not so short.So, don’t be so proud of yourself and damn others. Situations change with time.Every one should respect other’s love.</b></div>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-2225638666540206502011-09-21T09:41:00.006+05:302013-02-15T12:32:07.715+05:30Parable of the Turtle Picnic<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="style4"><strong>A turtle family went on a picnic.. The turtles, being naturally slow about things, took seven years to prepare for their outings.Finally the turtle family left home looking for a suitable place. During the second year of their journey they found it. For about six months they cleaned up the area, unpacked the picnic basket, and completed the arrangements.
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<span class="style4"><strong>Then they discovered the had forgotten the salt. A picnic without salt would be a disaster, they all agreed. After a lengthy discussion, the youngest turtle was chosen to retrieve the salt from home.</strong></span></div>
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<div class="style5">
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<span class="style4"><strong>Although he was the fastest of the slow moving turtles, the little turtle whined, cried, and wobbled in his shell. He agreed to go on one condition: that no one would eat until he returned. The family consented and the little turtle left.</strong></span></div>
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<span class="style4"><strong>Three years passed-- and the little turtle had not returned. Five years...six years.. then in the seventh year of his absence, the oldest turtle could no longer contain his hunger. He announced that he was going to eat and began to unwrap a sandwich.</strong></span></div>
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<div class="style5">
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<span class="style4"><strong>At that point the little turtle suddenly popped out from behind a tree shouting, "SEE I knew you wouldn't wait. Now I am not going to go get the salt."</strong></span></div>
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<span class="style4"><span class="Apple-style-span">
<br /><span class="style6">The Moral Is...</span>
<br />
<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><strong>Some of us waste our lives waiting for people to live up to our expectations of them. We are so concerned about what others are doing that we don't do anything ourselves.</strong></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="style4"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>
</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="style4"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">===============================</span>
</b></span></span>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-44633924806301616182011-03-28T15:52:00.006+05:302013-02-15T12:32:39.712+05:30THE KISS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><b><u><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span style1">THE KISS</span></span></u></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span style2">She is pregnant. He had just saved her from </span></span></b><span class="style2"><b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">a fire in her house, rescuing her by carrying her out of the house into her front yard, while he continued to fight the fire. When he finally got done putting the fire out, he sat down to catch his breath and rest.</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span">A photographer from a North Carolina newspaper, noticed h</span></span></b><span class="style6" style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">er in the distance looking at the fireman. He saw her walking straight toward the fireman and wondered what she was going to do. As he raised his camera, she came up to the tired man who had saved her life and the lives of her babies and kissed him just as the photographer snapped this photograph.
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<b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></o:p></span></b></div>
<a href="http://alfafriends.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"> <img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589078588780553090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRF6vCTajQ-vrh8N6fbsY_apt0v-vzInueVPRGFGrUZ8oroBmRhjjuwC0bnpMjiHqUNc-N_xab67PpfqajQtCEGuZRLmxLJdt55oNFtn6hVvpweZa3yHUFmIm6eUUehiwC1Wd25ZTYJD4/s400/fireman-dog-+the+kiss.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 290px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><u><span class="style4" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The Kiss</span></u></b> </span><span class="style5"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And people say animals are dumb.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">"</span><span class="Apple-style-span">An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language</span><span class="Apple-style-span">."</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></b></span>===============================</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-50782345020117171822011-03-17T10:31:00.007+05:302013-02-15T12:35:23.997+05:30Relationships are like Trees.!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong></strong></span></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><strong><b><span style="color: #8000ff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Relationships are like trees. Now what does this mean?</span></b></strong></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwyTo6aXjOBJ_BOUJjGLDL5jdLFwa0oXv783sHEaswkJW4-uHYZDtAENtug_Js06C189B2UvICPNI7kMjQWIEdV23oJ7OV9odQ-nLWcTGeG02u0fuQQAQkgHvK0bQfxDl8UCnBzELUmI/s1600/alfa2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584910789741985650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwyTo6aXjOBJ_BOUJjGLDL5jdLFwa0oXv783sHEaswkJW4-uHYZDtAENtug_Js06C189B2UvICPNI7kMjQWIEdV23oJ7OV9odQ-nLWcTGeG02u0fuQQAQkgHvK0bQfxDl8UCnBzELUmI/s400/alfa2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 305px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.4pt;"><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Have you ever been to any orchard? I am sure we all have seen at least a few of them like orange, mango, cashew, coconut, chiku and many more. Did you notice friends, how these trees are planted? There is always a gap between any two grown up trees. Every tree needs some space to grow properly. It needs the right amount of light, soil, water, mineral and loving hands of a farmer. When all these needs are being taken care of well then only the tree grows the way the farmer wants it to be.</span></b><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.4pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.4pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></b><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.4pt;"><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Similarly, all relationships too need some space to grow. They also need right amount of all ingredients including love and affection to take a proper shape, any relationship is like the four pillars of a temple. They are together, but they can’t come very close to each other and if they do so, the walls of the temple would fall off, it would collapse. So friends, all relationships need a proper space to grow!<br /><br />A tree is planted today but bears fruits only after a particular period, when it reaches maturity.<br /><br />Similarly, our relationships also bear fruits at a later date. We shouldn't expect anything right from the beginning.<br /><br />Big trees give shelter to all passersby without any expectations. And I have noticed that true, matured relationships too provide mental, emotional and physical shelter (support) to all.<br /><br />Deeper the roots, stronger the hold of a tree. Similarly deeper the understanding, stronger the relationship.<br /><br />When the winds are blowing harsh, the trees sway in the direction of wind and only those who do so, survive. Others are uprooted. Similarly, there are occasions when we just need to overlook a few things, just let them go, just flow with the wind. Only such relationships pass the test of hard times and survive even in not so favorable conditions.</span></b><b style="font-weight: bold; line-height: 14.4pt;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: 800;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5tCwaBHuXocFjQfpGn5ihBfptLjrgt5Kr9rtk-sj68ha_5uDfy8V8QnHMYr3TPkAjWwZtyZj6EdZU1srhD3vEmPlZm7ySmaHzkBHIVurQDFyIyfdGn3QB0giL6iFoflYdpb_BUl_hXo/s1600/alfa1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584910650105615858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5tCwaBHuXocFjQfpGn5ihBfptLjrgt5Kr9rtk-sj68ha_5uDfy8V8QnHMYr3TPkAjWwZtyZj6EdZU1srhD3vEmPlZm7ySmaHzkBHIVurQDFyIyfdGn3QB0giL6iFoflYdpb_BUl_hXo/s400/alfa1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><strong></strong><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;"><b style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Thus friends! Relationships are like trees, if nurtured with utmost love and care, will bear sweet fruits of love, compassion, strong emotional bonding and care.</span></b></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;"><b style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></b></span></strong></div>
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;"><b style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span">=============================</span></span></b></span></strong></div>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-23468281223288470612010-12-16T10:35:00.003+05:302013-02-15T12:36:32.145+05:30Pencil & Eraser ( Touching Story )<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #000099; font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">Pencil & Eraser ( Touching Story )</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://alfafriends.blogspot.com/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551143098533896082" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUu99f0pM1jVjFz86l2-nzfe7QgSvqg0wV9J9o69nd9UWlhQGfDsi5Kt7RAv1OGsY_6RgKAkNEzU4F11OfxpVzQwENRp1MlP3ib8IK6cDAvj63fZ2nLlkz6DBiJ9Rp9P4-fkXuW7NeHLE/s400/pencileraser.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #660000;">Pencil:</span> I'm sorry</span> <span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="color: #000066;">Eraser:</span> For what? You didn't do anything wrong.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #660000;">Pencil:</span> I'm sorry because you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.</span> <span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><span style="color: #000066;">Eraser:</span> That's true. But I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I'll be gone and you'll replace me with a new one, I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #000099; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">I found this conversation between the pencil and the eraser very inspirational. Parents are like the eraser whereas their children are the pencil. They're always there for their children, cleaning up their mistakes. Sometimes along the way, they get hurt, and become smaller / older, and eventually pass on. Though their children will eventually find someone new (spouse), but parents are still happy with what they do for their children, and will always hate seeing their precious ones worrying, or sad.</span> <span style="color: #000099; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">All my life, I've been the pencil. And it pains me to see the eraser that is my parents getting smaller and smaller each day. For I know that one day, all that I'm left with would be eraser shavings and memories of what I used to have.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;">“We never know the love of our parents for us till we have become parents.”</span><br />
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-61281095419336265702010-07-18T12:02:00.004+05:302013-02-15T12:37:10.449+05:30Happiness Comes from Giving<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #000066; font-family: "; font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold;">Happiness Comes from Giving</span><span style="color: #000066; font-size: 130%;">
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">This story is about a beautiful, expensively dressed lady who complained to her psychiatrist that she felt that her whole life was empty, it had no meaning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_yEq7Vdxg2ePgUD5Gsh5avnsk3O-1DElLDJwr6jkXbDcKkdRGP-k5FeQtdjpNICRDrf6ZkoVNvqqne_vuznNtglI5fcxfbjbijv2qlZEbVxEq1EhKf-K3ls9SgZm7avQn2mM6fAOap0/s1600/1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495134435093617922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_yEq7Vdxg2ePgUD5Gsh5avnsk3O-1DElLDJwr6jkXbDcKkdRGP-k5FeQtdjpNICRDrf6ZkoVNvqqne_vuznNtglI5fcxfbjbijv2qlZEbVxEq1EhKf-K3ls9SgZm7avQn2mM6fAOap0/s400/1.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; height: 309px; width: 400px;" /></a></span>
<br /><span style="font-size: 100%;">So, the lady went to visit a counselor to seek out happiness. The counselor called over the old lady who cleaned the office floors.0 The counselor then said to the rich lady"I'm going to ask Mary here to tell you how she found happiness. All I want you to do is listen to her."</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BWc7HfQqhXcPESJll7DOOLNhZOuDK5Pc8yvH47htXdbGMUJ9phB4OqLRex45DjJL1mtdUAV1eoqt_yv3lnpAgRBnd5VuK4puTlBDn6oSpxoM8lX1E4w3kNc0Z3Dn75POTPgxacA8k5w/s1600/2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495135512641800978" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BWc7HfQqhXcPESJll7DOOLNhZOuDK5Pc8yvH47htXdbGMUJ9phB4OqLRex45DjJL1mtdUAV1eoqt_yv3lnpAgRBnd5VuK4puTlBDn6oSpxoM8lX1E4w3kNc0Z3Dn75POTPgxacA8k5w/s400/2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 300px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 100%;">So the old lady put down her broom and sat on a chair and told her story:</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> "Well, my husband died of malaria and three months later my only son was killed by a car. I had nobody... I had nothing left. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I never smiled at anyone, I even thought of taking my own life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> Then one evening a little kitten followed me home from work.</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Somehow I felt sorry for that kitten. It was cold outside, so I decided to let the kitten in. I got it some milk, and the kitten licked the plate clean.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> Then it purred and rubbed against my leg and for the first time in months,</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">I smiled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> Then I stopped to think, if helping a little kitten could make me smile, maybe doing something for people could make me happy. So the next day I baked some biscuits and took them to a neighbor who was sick in bed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;"> Every day I tried to do something nice for someone. </span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span> <span style="font-size: 100%;">It made me so happy to see them happy.
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Today, I don't know of anybody who sleeps and eats better than I do.</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">I've found happiness, by giving it to others."</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-size: 100%;">When she heard that the rich lady cried. She had everything that money could buy, but</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #330033; font-family: "; font-size: 100%;"> she had lost the things which money cannot buy.</span><span style="color: #330033; font-family: "; font-size: 100%;"><o:p></o:p></span> <span style="color: #002060; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
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<span class="body" style="color: red; font-family: georgia; font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: #6600cc;">++ </span> Giving is true having.<span style="color: #6600cc;"> ++ </span></span> </div>
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<br /><span class="body"><span style="font-weight: bold;">= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =</span>
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AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-11929411121881376522010-01-19T14:10:00.003+05:302010-01-19T14:34:23.446+05:30BURNT BISCUIT STORY<div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"><strong>BURNT BISCUIT STORY</strong></span><br /></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPuVB2F5bTILxIqo-niH7DXMGunr4hyM4fasyMaCCGhmTr__e7RixQYTzyuTn3ZCV_aMWJOTbO2orvLgA-tZecK8tdpkRdXvMg3PCPSR5erQrWhG8A-H-K_cACoNrJCRCNCKCmW2ZRcs/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428372856678453874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPuVB2F5bTILxIqo-niH7DXMGunr4hyM4fasyMaCCGhmTr__e7RixQYTzyuTn3ZCV_aMWJOTbO2orvLgA-tZecK8tdpkRdXvMg3PCPSR5erQrWhG8A-H-K_cACoNrJCRCNCKCmW2ZRcs/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>When I was a kid, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.<br />*On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that<br />biscuit and eat every bite!<br /><br />When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits."<br /><br />Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides - a little burnt biscuit never hurt anyone!"</strong></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#000066;">Life is full of imperfect things.....and imperfect people. I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. But what I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each others faults - and choosing to celebrate each others differences - is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.<br /></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>And that's my prayer for you today. That you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your life and lay them at the feet of God. Because in the end, He's the only One who will be able to give you a relationship where a burnt biscuit isn't a deal-breaker!</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#993300;"><strong>We could extend this to any relationship. In fact, understanding is the base of any relationship, be it a husband-wife or parent-child or brother-sister or friendship!<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"><strong>"Don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket - keep it in your own."</strong></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">So Please pass me a biscuit, and yes, the burnt one will do just<br />fine.!.!.!.! And PLEASE pass this along to someone who has enriched your life... I just did!*</span></strong> </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;">=========================================</span></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-57527620333330582692010-01-12T00:50:00.000+05:302010-01-12T12:57:01.297+05:30LAW OF SEEDS<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;">LAW OF SEEDS<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425730265764815362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirtvVJw3Ovlghxr23jkudrpseEMJ3yVtTsepG11t5HndIDYcbscBxCMg79SbVGuTz3-8FtDRsw2eGpr_cDcCV0-zK4BFy1kZCr6O0Q7EFY4z2CD-A3yjcfeOS0oAmrIOREHglDvEGPKM/s400/seed.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="left"></span></strong><strong>Take a look at an apple tree. There might be five hundred apples on the Tree, each with ten seeds. That's a lot of seeds! </strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>We might ask, "Why would you need so many seeds to grow just a few more Trees?"<br /><br />Nature has something to teach us here. It's telling us: "<span style="color:#6600cc;">Most seeds never Grow. So if you really want to make something happen, you better try More than once.</span>"</strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>This might mean:</strong></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="color:#000066;">You'll attend twenty interviews to get one job.<br /></span><span style="color:#663366;">You'll interview forty people to find one good employee.</span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">You'll talk to fifty people to sell one house, car, vacuum Cleaner, insurance policy, idea...<br /></span><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="color:#330099;">And you might meet a hundred acquaintances to find one special friend.</span> </span></span></strong></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><br /><span style="color:#660000;">When we understand the "<span style="color:#ff0000;">Law of the Seed</span>", we don't get so disappointed.<br />We stop feeling like victims. Laws of nature are not things to take personally.<br />We just need to understand them - and work with them.</span></strong> </span></div><p align="left">======================</p></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-78558037041923901232010-01-11T12:28:00.000+05:302010-01-12T12:58:15.139+05:30Touching Story of Selfish Man<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;">Touching story of selfish Man</span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;">The Boy & the Apple Tree</span></strong></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByHjrx4PGI8oSH5ywkDdNAbRp1C1-lZMQOdVCk_k0kBQDdalW6xkIf0mFUlHNrK81FXmrxa0yYDMLKSWqbsDC_RqHpA1inYhnxv4ce8yfBYzv6-rgPF443rx8YkcNUl6YWbVf_-Jh0A0/s1600-h/image001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425746185791213058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 297px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByHjrx4PGI8oSH5ywkDdNAbRp1C1-lZMQOdVCk_k0kBQDdalW6xkIf0mFUlHNrK81FXmrxa0yYDMLKSWqbsDC_RqHpA1inYhnxv4ce8yfBYzv6-rgPF443rx8YkcNUl6YWbVf_-Jh0A0/s400/image001.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8yafpOB0AAu-k3ZHSCZqTZhevZ_W_cwi-QURLgUwlM54FFz9xdIsoS9Kxb9m55mXi2T08upVHMoqmQDUQQgHtHgKjBLG2zvPHN8vCF6tHnUDGcOdfFYyU904hEO5ybgxyJDOGQqmhiI/s1600-h/image002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425746182266613730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8yafpOB0AAu-k3ZHSCZqTZhevZ_W_cwi-QURLgUwlM54FFz9xdIsoS9Kxb9m55mXi2T08upVHMoqmQDUQQgHtHgKjBLG2zvPHN8vCF6tHnUDGcOdfFYyU904hEO5ybgxyJDOGQqmhiI/s400/image002.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO6T13N8AQcwdqMTyVYxwdON18K3q7TPEky0762bRN7cK6XKyUSR3X8TWGGW17V_N7lkr0TdY_resg_ws5bnYDg2FmzIQgdteoeGTm9EJ38Jfk47nGzEx6R7KUyyYdE2g0TUCpl64644/s1600-h/image003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425746175685674642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO6T13N8AQcwdqMTyVYxwdON18K3q7TPEky0762bRN7cK6XKyUSR3X8TWGGW17V_N7lkr0TdY_resg_ws5bnYDg2FmzIQgdteoeGTm9EJ38Jfk47nGzEx6R7KUyyYdE2g0TUCpl64644/s400/image003.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh538sN_mkhMJcF7ENe4DqIH82KZrM2wPhUTMhLF2mmk1OoM1uIl3kjATdQbR9JMRHvsD20ZLN3SCSejd_gKb33buc4jxtU864SoUWL-0tto36F6GVAXeqNaTWCwwcOaKe4RISgRCE7eUQ/s1600-h/image004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425746168317578994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh538sN_mkhMJcF7ENe4DqIH82KZrM2wPhUTMhLF2mmk1OoM1uIl3kjATdQbR9JMRHvsD20ZLN3SCSejd_gKb33buc4jxtU864SoUWL-0tto36F6GVAXeqNaTWCwwcOaKe4RISgRCE7eUQ/s400/image004.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uLyxfGdrkdip_gsZxNX0SU8NnuOU9eJwHB4KQK_yBfGV5cvOxCijELX_vAbQGRpG8bc3j3kOCJiAYcKJ4G4H5S4d2LIwFLz3kwj6PQ0kJHAIzT9y3heQig-SQS-zOmHR328U6RkupsE/s1600-h/image005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425746161994428850" style="DISPLAY: block; 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MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYq_m2xi9Ub5-C1ns83ymLHxLIQDxlo3n0JDJu78RHaO_YS7lb9U7JyyQKipMJVY5gYy_w369JFNRW07YowMsr4IE9VcQKxnXgnYkHG1BwMqPSeFI7uF6eCiK_HpQIHGkVwsCtZv-GxjA/s400/image021.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyNWiL7iS7DaONfgZEt3RXpfbYkhX0UPoLpmki30x-ixIzHuLnssWElXVHMf4XjtR3aw0kB7CWfkSZbr7GTwHK571h3PZauZxIbBTrqHJPbH7gsaGS9t_8Q8257rAopdKADaFE41PbLk/s1600-h/image022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425745407953749122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyNWiL7iS7DaONfgZEt3RXpfbYkhX0UPoLpmki30x-ixIzHuLnssWElXVHMf4XjtR3aw0kB7CWfkSZbr7GTwHK571h3PZauZxIbBTrqHJPbH7gsaGS9t_8Q8257rAopdKADaFE41PbLk/s400/image022.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14y2wD2nBKB5-vJzqn_wYW8Dn4rTsF5GZPLxUZuf7vl0s3C6GLa9O3r7CUz86_LhXylAzoDyr4WtLOCuQBSGxYIbIkLSr8gdKryBIU5boscAYffiamXjYcMxp33CZpghhw5-_UBrkw_U/s1600-h/image023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425745403536122482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14y2wD2nBKB5-vJzqn_wYW8Dn4rTsF5GZPLxUZuf7vl0s3C6GLa9O3r7CUz86_LhXylAzoDyr4WtLOCuQBSGxYIbIkLSr8gdKryBIU5boscAYffiamXjYcMxp33CZpghhw5-_UBrkw_U/s400/image023.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkPTnSCM4BA-9zir3uR5HNraSuJwZdZ7qDoAfkBClf8XLPdXvfdnM6Psqr9akzjpQXTV_lKJmxFIlafDoU4sqXOUOtKso6o5yX8seKq-e7YdZpxVg6zMP-4ydMR7KYHS8AsSbSXN_PKw/s1600-h/image024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425745399697738658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvkPTnSCM4BA-9zir3uR5HNraSuJwZdZ7qDoAfkBClf8XLPdXvfdnM6Psqr9akzjpQXTV_lKJmxFIlafDoU4sqXOUOtKso6o5yX8seKq-e7YdZpxVg6zMP-4ydMR7KYHS8AsSbSXN_PKw/s400/image024.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425748321195198050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLVYhC1uANx_2FOlDgdwSVFNtjjIME7_j4ovU5XN5wOhrZGDp4ReRCdf4rt56mn5KIkyp-OSgaj8jRb1ks5Y03ctg8lDLD93cpR9hRR-V-L4McaC7LCxAVDjonjQE724bbFa9rkNPdU4/s400/image025.jpg" border="0" /> <div></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5k0IlQheZWinCknXlleB1cUga_uO3QUerNWvH_06woc4yOqOj94WOTlhMgzgT285ur4evC_z9sbpMTUy0XrsfcnfQfatPxfuWQX85kKdqevPYayXll05wLJnp5G1ExHOEwyregkQhoE/s1600-h/image026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425744930751932946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn5k0IlQheZWinCknXlleB1cUga_uO3QUerNWvH_06woc4yOqOj94WOTlhMgzgT285ur4evC_z9sbpMTUy0XrsfcnfQfatPxfuWQX85kKdqevPYayXll05wLJnp5G1ExHOEwyregkQhoE/s400/image026.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">Everybody has an apple tree in his life.<br />And its your Parents !!!</span></strong><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425744924590553826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwSn8svHg8dTkDxoGpwP9Ao_eypQXrVhSqyfC79TcglGpSolYavyqfnlZllL2c4KqT1wH_uuUbUCBI32hoKk7696Il0P-fHFEUhw7odxcLLbQ_ygG66akEQBPzPfHTzbx5R8vrdag_c8A/s400/image027.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="left">=====================================</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-36347017582245791262010-01-11T11:32:00.003+05:302010-01-11T11:36:30.256+05:30Sharpening our skills - KEY 2 SUCCESS<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;">Sharpening our skills - KEY 2 SUCCESS</span></strong><br /></div></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425359145638890130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDtt1c7LbyItCnPZIYcYZ-loGWRFk3rjkm6uXYlZHj0vYEUIgzkRs3aJP25ECByD2E3db_Ahrbku0iHsPL0JP_DAAI76pAk19bgASp7JOHyGjLAHHS3_4zWaw98owgvjSHF5Gc3wHRn2w/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"><span style="color:#000066;">Once upon a time a very strong woodcutter asked for a job in a timber merchant, and he got it. His salary was really good and so were the working conditions. For that reason, the woodcutter was determined to do his best.<br /><br />His boss gave him an axe and showed him the area where he was supposed to fell the trees.<br /></span></p></span><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#000066;">The First day, the woodcutter brought 15 trees.<br />“Congratulations,” the boss said. “Carry on with your work!”<br /><br />Highly motivated by the words of his boss, the woodcutter tried harder the next day, but he only could bring 10 trees. The third day he tried even harder, but he was only able to bring 7 trees. Day after day he was bringing less and less trees.<br />“I must be losing my strength”, the woodcutter thought. He went to the boss and apologized, saying that he could not understand what was going on.<br /><br />“When was the last time you sharpened your axe?” the Boss asked.<br />“Sharpen? I had no time to sharpen my axe. I have been very busy trying to cut trees…”</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Most of us NEVER update our skills. We think that whatever we have learned is very much enough. But good is not good when better is expected.<br /></span><span style="color:#3333ff;">Sharpening our skills from time to time is the key to success.</span></strong> </span></div><div align="justify">===============================</div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-60716372190202622592010-01-09T10:10:00.003+05:302010-01-09T10:36:36.780+05:30ECO OF LIFE<div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong><span style="color:#000066;"></span></strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>ECO OF LIFE</strong></span></span><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">A man and his son were walking in the forest. Suddenly the boy trips and feeling a sharp pain he screams, “Ahhhhh.”<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjjFYK8tHZNzC7_LJOUpklF3PBDAqIO42tQc-SyaZ84igrixLibsEahbhKct4FuowWoEpJR7NNPmK3Vat5ikTkoWT31pHOl6GdqO7GJ7oo-vkn8pNuAfjzFdbSHx_Cvl92RNcYFB9XC8/s1600-h/1.jpg"><span style="color:#6600cc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424597722715816978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjjFYK8tHZNzC7_LJOUpklF3PBDAqIO42tQc-SyaZ84igrixLibsEahbhKct4FuowWoEpJR7NNPmK3Vat5ikTkoWT31pHOl6GdqO7GJ7oo-vkn8pNuAfjzFdbSHx_Cvl92RNcYFB9XC8/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#6600cc;">Surprised, he hears a voice coming from the mountain, “Ahhhhh.”<br /><br />Filled with curiosity, he screams, “Who are you?” but the only answer he receives is: “Who are you?”<br /><br />This makes him angry, so he screams, “You are a coward!” and the voice answers, “You are a coward!”<br /><br />He looks at his father asking, “Dad, what is going on?”<br /><br />“Son,” he replies, “pay attention!” Then he screams, “I admire you!”<br /><br />The voice answers, “I admire you!”<br /><br />The father shouts, “You are wonderful!” and the voice answers, “You are wonderful!”<br /><br />The boy is surprised, but still can’t understand what is going on.<br /><br />Then the father explains, “People call this ‘ECHO’ but truly it is ‘LIFE!’ Life always gives you back what you give out! Life is a mirror of your actions. If you want more love, give more love!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">If you want more kindness, give more kindness! If you want understanding and respect, give understanding and respect. If you want people to be patient and respectful to you, give patience and respect! This rule of nature applies to every aspect of our lives.”</span> </strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">Life always gives you back what you give out. Your life is not a coincidence, but a mirror of your own doings.</span></strong> </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;">============================</span></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-84761114940945700422010-01-08T10:56:00.007+05:302010-01-09T10:39:59.197+05:30The Story of the Three Trees<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;">The Story of the Three Trees</span></strong><br /></div><div align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424238806822822946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_tN-4EWR-rjcsjL7amev5_1WuWpXjgQ5FxJDnczJhtUB7Zfi-qBV5QQP1oNpeh5EleDHa8q57xERpNptVTPm-F1KMHbvMfIH5dN4NiPTdE0JQrCEO3vQ_gi3JZ2RiwSTwPxl5rY98_mg/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods.</strong><br /></span></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#660000;">They were discussing their hopes and dreams whenthe first tree said, <span style="color:#cc6600;">'Someday I hope to be a great treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silverand precious gems. I could be decorated with anintricate carving and everyone would see the beauty.</span>'</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">Then the second tree said, <span style="color:#993300;">'</span><span style="color:#cc6600;">Someday I will be amighty ship. I will take Kings and Queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. People will feel safe in me because of the strength of my Hull.</span>'<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#660000;">Finally the third tree said, <span style="color:#cc6600;">'I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest Tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill, look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me.</span>'</span><br /><br />After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, <span style="color:#993300;">'This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter, and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.<br /></span><br />At the second tree the woodsman said, <span style="color:#993300;">'This looks like a strong tree. I will be able to sell it to the shipyard.'The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.<br /></span><br />When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, <span style="color:#993300;">the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the men said,'I don't need anything special from my tree, I'll take this one,' and he cut it down.</span><br /><br />When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for.<br /><br />The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat.. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying Kings had come to an end.<br />The third tree was cut into large pieces, and left alone in the dark.<br />The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams</strong>. </div><div align="justify"><br /><strong><span style="color:#000099;">Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time.</span></strong><br /></div><p align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424239036289305266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp429fzXJr5yimdw2xWADnmDawIP1BPj1mZ734RI2Z8GyzbhhosjOMKrj27YZrCMPM30MkQirhthC422IPS2hncdmYH6wqwBSjOn46SX_ko9jWBsA_e7nnd3H2L6z8c6BixgJNKjx0rng/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said 'Peace' and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.<br /></p></strong></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424239040766540754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjAKjXnVcz6_tjEcrHeSi8YOEkSBaSiu8GW9ReF6eCPxWmZVUSP-KN8wloJiAtwhE84q7doHftPTmf9TOc_TnfRD6N1pHgI8JDtlz8WzZIozcMyJb30dZBnn2-9SIJHa6aPXz-oo8Yig/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /> <p><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.</strong></span><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424239047109604178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWeGyMxE3WB4NBXa3egpHl_0aYgx5MjoA2lD5vz9wIhALlJY9NNdni_1cWRAk-ljIM9mqeTX9X26FFsfcB3Y3wyUX72Tihdylp7Rpqcpi0E8YEixgdYD37qyXO4AihOym0dNLJHiUYQo/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, God will give you great gifts.<br /></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His Ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.</strong></span> </p><p><strong>==================================</strong></span></p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-80170012892112149352009-12-15T11:44:00.007+05:302009-12-15T12:06:27.166+05:30If You Cannot Encourage - Dont Discourage..!!<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">If You Cannot Encourage - Dont Discourage..!!</span></strong><br /></div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJrlXpdECbvcXLrH04TYEanoI37qRu40mYDNyVZoxcOCNXmbYxkyexEfyimeugvk5r5LvjGkgMJdBa4Rmu2KfqIdUzcmL7DohAo2lS-Z4lfcCL9LQbvG0uaeZhvnddv1tWH5MD5Pp7OY/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415347026558035682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJrlXpdECbvcXLrH04TYEanoI37qRu40mYDNyVZoxcOCNXmbYxkyexEfyimeugvk5r5LvjGkgMJdBa4Rmu2KfqIdUzcmL7DohAo2lS-Z4lfcCL9LQbvG0uaeZhvnddv1tWH5MD5Pp7OY/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs saw how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead.<br />The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit with all their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died.<br /><br />The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMVqN76BKCzLglDyIxkvT7fArcl14IGjp_VGp-xM6YfYbv-dlO-4mrSerDCLB4JvKOYZG4RNbFwpzmftoib2wLuw84qBcZh4isMQk1rhfAEM2aa-GlSiY5E_8e5g4NMxHXvqxkH70-mo/s1600-h/2.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415347103542959346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMVqN76BKCzLglDyIxkvT7fArcl14IGjp_VGp-xM6YfYbv-dlO-4mrSerDCLB4JvKOYZG4RNbFwpzmftoib2wLuw84qBcZh4isMQk1rhfAEM2aa-GlSiY5E_8e5g4NMxHXvqxkH70-mo/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die.<br /><br />He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs said, "Did you not hear us?"<br /><br />The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time.<br /></span></div><p><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="color:#000066;">This story teaches two lessons:</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="color:#000066;">1.</span> There is power of life and death in the tongue. An encouraging word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it through the day.</span></strong><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"><span style="color:#000066;"><strong>2.</strong></span> <strong>A destructive word to someone who is down can be what it takes to kill them.</strong></span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Be careful of what you say. Speak life to those who cross your path. The power of words...<br /><br />it is sometimes hard to understand that an encouraging word can go such a long way.<br /><br />Anyone can speak words that tend to rob another of the spirit to continue in difficult times. Special is the individual who will take the time to encourage another.</strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>If You Cannot Encourage – at least.. Don’t Discourage!!</strong></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;">=======================================</span></p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-46326292159310424002009-12-15T10:38:00.009+05:302009-12-15T10:55:41.827+05:30KEEP GOING... Never say I QUIT !!!....<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong> KEEP GOING...Never say I QUIT !!!....</strong></span><br /></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415326138045492514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 167px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWof5_4rPVQXHImgtyDbuiqmWyha1BPMSH2_pOHECRZlPFtHDdtemyscfJMPxoMuifILEAM08e7jmuaZaGgOU53CnJnQMyaHD82EsWKFX2hd5DmMSSxAyl6qKAOGGcdsh_h9Q-PLyhUr4/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify">One day I decided to quit... I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality... I wanted to quit my life.<br /><br />I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.<br />"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?" His answer surprised me...<br />"Look around", He said.. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?" "Yes", I replied.<br /><br />When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed.<br /><br />But I did not quit on the bamboo. In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful.<br />And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo. He said.<br /><br />"In the third year, there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit. In the fourth year, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. "I would not quit.." He said. "Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth.<br /><br />Compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant... But just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415326268135253266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMWVWkbPwXNEuF7wOaam4I9R-rpLSNO3GTqOj-rOgbfAaqlNxihrDY6K3IHr3xFoAvAvvi4982ZWhv_Bi2f0GDvdRC8e3H9Biv1WvLGzUTjNR72f_aDTElNKimCS7uSsjWnjpvIQaq5U/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="justify">It had spent the five years growing roots.<br />Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle."<br /><br /><span style="color:#330033;">He said to me. "Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots."<br /><br />"I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you. " Don't compare yourself to others .." He said. " The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern ... Yet, they both make the forest beautiful."<br /><br />Your time will come, " God said to me. " You will rise high! " How high should I rise?" I asked.<br />How high will the bamboo rise?" He asked in return. "As high as it can? " I questioned.<br /><br />" Yes. " He said, "Give me glory by rising as high as you can. " </span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#000066;">I hope these words can help you see that God will never give up on you. He will never give up on you. Never regret a day in your life.</span></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">Good days give you happiness<br />Bad days give you experiences;<br />Both are essential to life.</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#000066;"><strong>A happy and meaningful life requires our continuous input and creativity. It does not happen by chance. It happens because of our choices and actions. And each day we are given new opportunities to choose and act and, in doing so, we create our own unique journey." Keep going...<br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">Happiness keeps you Sweet, Trials keep you Strong, Sorrows keep you Human, Failures keep you humble , Success keeps You Glowing, but Only God keeps You Going!</span> </span></strong></span></p><p align="justify">=========================</p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-25276937682067907342009-11-26T13:53:00.005+05:302009-11-26T14:07:57.762+05:30Have You Watched Them sleep?<div align="center"><strong>Have You Watched Them sleep?</strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408327011895693826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xYWG7pJlNhIwLm5V6WcPJPYC4GLHt9m3jOVmS2gP0kgp6GbQ1I_MCvAI3FwCkfL4LGHAUfL5vi9oU_lHOIcB04uRu1RgKbLZkcrezzhaaZVvDXHTV-05S_LnvI1PL6bCB9qxWy8a5lw/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Have you ever watched your parents while they were asleep?</span></strong><br /></div><p align="justify"><strong>Your father’s body, once big and the strong but now, the big is withered and the strong is weaker. Wisps of grey peek out from his hair, wrinkles now “scar” his forehead and face.<br />This man works hard every day and would sacrifice anything to make sure his family is provided for and his children get the best education possible.<br /><br />Or how about your mother, whose soft hands once cuddled and held you close when you were a baby? Now, those hands are dry and rough, bearing evidence of the challenges she faced just for us.<br /><br />“This woman takes care of our daily needs, constantly nagging and scolding us because of her love for us. But sadly, we often misconstrue her love as control and unfairness.”<br /><br />I have never thought of watching my parents while they slept. I've watched my cousins sleep when they were babies, all round and cuddly and sweet smelling. But watch my parents? No way!<br /><br />But after reading this message, I realised that there was indeed much truth in it. In fact, my parents do not have to be asleep for me to realise that they have aged.<br /><br />Just looking at my mother walk tells me that her legs are not as strong as they were before. Or hearing her ask me for help with that flowerpot in the garden, the one she used to be able to push and drag around the garden without my help.<br /><br />Or watching my dad lift a 10kg bah of rice. I can easily carry that bag now. I am young. But to him, it is a struggle.<br /><br /><span style="color:#000066;">What do all these observations tell me?<br /></span>Yes, my parents have aged. They are ageing, just as I am ageing. But as I age towards my best years and become stronger, they in turn are becoming weaker. They were once the caregivers and i the receiver. in time, I know our roles will reverse. Like it or not, want it to or not, this is life.<br /><br />I suppose I have always subconsciously thought that my parents would always be with me, never growing old, It took that message to make me realise that my parents are not immortal. That they, too, will one day leave the world and me. Until then, I will make good use of our time together.<br /><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">By the way, I'm forwarding that message to all my family and friends to remind them to appreciate what they have now. It will not last...</span></strong></span> </p><p>==============================</p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-62258226268023170422009-11-25T12:47:00.006+05:302009-11-25T13:37:47.797+05:30Our Parents- Our Living Gods !<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>GOD CANNOT BE EVERYWHERE SO HE MADE PARENTS </strong><br /></div></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtd9UvN0cB8jZnnLIPOe4xAMdJbi_SqhSrH3rFEIECLIXGVcwKAomRUL-bAGjmCxh8hMdJ_-do-IEBEhDzSN6JBnzqFBTvg7V7_KluzBa4mC9xPVZ0x2BGhxz_w8qMeJ5SXPvs9XBE6M/s720/1.jpg" target="_blank"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtd9UvN0cB8jZnnLIPOe4xAMdJbi_SqhSrH3rFEIECLIXGVcwKAomRUL-bAGjmCxh8hMdJ_-do-IEBEhDzSN6JBnzqFBTvg7V7_KluzBa4mC9xPVZ0x2BGhxz_w8qMeJ5SXPvs9XBE6M/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /> </a><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"></div></span><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#000066;"><strong>Few days back when i had gone to a park for my evening walk i came across an elderly couple sitting on a bench looking completely dejected and lost talking to each other.<br />Tired myself and also curious to know about their topic of discussion i went and sat next to them.<br /><br />After a few moments what i could gather from their conversation was that their only son had migrated to America and they were left alone back here. Every sentence they said to each other conveyed to me their longing their loneliness and their unconditional love for their only son.<br /><br />My eyes literally welled up with tears and in that instance i realised just how selfish we children have become. In our pursuit to achieve our goals and ambitions we tend to forget the two most important people of our lives our parents.<br />Those parents who protected us when we were young those parents who nurtured us physically and mentally and guided us through our lives, those parents who wanted us even before we were conceived.<br /><br />What has the fate of these parents become now? most of them are languishing in old age homes most of them are leading a life of complete loneliness and most of them are discarded when they fall ill.<br /><br />Why do we children of our parents forget that we are what we are because of these two special people who brought us into this world protected us from nightmares and who encouraged us to chase our dreams.<br /><br />Well bringing this article to an end i would like to quote a few lines written by 'Dona Maddux Cooper' which says "<span style="color:#993399;">WHEN YOU WERE SMALL AND JUST A TOUCH AWAY I COVERED YOU WITH BLANKETS AGAINST THE COOL NIGHT AIR BUT NOW THAT YOU ARE TALL AND OUT OF REACH I FOLD MY HANDS AND COVER YOU WITH PRAYER</span>".<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">"We never know the love of our parents for us till we have become parents.”</span></strong> </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000000;"><strong>==========================</strong></span></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-46409856810465370882009-11-24T09:17:00.014+05:302009-11-24T15:30:50.327+05:30Understand Your Children<div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong>Understand Your Children</strong></span><br /></div></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzO_Oso_PdnQwPk_4zN1MrxagVFzMtO1bt7hx5FuO8qnOMHz1wQkCEXEcPywscZPuv3C7ASK5NZMBRbfnygZZo99seQ1faMYHAsWExzTz6esxiE_wnEy9pNRxSS6ZRQ60e05uebdcbPw/s1600/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407523709159270210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzO_Oso_PdnQwPk_4zN1MrxagVFzMtO1bt7hx5FuO8qnOMHz1wQkCEXEcPywscZPuv3C7ASK5NZMBRbfnygZZo99seQ1faMYHAsWExzTz6esxiE_wnEy9pNRxSS6ZRQ60e05uebdcbPw/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;">4 years ago, an accident took my beloved away and very often I wonder, how does my wife, who is now in the heavenly realm, feel right now? She must be feeling extremely sad for leaving a husband who is incapable to taking care of the house and the kid. 'cos that is the exact feeling that I have, as I feel that I have failed to provide for the physical and emotional needs of my child, and failed to be the dad and mum for my child.<br /><br />There was one particular day, when I had an emergency at work. Hence, I had to leave home whilst my child was still sleeping. So thinking that there was still rice leftovers, I hastily cooked an egg and left after informing my sleepy child.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2mkT57osKZXBRYjtQqJCXgISHe4EYKeJzaGWIEw8s4rns7oEPkMxRShrcKeKoHfLd7RljS_XJ97iagpHh3wU_ZkpnIqRVQfmQHPsROEa1UBFH0cel_GunReJFs1xAGoCBYF94FxS528/s1600/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407523838200419906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2mkT57osKZXBRYjtQqJCXgISHe4EYKeJzaGWIEw8s4rns7oEPkMxRShrcKeKoHfLd7RljS_XJ97iagpHh3wU_ZkpnIqRVQfmQHPsROEa1UBFH0cel_GunReJFs1xAGoCBYF94FxS528/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></a>With the double roles, I am often exhausted at work as well as when I am home. So after a long day, I came home, totally drained of all energy. So with just a brief hug and kiss for my child, I went straight into the room, skipping dinner. However, when I jumped into my bed with intention of just having a well-deserved sleep, all I heard and felt was broken porcelain and warm liquid! I flipped open my blanket, and there lies the source of the 'problem'... a broken bowl with instant noodles and a mess on the bedsheet and blanket!<br /><br />Boy, was I mad! I was so furious that I took a clothes hanger, charged straight at my child who was happily playing with his toy, and give him a good spanking! He merely cried but not asking for mercy, except a short explanation:<br /><br />"Dad, I was hungry and there wasn't any more leftover rice. But you were not back yet, hence I wanted to cook some instant noodles. But I remembered you reminding me not to touch or use the gas stove without any adults around, hence I turned on the shower and used the hot water from the bathroom to cook the noodles. One is for you and the other is for me. However, I was afraid that the noodles will turn cold, so I hid it under the blanket to keep it warm till you return. But I forgot to remind you 'cos I was playing with my toys...I am sorry Dad..."<br />At that moment, tears were starting to run down my cheeks...but I didn't want my son to see his dad crying so I dashed into the bathroom and cried with the shower head on to mask my cries. After that episode, I went towards my son to give him a tight hug and applied medication on him, while coaxing him to sleep. Then, it was time to clear up the mess on the bed. When everything was done and well past midnight, I passed my son's room, and saw that he was still crying, not from the pain on his little buttock, but from looking at the photograph of his beloved mummy.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407523990182069394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80iOfaIvuikFM4AXkm9TGI3z5Gxi3Tg24GwoKRPWUvroCA7Ik9opMKtcHFqF-ywKTsOjTP_ZdSz2HeVLdPwmB40n0XELr-2hJtSsr-ZhzA-eXcnjVGGY9UHbArYEf8GTkBicLsUZYzlg/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /><br />A year has passed since the episode, I have tried, in this period, to focus on giving him both the love of his dad and mum, and to attend to most of his needs. And soon, he is turning seven, and will be graduating from kind ergarten. Fortunately, the incident did not leave a lasting impression on his childhood memories and he is still happily growing up.<br /><br />However, not so long ago, I hit my boy again, with much regret. This time, his kindergarten teacher called, informing me of my son's absence from school. I took off early from work and went home, expecting him to explain. But he wasn't to be found, so I went around our house, calling out his name and eventually found him outside a stationery shop, happily playing computer games. I was fuming, brought him home and whack the hell out of him. He did not retaliate, except to say, 'I am sorry, Dad'. But after much probing, I realized that it was a 'Talent Show' organized by his school and the invite is for every student's mummy. And that was the reason for his absence as he has no mummy.....<br /><br />Few days after the caning, my son came home to tell me, the kindergarten has recently taught him how to read and write. Since then, he has kept t o himself and stayed in his room to practice his writing, which I am sure, would make my wife proud, if she was still around. 'cos he makes me proud too!<br /><br />Time passes by very quickly, and soon another year has passed. Its winter and its Christmas time. Everywhere the Christmas spirit is in every passer-by...Christmas carols and frantic shoppers....but alas, my son got into another <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJYHEl3h-Vx7SgfJ4cXPNnvoPtyffqGVnlzHRgKyyvwXog48Y8IKhaTA8kxiAYmVYZ2yCnFqbzkV5l7rSkAotZ6BLM6eEVuywf0AaXq-pf3qHeLVnZfy4_kbxm-mDe2DTJHwDZpQcmObA/s1600/4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407524142317737586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJYHEl3h-Vx7SgfJ4cXPNnvoPtyffqGVnlzHRgKyyvwXog48Y8IKhaTA8kxiAYmVYZ2yCnFqbzkV5l7rSkAotZ6BLM6eEVuywf0AaXq-pf3qHeLVnZfy4_kbxm-mDe2DTJHwDZpQcmObA/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></a>trouble. When I was about to knock off from the day's work, the post office called. Due to the peak season, the post master was also on an edgy mood. He called to tell me that my son has attempted to post several letters with no addressee. Although I did make a promise never to hit my son again, I couldn't help but to hit him as I feel that this child of mine is really beyond control. Once again, as before, he apologized, 'I'm sorry, Dad' and no additional reason to explain. I pushed him towards a corner, went to the post office to collect the letters with no addressee and came home, and angrily questioned my son on his prank, during this time of the year.<br /><br />His answer, amidst his sobbing, was: The letters were for Mummy. My eyes grew teary, but I tried to control my emotions and continued to ask him: "But why did u post so many letters, at one time?" My son's reply was: "I have been writing to mummy for a long time, but each time I reach out for the post box, it was too high for me, hence I was not able to post the letters. But recently, when I went back to the postbox, I could reach it and I sent it all at once..."<br /><br />After hearing this, I was lost. Lost at not knowing what to do, what to say.....<br />I told my son, "Son, mummy is in the heavenly kingdom, so in future, if you have anything to tell her, just burn the letter and it will reach mummy. My son, on hearing this, was much pacified and calm, and soon after, he was sleeping soundly. On promising that I will burn the letters on his behalf, I brought the letters outside, but couldn’t help opening the letter before they turn to ash.<br /><br />And one of the letters broke my heart....<br /><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">Dear Mummy,<br />I miss you so much! Today, there was a 'Talent Show' in school, and the school invited all mothers for the show. But you are not around, so I did not want to participate as well. I did not tell Dad about it as I was afraid that Dad would start to cry and miss you all over again. Dad went around looking for me, but in order to hide my sadness, I sat in front of the computer and started playing games at one of the shops. Dad was furious, and he couldn’t help it but scolded and hit me, but I did not tell him the real reason. Mummy, every day I see Dad missing you and whenever he think of you, he is so sad and often hide and cry in his room.. I think we both miss you very very much. Too much for our own good I think. But Mummy, I am starting to forget your face. Can you please appear in my dreams so that I can see your face and remember you? I heard that if you fall asleep with the photograph of the person whom you miss, you will see the person in your dreams. But mummy, why haven’t you appeared?<br /><br /></span>After reading the letter, I can't stop sobbing. 'cos I can never replace the irreplaceable gap left behind by my wife....<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407524217261544258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn20a17fC8In2roucvOKn3Wdc9zxiKLAuNLZPusCE-BlTTSMsM6pR7UgE8hIqWzhZopsTTmLeWil1EIgD4uuEanPNUhRxXzmo-1qHHslUuS8ErmgXXXUrc2R4YxWiRe7FMR100KKlzwtY/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>For the females with children:</strong><br /></span><span style="color:#3333ff;">Don't do so much overtime. If you cannot finish the work, it must be some kind of problems within the company, and it is not your sole problem. Feedback to your boss. Endless overtime may not necessary be the answer to the problem. Take care of your health so that you can treasure and take care of your little precious.<br /></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">For the married men:</span><br /></strong><span style="color:#993399;">Drink less, smoke less, cos nothing can replace your good health, not even business nor clients. Try thinking this way, are you able to work till your clients are totally dependent on you? or your boss is totally dependent on you? In this society, no one is indispensable. Take care of your health, so that you can take care of your little precious and your loved ones.</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">For those singles out there:</span><br /></strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">Beauty lies in loving yourself first. With confidence and loving yourself, you will see the beauty in other things around you. You will be able to work better and happier. Don't let your health be affected by your work or your boss, so nothing matters more than your well being.</span><br /></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>“While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.”</strong></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><span style="color:#3333ff;"><strong>“Children learn to smile from their parents.”</strong></span></p></span>===============================AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-65520169088728912512009-11-12T15:52:00.004+05:302009-11-12T16:29:15.270+05:30Think Before You Talk<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"><strong>Think Before You Talk</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"></span></strong></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_XZ3qHhj0p-lyJlkIMdQo-SZLwfge_a63Y_ab83Zm7-mOB7nUzYTEf-aLKKVOVNCg3QTEYw69dky7Xgub0HPyqCJ29E9SH85flEcRZXHXv_m2aEz69sQS7iO1pUj_uuCD3_XyICfhR4/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403166427205636002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_XZ3qHhj0p-lyJlkIMdQo-SZLwfge_a63Y_ab83Zm7-mOB7nUzYTEf-aLKKVOVNCg3QTEYw69dky7Xgub0HPyqCJ29E9SH85flEcRZXHXv_m2aEz69sQS7iO1pUj_uuCD3_XyICfhR4/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></a><span style="color:#000099;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Once upon a time an old man spread rumors that his neighbor was a thief. As a result, the young man was arrested. Days later the young man was proven innocent. After been released he sued the old man for wrongly accusing him<br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">In court the old man told the Judge:</span> <span style="color:#000099;">'They were just comments, didn't harm anyone..</span>'<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The judge, before passing sentence on the case, told the old man:</span><br />'Write all the things you said about him on a piece of paper. Cut them up and on the way home, throw the pieces of paper out. Tomorrow, come back to hear the sentence.'<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The next day, the judge told the old man:</span> 'Before receiving the sentence, you will have to go out and gather all the pieces of paper that you threw out yesterday.'<br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">The old man said:</span> 'I can't do that! The wind spread them and I won't know where to find them.'<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">The judge then replied:</span> 'The same way, simple comments may destroy the honor of a man to such an extent that one is not able to fix it. If you can't speak well of someone, rather don't say anything.</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993399;">'Let's all be masters of our mouths, so that we won't be slaves of our words</span>.'</strong></span></p><p align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">So Think Before You Talk.</span></strong><br />=============================</p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-81440024029335323922009-11-07T09:47:00.005+05:302009-11-07T10:08:52.549+05:30Let the mud settle - Lesson for LIFE<div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><strong>Let the Mud Settle</strong></span><br /></div></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401212126683344242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6TjwKTmFFuobeUrHgSTlUl63iGYRjbmInquEaeTttndoD42J_sskGLk6bV5Elp0ytY9fzMMUWt2U8ZqTdV_hMlAjr0KpN4FnNSfliIpHh26sLtGADsEQoCBAqrYh7GpyqnjmWAQlhpQo/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify">Once Buddha was walking from one town to another town with a few of his followers. This was in the initial days. While they were traveling, they happened to pass a lake. They stopped there and Buddha told one of his disciples, "I am thirsty. Do get me some water from that lake there."<br /><br />The disciple walked up to the lake. When he reached it, he noticed that right at that moment, a bullock cart started crossing through the lake. As a result, the water became very muddy, very turbid.<br /><br />The disciple thought, "How can I give this muddy water to Buddha to drink!"So he came back and told Buddha, "The water in there is very muddy. I don't think it is fit to drink."<br /><br />After about half an hour, again Buddha asked the same disciple to go back to the lake and get him some water to drink. The disciple obediently went back to the lake. This time too he found that the lake was muddy. He returned and informed Buddha about the same.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsRHayQve_iayZ3b299jCwyHMLW_jKvdkL5sM2ThDCSBfxjNksDGRcPOBIkbMPZNxki24l2934Lk8gb8LhH-0CoeQLyp9Fta8KtIng4gODYnXyvaZ6_EXqNzYFMT6jlRQiyZyCKEuIng/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401212326115556194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsRHayQve_iayZ3b299jCwyHMLW_jKvdkL5sM2ThDCSBfxjNksDGRcPOBIkbMPZNxki24l2934Lk8gb8LhH-0CoeQLyp9Fta8KtIng4gODYnXyvaZ6_EXqNzYFMT6jlRQiyZyCKEuIng/s320/2.jpg" border="0" /></a>After sometime, again Buddha asked the same disciple to go back. The disciple reached the lake to find the lake absolutely clean and clear with pure water in it. The mud had settled down and the water above it looked fit to be had. So he collected some water in a pot and brought it to Buddha.<br /><br />Buddha looked at the water, and then he looked up at the disciple and said," See what you did to make the water clean. You let it be.... and the mud settled down on its own - and you got clear water.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Your mind is also like that </span>!</span></strong><br /></span><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>When it is disturbed, just let it be. Give it a little time. It will settle down on its own. You don't have to put in any effort to calm it down. It will happen. It is effortless."</strong><br /></span><br /><strong>What did Buddha emphasize here?</strong><br /><span style="color:#000066;"><strong>He said, "It is effortless." Having 'Peace of Mind' is not a strenuous job; it is an effortless process! </strong></span></p><p align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#000066;">================================</span></strong></p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-2157216380958191812009-10-25T18:30:00.005+05:302009-10-25T19:26:07.214+05:30The Ant and the Contact Lens<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>The Ant and the Contact Lens</strong></span> <div><div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330000;"><strong>(A true story by Josh and Karen Zarandona)</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPu6jDykTSh1ULDiv-npzmURjJehIoEC9XGNTDwwBGqtyd2k4pIZHzAEi1rERV4R285ob7AxtEETS1m582vQLZY_0xda5dg4Jvs-W3Qt8ff1cdWt3WDsftDyTUrJPi7-7SFC1AJKlGQg/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396533147198661154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPu6jDykTSh1ULDiv-npzmURjJehIoEC9XGNTDwwBGqtyd2k4pIZHzAEi1rERV4R285ob7AxtEETS1m582vQLZY_0xda5dg4Jvs-W3Qt8ff1cdWt3WDsftDyTUrJPi7-7SFC1AJKlGQg/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000066;"><strong>Brenda was a young woman who was invited to go rock climbing. Although she was very scared, she went with her group to a tremendous Granite cliff.<br />In spite of her fear, she put on the gear, took a hold on the rope,and started up the face of that rock.Well, she got to a ledge where she could take a breather. As she was hanging on there, the safety rope snapped against Brenda’s eye and Knocked out her contact lens.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#000066;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Well, here she is, on a rock ledge, with hundreds of feet below her and hundreds of feet above her. Of course, she looked and looked and looked, hoping it had landed on the ledge, but it just wasn’t there</span>.</strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>Here she was, far from home, her sight now blurry. She was desperate and began to get upset, so she prayed to the Lord to help her to find it.</strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /> <span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>When she got to the top, a friend examined her eye and her clothing for the lens, but there was no contact lens to be found. She sat down, despondent, with the rest of the party, waiting for the rest of them to make it up the face of the cliff.</strong></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396534163651809026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxIMdoJQOmJeNUfoKZF2YRiAWGVem76dy2dTKdHOEng-OWhwhDQhzMPbm_TdOnCeqdkA1jNOXjMHIjoLdC50HkUCkVagUXikOHgQ8Lzto3hiRElXE9umGcEwHB86CJxE5CRawXTiecuI8/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">She looked out across range after range of mountains, thinking of that Bible verse that says, “The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth.” She thought, “Lord, You can see all these mountains.You know every stone and leaf, and you know exactly where my contact lens is. Please help me</span>.”</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>Finally, they walked down the trail to the bottom. At the bottom there was a new party of climbers just starting up the face of the cliff.One of them shouted out, “Hey, you guys! Anybody lose a contact lens?”</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>Well, that would be startling enough, but you know why the climber saw it? An ant was moving slowly across the face of the rock, carrying it on its back.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>Brenda told me that her father is a cartoonist. When she told him the incredible story of the ant, the prayer, and the contact lens, he drew a picture of an ant lugging that contact lens with the words,”Lord, I don’t know why you want me to carry this thing. I can’t eat it,and it’s awfully heavy. But if this is what you want me to do, I’ll carry it for you.”</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">I think it would probably do some of us good to occasionally say,”God, I don’t know why you want me to carry this load. I can see no good in it and it’s awfully heavy. But, if you want me to carry it, I will</span>.”</strong></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396533746302784738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBilJaoyQaYN3MwdWxnesPfHr_3l0r5BuR76rYK_p-ptSUJYr-Qbietvnjm1VD5SUpCTljVpbwCAL9D2mWE71RrYKMi8PJ5sXaUGJwmbxyeyQ7qumwwGE_oOKU3MgAFKDCa-Ozwrb6FAs/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#000066;"><strong>God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called. Yes, I do love GOD. He is my source of existence and my saviour. He keeps me functioning each and every day. Without Him, I am nothing, but with Him I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Phil.4:13)</strong></span></div><br /></div></div>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7496067411265613074.post-11489263788066975902009-10-09T13:56:00.005+05:302009-10-09T14:08:10.671+05:30Pair of Old Shoes<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Pair of Old Shoes</span></strong><br /></div><p align="justify"></span><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390514219495722002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjixSH8q33ieoOrabFNyUh17gczTp1c4Y3V6Fl32zqFGNmtOrpUfyqVtCsqtJf0uAp06G2w75f-5FAH0V209XiYb1QfhHG2ybaxU0sVa407Op9KcwMQxLFLCIfb1_zZfHo1oYNP6cxkaCI/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></strong><strong><span style="color:#330000;"> <span style="font-family:arial;">A young man, a student in one of the universities, was one day taking a walk with a professor, who was commonly called the students' friend for his kindness to those who waited on his instructions.<br /><br />As they went along, they saw lying in the path a pair of old shoes, which were supposed to belong to a poor man who was working in a field close by, and who had nearly finished his day's work . . . </span></span></strong></p><strong><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><p align="justify"><br />Student turned to the professor, saying: "Let us play the man a trick:<br />We will hide his shoes, and hide ourselves behind those bushes, and wait to see his perplexity when he cannot find them ..."</span></span><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390515009944355842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjCc9lc67q6eNdG1DV0SUgd6j5ygSP2aQHbzq_ahHi8RlPhpG2IOgSewLGhWseajH4a0ebIGAG1mWHEBo17pvygGFehvjMB5lv6hW_cIh-DTuI7Z2rPikmEMuYTFvy18xaAUfQYpDeISM/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></strong><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">"My young friend," answered the professor, "We should never amuse ourselves at the expense of the poor . . . But you are rich, and may give yourself a much greater pleasure by means of this poor man. </span></strong></span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Put a coin in each shoe, and then we will hide ourselves and watch how this affects him.."</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">The student did so and they both placed themselves behind the bushes close by. The poor man soon finished his work, and came across the field to the path where he had left his coat and shoes . . . </span></strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></p><p align="justify"><span style="color:#330000;"><strong>While putting on his coat he slipped his foot into one of his shoes, but feeling something hard, he stooped down to feel what it was, and found the coin. Astonishment and wonder were seen upon his countenance.<br />He gazed upon the coin, turned it around and looked at it again and again.<br /><br />He then looked around him on all sides, but no person was to be seen. He now put the money into his pocket, and proceeded to put on the other shoe; but his surprise was doubled on finding the other coin . . .<br /><br />His feelings overcame him . . . He fell upon his knees, looked up to heaven and uttered aloud a fervent thanksgiving in which he spoke of his wife, sick and helpless, and his children without bread, whom this timely bounty, from some unknown hand, would save from perishing . . .<br /><br />The student stood there deeply affected, and his eyes filled with tears.</strong><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>"Now," said the professor, are you not much better pleased than if you had played your intended trick?"<br />The youth replied, "You have taught me a lesson which I will never forget. .. I feel now the truth of these words, which I never understood before: "It's more blessed to give than to receive."<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>If you want happiness... .For a lifetime - help someone..</strong></span></span> </p><p align="justify">==========================================</p>AlfaGodwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08673287092702638243noreply@blogger.com2