One More Use for Artists « Result #1 on Mar 1, 2009, 9:08pm »
A great raja's daughter was beautiful and talented, and she loved to hunt in the woods on horseback. One day, as she was galloping after a fine buck, she suddenly found herself in a dense forest, all alone. She climbed a tree to see if she could spot her followers anywhere in the distance. As she reached the top branch, she was shocked to see a great forest fire. She watched the fire lapping up trees and shrubs, closing in with tongues of flame on the nests of birds and the lairs of animals, destroying everything in its way. Herds of deer and other animals ran about in a frenzy of fear, and birds of various colors were suffocated by the thick smoke, screaming and screeching as they fell into the fire. In the midst of this horrible scene, the princess was deeply moved to see a pair of wild geese trying very hard to save their young ones, their little chicks who didn't even have wings yet. As they tried to carry them here and there, they flew distractedly while the fire came towards them closer and closer. They had very little hope of saving themselves or their young ones. As the fire was about to catch the nest, the old male bird made a last desperate attempt and saved himself by flying to a point of safety, leaving the family behind. The mother goose threw herself as a guard over her little ones, and with all of them screaming wildly, was burned in the flames that closed over them.
The princess watched all this, and as she rode away safely, was both moved and angered by what she had witnessed. "How selfish and unreliable these males are!" she said to herself "I'm sure they are the same all the world over, whether they are birds or beasts or men. I'll have nothing to do with them ever. I'll never trust them." And she made up her mind then and there never to marry, ever.
Her followers, who had been frantically looking for her, soon caught up with her, and they all went home.
From that day on, the princess wore a serious face, shunned all males, and told her parents that she would never marry anyone. The old parents were very upset over this, and begged of her to tell them what had made her take such a drastic decision. She was silent and gave them no explanations. Soon everybody came to know that the princess was not for marriage, and the number of suitors soon fell off.
One day a well-known artist happened to visit the raja's court and painted some exquisite pictures for the palace. But just as he was getting ready to leave, he caught a glimpse of the princess and wanted to put all that beauty into a painting. So he begged the princess to give him a few sittings, which she reluctantly did. He painted with great pleasure a faithful likeness of her face and figure. And when he finished the painting, instead of giving it to her, he quietly took it with him when he left the city.
He visited next another raja, who was a great lover of paintings, and sold the painting of the princess to him for a large sum of money. The picture was hung up in the raja's great hall where everyone who saw it admired it and talked about it. They were enchanted by the beauty of the princess and wondered who she could be.
The king's only son and heir had been away hunting all this time and returned home, saw the painting in the hall, and fell madly in love with the image on the canvas without even asking who the original was. When he did ask, nobody knew who or where she was. The lovesick prince lost all pleasure in his daily rounds, shunned company, fell into a gloomy silence, and moped away in his corner of the palace. The father was very unhappy to see his son depressed and soon learned the cause of it. He felt anxious for his son's health and sent messengers in search of the artist. But the artist had long since left the country and gone away to foreign lands, as artists tend to do.
The prince's health and temper grew steadily worse and he was angry with anyone who came near him. One day the old prime minister, a trusted friend of the royal family, happened to arouse him from his gloomy reverie, and the prince was so furious that he at once sentenced him to death. The young prince's word was law in that palace, and the old man had no way of escaping his fate. When the raja heard of it, he summoned the prince and persuaded him to put off the execution for a few days, so that the prime minister might arrange his affairs and transfer his powers to someone else. The old minister was allowed to go home to his family for the time.
Though he didn't wish to talk about it to anyone, his family knew all about the fate that awaited him. His youngest daughter, his favorite in the family, talked to him soothingly, comforted him, and wormed out of him the secret of the prince's rage and sorrow.
Now this young woman was very clever and resourceful. She soon found a way of getting her father out of his difficulty. She went to the young prince, and somehow succeeded in getting an audience. She begged him very hard to spare her father's life for a certain length of time, so that she herself could go abroad and find the woman in the wonderful painting that was the cause of all this trouble.
This pleased the prince very much. The young woman's scheme sounded quite plausible. He saw some hope of realizing what was so far only a wisp of a dream. So he relented and withdrew his terrible order, and the old minister returned to his duties in the palace. The raja was very pleased at this turn of events and wished the young daughter of his minister every success.
Now the minister's daughter was herself a good artist. She made a faithful copy of the great artist's painting. She then dressed herself as a man and set out on her travels disguised as a wandering artist. She hardly knew where to go or whom to ask, but she loved her father and was determined to save his life. So she traveled for months in different directions, showed the picture of the princess wherever she halted, and asked everyone she met, but no one could identify the person in the painting. After a year's weary wandering, she arrived at a distant and strange country, and there, to her great joy, everyone who saw the picture knew who the person in the picture was. They all exclaimed at what a true and speaking likeness the painting was of the daughter of their own raja. And they all spoke of her as "The Princess Who Was Determined Never To Marry."
"Never to marry?" asked the minister's daughter. "What's wrong with her? Did something terrible happen?"
"Nobody knows," they said, "not even her parents."
This news damped her enthusiasm somewhat. If the princess had turned against marriage, how was she, a mere stranger, to succeed in getting her married to the prince who was dying for her?
Still, she was a brave girl and was willing to try more than one way of reaching the princess. She rented a house near the palace and opened her studio there. Every day she set up her easel near a large window that looked out on the palace and worked away with her paints and brushes, till the courtiers and finally the king himself wanted to know more about her. One day the raja summoned her to the court to show him her paintings. When he saw them, he liked them a lot, bought some of them, and invited her to do some pictures for the special palace he was building for his only daughter. Meanwhile, the minister's daughter had the opportunity to see the princess several times, and she was now sure the princess was the true original of the painting that had so enthralled the prince and nearly driven him out of his senses.
When the walls in the new palace were ready, the artist began to paint all sorts of lovely designs and figures on them, decorating even the ceilings and arches. The raja and his court came often to see them and to admire her artistry. Each picture was a study in itself, and each had a story that the artist recounted in her own winning manner. All this drew the ladies of the court to these pictures. Some of these women were friends and attendants of the princess. The minister's daughter thought these women, if anyone, would surely know the reason why the princess shunned all males and despised marriage. So she set to work on them and won them over with her art and courtesy till one of them opened up to her. She was a confidante of the princess, and she told the artist the secret story of the princess's adventure in the forest and her disillusionment with all males in nature.
This was all the minister's daughter wanted to know. On one of the walls of the living room, she drew a picture that was just the reverse of what the princess had seen in the forest. It was a wonderful picture that showed the utter fickleness of females and the devotion of a male. She substituted a pair of antelopes for the geese, and in the place of the princess she painted a very handsome young prince, so young, so brave and handsome, that he would win the heart of any woman.
As soon as this picture was ready, the minister's daughter persuaded the friends of the princess to ask her to come and have a look at it. One day, to her great joy, the princess did honor her with a visit. She went from picture to picture and greatly admired the artist's skill. She at last came to the picture of the antelopes and the prince, and she was arrested by it. She stood there for a while lost in thought, and then turned to the artist and said, "What's the story in this picture?"
"O princess," replied the daughter of the prime minister, seizing her chance, "this picture is about something that really happened to the prince of our country. He was out hunting in the forest and he saw this scene in a forest fire, which convinced him of the fickleness of all females and the faithfulness of males. This may not interest you very much, but it concerns us greatly in our country. This incident has brought such a change in the prince's life. Since this happened, he has shunned all women as faithless and refuses to marry anyone. This decision on the part of his son and heir causes our raja great grief and has cast a gloom over the whole court. Nobody knows what to do about it."
"How very strange!" cried the princess, hardly letting the artist finish her story. "Can males then be faithful and females false? I, for one, always believed that males were false and faithless in all of nature. But now I see there are two sides even to that question. After all, I've observed only one instance and made up my mind too quickly. I'll have to rethink the whole question."
"Oh, I'm glad to hear you say so, my princess," said the artist, obviously delighted by this turn, "but how I wish our good prince too would see his mistake as you do yours. But you are not stubborn as he is."
"Someone should point it out to him, I think," said the princess, "and perhaps, like me, he might change his mind. As I have benefited from an incident in his life, he might profit from one in mine. Please feel free to tell him about my case and see whether it will change his mind."
"Surely I shall, with the greatest pleasure, as soon as I get home," replied the artist, her heart fluttering with joy at this unexpected success.
From that day on, through word of mouth, everyone in the kingdom came to know that the princess had conquered her aversion to marriage and was once again open to offers, and suitors began to crowd the capital. But the princess refused their attentions and seemed displeased with all of them---for a new reason. Her chief pleasure was in looking at the pictures the artist had painted on her new walls and talking to her endlessly about the prince, in whom she had become greatly interested.
The minister's daughter knew what to do. She fanned the flames by telling the princess all sorts of vivid stories about the prince's manliness and virtues. She did it so thoroughly that the princess one day could no longer contain herself and wanted very much to see him. This was the very thing the minister's daughter had hoped for. She readily promised the princess that she would return to her own country and do everything she could to bring the prince back. She would tell him the princess's story and make him eager to see her and talk to her.
Great was the joy of the old prime minister, her father, and the young prince when the minister's daughter returned home and told them everything she had accomplished. The old man hugged her and called her the savior of his life. The young prince loaded her with gifts. The prince didn't waste a day in preparing for his journey. He set out with a grand cavalcade and a magnificent train of followers for the court of the princess's father, and we needn't tell you that the princess accepted him right away as a worthy suitor. The wealth of two kingdoms was poured into the splendor of a gala wedding.
A poor woman had only one son. She worked hard cleaning houses and grinding grain for the well-to-do families in town. They gave her some grain in return and she lived on it. But she could never afford to buy nice clothes or toys for her son. Once, when she was going to the market with some grain to sell, she asked her son, "What can I get you from the market?" He promptly replied, "A drum, Mother, get me a drum." The mother knew she would never have enough money to buy a drum for her son. She went to the market, sold the grain, and bought some gram flour and some salt. She felt sad that she was coming home empty-handed. So when she saw a nice piece of wood on the road, she picked it up and brought it home to her son. The son didn't know what to do with it.
Yet he carried it with him when he went out to play. An old woman was lighting her woodstove with some cow-dung patties. The fire was not catching and there was smoke all around and it made the old woman's eyes water. The boy stopped and asked why she was crying. She said that she couldn't light her fire and cook. The boy said, "I have a nice piece of wood and you can start your fire with it." The old woman was very pleased, lit the fire, made some bread, and gave a piece to the boy.
He took the bread and walked on till he came upon a potter's wife. Her child was crying and flailing his arms. The boy stopped and asked her why the child was crying. The potter's wife said the child was hungry and she had nothing in the house to give him. The boy gave the bread in his hand to the hungry child, who ate it eagerly and stopped crying. The potter's wife was grateful to the boy and gave him a pot.
When he walked on, he came to the river, where he saw a washerman and his wife quarreling. The boy stopped and asked the man why he was scolding and beating his wife. The washerman said, "This woman broke the only pot we had. Now I've nothing to boil my clothes in before I wash them." The boy said, "Here, don't quarrel, take this pot and use it." The washerman was very happy to get a large pot. He gave the boy a coat in return.
The boy walked on. He soon came to a bridge, where he saw a man shivering in the cold without so much as a shirt on him. He asked the man what had happened to his shirt, and the man said, "I was coming to the city on this horse. Robbers attacked me and took everything, even my shirt." The boy said, "Don't worry. You can have this coat." The man took the coat and said, "You're very kind, and I want to give you this horse."
The boy took the horse, and very soon he ran into a wedding party with the musicians, the bridegroom, and his family, but all of them were sitting under a tree with long faces. The boy stopped and asked why they looked so depressed. The bridegroom's father said, "We're all set to go in a wedding procession. But we need a horse for the bridegroom. The man who was supposed to bring it hasn't arrived. The bridegroom can't arrive on foot. It's getting late, and we'll miss the auspicious hour for the wedding." So the boy offered them his horse, and they were delighted. When the bridegroom asked him what he could do in return, the boy said, "You can give me something: that drum your musician is carrying." The bridegroom had no trouble persuading the drummer to give the drum to the boy. The drummer knew he could easily buy another with the money he was going to get.
The boy now rushed home to his mother, beating his new drum, and told her how he got it, beginning with a piece of wood from the roadside.
The Tiger, the Brahman, and the Jackal « Result #3 on Mar 1, 2009, 9:07pm »
Once upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.
By chance a poor Brahman came by. "Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!" cried the tiger.
"Nay, my friend," replied the Brahman mildly, "you would probably eat me if I did."
"Not at all!" swore the tiger with many oaths; "on the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!"
Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, "What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!"
In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger's action.
So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree what it thought of the matter, but the pipal tree replied coldly, "What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper--be a man!"
Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered, "You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!"
The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion.
"My dear sir," said the road, "how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!"
On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, "Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!"
The Brahman told him all that had occurred. "How very confusing!" said the jackal, when the recital was ended; "would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?"
The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.
"It's very odd," said he, sadly, "but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment."
So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.
"You've been away a long time!" growled the savage beast, "but now let us begin our dinner."
"Our dinner!" thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright; "what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!"
"Give me five minutes, my lord!" he pleaded, "in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits."
The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.
"Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!" cried the jackal, wringing its paws. "Let me see! how did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger came walking by--"
"Pooh!" interrupted the tiger, "what a fool you are! I was in the cage."
"Of course!" cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; "yes! I was in the cage--no I wasn't--dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see--the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by--no, that's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!"
"Yes, you shall!" returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal's stupidity; "I'll make you understand! Look here--I am the tiger--"
"Yes, my lord!"
"And that is the Brahman--"
"Yes, my lord!"
"And that is the cage--"
"Yes, my lord!"
"And I was in the cage--do you understand?"
"Yes--no--Please, my lord--"
"Well?" cried the tiger impatiently.
"Please, my lord!--how did you get in?"
"How!--why in the usual way, of course!"
"Oh, dear me!--my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?"
At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, "This way! Now do you understand how it was?"
"Perfectly!" grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, "and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!"
It was my first day as newcomer to Miss Hargrove¡¯s seventh grade. Past ¡°newcomer¡± experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat, expecting to be shunned.
Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax.wow power leveling My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn¡¯t long before the class nerd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou English. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim, prissy young girl with a stern visage and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn¡¯t ugly -- not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty,wow gold but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but -- she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched, frilly blouse completed the image of a complete dork. The girls¡¯ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone.
After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school.wow power leveling I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative. We waited. For what, I didn¡¯t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn.
Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting began - rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I¡¯d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader.
I was not proud. Something inside me hurt.wow power leveling If you¡¯ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.
Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and -- without a tear shed or retort given -- off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street.
I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father.wow gold Respectful of Mary Lou¡¯s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes -- shining with both grief and pride -- followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn¡¯t speak a word.
No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father&rsqu
o;s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity.wow gold I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.
Encouraging Words « Result #5 on Feb 18, 2009, 4:18am »
Someone said that encouragement is simply reminding a person of the "shoulders" he's standing on, wow power leveling,the heritage he's been given. That's what happened when a young man, the son of a star baseball player, was drafted by one of the minor league teams. As hard as he tried, his first season was disappointing, and by midseason he expected to be released any day. The coaches were bewildered by his failure because he possessed all the characteristics of a superb athlete, wow power leveling,but he couldn't seem to incorporate those advantages into a coordinated effort. He seemed to have become disconnected from his potential.
His future seemed darkest one day when he had already struck out his first time at bat. Then he stepped up to the batter's box again and quickly ran up two strikes. The catcher called a time-out and trotted to the pitcher's mound for a conference. While they were busy the umpire, wow power leveling,standing behind the plate, spoke casually to the boy.
Then play resumed, the next pitch was thrown - and the young man knocked it out of the park. That was the turning point.wow power leveling,From then on, he played the game with a new confidence and power that quickly drew the attention of the parent team, wow gold,and he was called up to the majors.
On the day he was leaving for the city, one of his coaches asked him what had caused such a turnaround. The young man replied it was the encouraging remark the umpire had made that day when his baseball career had seemed doomed.
"He told me I reminded him of all the times he had stood behind my dad in the batter's box," the boy explained.wow gold,"He said I was holding the bat just the way Dad had held it. And he told me, 'I can see his genes in you; you have your father's arms.' After that, whenever I swung the bat, wow gold,I just imagined I was using Dad's arms instead of my own."
Having a ready-formed plan « Result #6 on Feb 18, 2009, 4:18am »
there was once an artist whose name was Wen Tong. He was famous for his bamboo drawings.wow power leveling, A lot of people asked him for one of his bamboo drawings.
People wondered why Wen Tong could draw so well. Actually, Wen Tong loved bamboo so much he had grown various bamboo around his house. No matter what season it was and no matter whether it was sunny or rainy,wow power leveling, he used to go to the bamboo forest to observe how they were growing.
He carefully observed the length and breadth of the bamboo poles as well as the shapes and colors of the leaves. Whenever he found something new, he went back to his study and drew what was in his mind on paper. wow power leveling,After a long time, the images of the bamboo in different seasons, under different weather conditions and at different moments were deeply imprinted in his mind. Whenever he stood before the paper and picked up a painting brush,wow gold, various forms of bamboo came into his mind at once. So, every time he was drawing bamboo he appeared confident and at ease. All the bamboo he drew looked like real.
When people spoke highly of his paintings,wow gold,he always said modestly that he had just put the images of the bamboo imprinted in his mind in the paper.
the phrase "having the images of bamboo ready in one's bosom" means having plans or designs ready in one's mind before doing a certain job so that its success is guaranteed. wow gold,It also means being calm and sober-minded in dealing with things.
Watching Me Go « Result #7 on Feb 18, 2009, 4:17am »
The crayoned picture shows a first-grade boy with shoebox arms, stovepipe legs and tears squirting like melon seeds.wow power leveling, The carefully printed caption reads, "I am so sad." It is my son Brendan's drawing-journal entry for September 19. Brendan cried his first day of school, dissolving at his classroom door like a human bouillon cube. wow power leveling,The classroom jiggled with small faces, wet-combed hair, white Nikes and new backpacks. Something furry scuttled around in a big wire cage. Garden flowers rested on Mrs. Phillips's desk. Mrs. Phillips has halo status at our school. She is a kind, soft-spoken master of the six-year-old mind. But even she could not coax Brendan to a seat. Most kids sat eagerly awaiting tool and Jane and two plus two. Not my Brendan. His eyes streamed, his nose ran and he clung to me like a snail on a strawberry. I plucked him off and escaped. It wasn't that Brendan didn't like school. He was the kid at the preschool Christmas concert who knew everyone's part and who performed "Jingle Bells" with operatic passion. Brendan just didn't like being apart from me. wow power leveling,We'd had some good times, he and I, in those preschool years. We played at the pool. We skated on quiet morning ice. We sampled half the treat tray at weekly neighbourhood coffee parties. Our time together wasn't exactly material for a picture book, but it was time together. And time moves differently for a child. Now in Grade 1, Brendan was faced with five hours of wondering what I was doing with my day. wow gold,Brendan always came home for lunch, the only one of his class not to eat at his desk. But once home, fed and hugged, a far-away look of longing would crease his gentle brow--he wanted to go back to school to play! So I walked him back, waited with him until he spotted someone he knew, then left. He told me once that he watched me until he couldn't see me anymore, so I always walked fast and never looked back. One day when I took Brendan back after lunch, he spied a friend, kissed me goodbye, and scampered right off. I went, feeling pleased for him, celebrating his new independence, his entry into the first-grade social loop. And I felt pleased for myself, a sense of well-being and accomplishment that I, too, had entered the mystic circle of parents whose children separated easily.
Then--I don't know why--I glanced back. And there he was.wow gold, The playground buzzed all around him, kids everywhere, and he stood, his chin tucked close, his body held small, his face intent but not sad, blowing me kisses. So brave, so unashamed, so completely loving, Brendan was watching me go.
No book on mothering could have prepared me for that quick, raw glimpse into my child's soul. My mind leaped 15 years ahead to him packing boxes and his dog grown old and him saying, "Dry up, Mom. It's not like I'm leaving the country." In my mind I tore up the card every mother signs saying she'll let her child go when he's ready. I looked
at my Brendan, wow gold,his shirt tucked in, every button done up, his toes just turned in a bit, and I though, "OK, you're six for me forever. Just try to grow up, I dare you." With a smile I had to really dig for, I blew him a kiss, turned and walked away.
Grandpas Valentine « Result #8 on Feb 12, 2009, 8:06pm »
I was the only family member living close by, so I received the initial call from the nursing home. Grandpa was failing rapidly.wow power leveling I should come. There was nothing to do but hold his hand. ¡°I love you, Grandpa. Thank you for always being there for me.¡± And silently, I released him.
Memories...memories...six days a week,wow power leveling the farmer in the old blue shirt and bib overalls caring for those Hereford cattle he loved so much...on hot summer days lifting bales of hay from the wagon, plowing the soil, planting the corn and beans and harvesting them in the fall...always working from dawn to dusk. Survival demanded the work, work, work.
But on Sundays, after the morning chores were done, he put on his gray suit and hat. Grandma wore her wine-colored dress and the ivory beads, and they went to church. There was little other social life. Grandpa and Grandma were quiet, peaceful, unemotional people who every day did what they had to do. He was my grandpa -- he had been for 35 years. It was hard to picture him in any other role.
The nurse apologized for having to ask me so soon to please remove Grandpa¡¯s things from the room. It would not take long.wow gold There wasn¡¯t much. Then I found it in the top drawer of his nightstand. It looked like a very old handmade valentine. What must have been red paper at one time was a streaked faded pink. A piece of white paper had been glued to the center of the heart. On it, penned in Grandma¡¯s handwriting, were these words:
TO LEE FROM HARRIET
With All My Love,
February 14, 1895
Are you alive? Real? Or are you the most beautiful dream that wow power leveling I have had in years? Are you an angel -- or a figment of my imagination? Someone I fabricated to fill the void? To soothe the pain? Where did you find the time to listen? How could you understand?
You made me laugh when my heart was crying. You took me dancing when I couldn¡¯t take a step. You helped me set new goals when I was dying. You showed me dew drops and I had diamonds. You brought me wildflowers and I had orchids. You sang to me and angelic choirs burst forth in song.wow gold You held my hand and my whole being loved you. You gave me a ring and I belonged to you. I belonged to you and I have experienced all.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I read the words. I pictured the old couple I had always known. It¡¯s difficult to imagine your grandparents in any other role than that. What I read was so very beautiful and sacred.wow gold Grandpa had kept it all those years. Now it is framed on my dresser, a treasured part of family history.
Are You God? « Result #9 on Feb 12, 2009, 8:06pm »
One cold evening during the holiday season, a little boy about six or seven was standing out in front of a store window.wow power leveling The little child had no shoes on and his clothes were mere rags. A young woman passing by saw the little boy and could read the longing in his pale blue eyes. She took the child by the hand and led him into the store.wow gold There she bought him new shoes and a complete suit of warm clothing.
They came back outside into the street and the woman said to the child,wow power leveling,wow gold ¡°Now you can go home and have a very happy holiday.¡±
The little boy looked up at her and asked, wow power leveling ¡°are you God, Ma¡¯am?¡±
She smiled down at him and replied, ¡°No son, I¡¯m just one of His children.¡±
The little boy then said, wow gold ¡°I knew you had to be some relation.¡± In this hustle-bustle world we live in it's so much easier to charge something on a credit card rather than give a gift of the heart. And gifts of the heart are especially needed during the holidays. A few years ago, I began to prepare my children for the fact that Christmas that year was going to be a small one. Their response was, "Yeah sure, Mom, we've heard that before!" I had lost my credibility because I had told them the same thing the previous year, while going through a divorce.wow power leveling But then I had gone out and charged every credit card to the max. I even found some creative financing techniques to pay for their stocking stuffers. This year was definitely going to be different, but they weren't buying it. A week before Christmas, I asked myself, What do I have that will make this Christmas special? In all the houses we had lived in before the divorce, I had always made time to be the interior decorator. I had learned how to wallpaper, to lay wooden and ceramic tile, to sew curtains out of sheets and even more. But in this rental house there was little time for decorating and a lot less money. Plus, I was angry about this ugly place, I with its read and orange carpets and turquoise and green walls. I refused to put money into it. Inside me, and inner voice of hurt pride shouted, We're not going to be here that long! Nobody else seemed to mind about the house except my daughter Lisa, who always tried to make her room her special place. It was time to express my talents.wow gold I called my ex-husband and asked that he buy a specific bedspread for Lisa. Then I bought the sheets to match. On Christmas Eve, I spent $15 on a gallon of paint. I also bought the prettiest stationery I'd ever seen. My goal was simple: I'd paint and we and stay busy until Christmas morning, so I wouldn't have time to feel sorry for myself on such a special family holiday. That night, I gave each of the children three pieces of stationery with envelopes. At the top of each page were the words, "What I love about my sister Mia," "What I love about my brother Kris," What I love about my sister Lisa" and "What I love about my brother Erik." The kids were 16, 14, wow power leveling 10 and 8, and it took some convincing on my part to assure them that they could find just one thing they liked about each other. As they wrote in privacy, I went to my bedroom and wrapped their few store-bought gifts. When I returned to the kitchen, the children had finished their letters to one another. Each name was written on the outside of the envelope. We exchanged hugs and goodnight kisses and they hurried off to bed. Lisa was given special permission to sleep in my bed, with the promise not to peek until Christmas morning. I got started in the wee hours of Christmas morn,wow gold I finished the curtains, painted the walls and stepped back to admire my masterpiece.
Wait-why not put rainbows and clouds on the walls to match the sheets? So out came my makeup brushes and sponges, and at 5 A.M. I was finished. Too exhausted to think about being a poor "broken home," as statistics said,wow gold I went to my room and found Lisa spread-eagled in my bed. I decided I couldn't sleep with arms and legs all over me, so I gently lifted her up and tiptoed her into her room. As I laid her head on the pillow, she said, "Mommy, is it morning yet?" "No sweetie, keep your eyes closed unit Santa comes." I awoke that morning with a bright whisper in my ear. "Wow, Mommy, it's beautiful!" Later, we all got up and sat around the tree and opened the few wrapped presents. Afterward the children were given their three envelopes. We read the words with teary eyes and red noses. Then we got to "the baby of the family's" notes. Erik, at 8, wasn't expecting to hear anything nice. His brother had written: "What I love about my brother Erik is that he's not afraid of anything." Mia had written,wow power leveling "What I love about my brother Erik is he can talk to anybody!" Lisa had written, "What I love about my brother Erik he can climb trees higher than anyone!" I felt a gentle tug at my sleeve, then a small hand cupped around my ear and Erik whispered, "Gee, Mom, I didn't even know they like me!" In the worst of times, creativity and resourcefulness had given us the best of times. I'm now back on my feet financially, and we've had many "big" Christmases with lots of presents under the tree¡but when asked which Christmas is our favorite, we all remember that one.
Dance With Me « Result #10 on Feb 12, 2009, 8:06pm »
When we¡¯re young and we dream of love and fulfillment, we think perhaps of moon-drenched Parisian nights or walks along the beach at sunset.
No one tells us that the greatest moments of a lifetime are fleeting,wow power leveling unplanned and nearly always catch us off guard.
Not long ago, wow power leveling as I was reading a bedtime story to my seven-year-old daughter, Annie, I became aware of her focused gaze. She was starring at me with a faraway, trancelike expression. Apparently, completing The Tale of Samuel Whiskers was not as important as we first thought.
I asked what she was thinking about.
¡°Mommy,¡± she whispered,wow gold ¡°I just can¡¯t stop looking at your pretty face.¡±
I almost dissolved on the spot.
Little did she know how many trying moments the glow of her sincerely loving statement would carry me through over the following years.
Not long after, wow power leveling I took my four-year-old son to an elegant department store, where the melodic notes of a classic love song drew us toward a tuxedoed musician playing a grand piano. Sam and I sat down on a marble bench nearby, and he seemed as transfixed by the lilting theme as I was.
I didn¡¯t realize that Sam had stood up next to me until he turned,wow gold took my face in his little hands and said, ¡°Dance with me.¡±
If only those women strolling under the Paris moon knew the joy of such an invitation made by a round-cheeked boy with baby teeth.[url=http://www.wotlkgold.net]wow gold[/url Although shoppers openly chuckled, grinned and pointed at us as we glided and whirled around the open atrium, I would not have traded a dance with such a charming young gentleman if I¡¯d been offered the universe.
Re: The Aftermath « Result #11 on Oct 5, 2008, 10:55pm »
I just reach forwards and lazily rested my dail across her back. I nodded slightly. You? I replied. I rubbed my face down her side, trying to help itch her side which was probably just as itchy as mine. When I felt little mud against the side of my dail I looked at her pelt. Most of the mud was off of her. How'd you get clean? I asked as I let my crown lay across her back once more. Orbs looked back to see Tango's features in case she gave another nonvocal answer or question.
I shifted my weight onto my sore pillar to show her it didn't hurt, though it did sting a bit but it was nothing to slow me down now. With a small sigh, I closed my orbs for a few moments before opening them again to watch Tango.
Re: The Aftermath « Result #12 on Oct 5, 2008, 10:32pm »
One eye drifted open when I heard the nicker. I knew who it was and that I was the only one near enough to call, but I still didn't fully awaken until I was sure. It was a habit formed living in the herd for such a long time. My kissers parted as I yawned and took off at a qucik lope from a standstill. I slowed to a jog as I drifted closer to Rage and finally landed facing him. I reached out and gently pressed my velvets against his shoulder, silently asking if his limp had gotten better. I knew he'd been trying to hide it, but I was still a fae; I was keen to injury from watching for it in my foals. You alright? I studied his muddy coat and my expression held a blank look. It didn't really dawn on me that he had no way to fix his appearance. All I knew was that I managed to clean up well, but it's probably because I'm a girl.
Give me wisdom, give me strength. Give me faith above all lengths. Heaven help me. Heaven help me 'cause I can't help myself. Heaven Help Me Gretchen Wilson
The Aftermath « Result #13 on Oct 5, 2008, 10:11pm »
Dry lips lightly touched the clear water's smooth edge. With some suction water went though my kissers and down my throat. It seemed like hours as I drank the murky water. My bodice was still coated in now dried mud. I hadn't bothered to try and clean myself, all the water was still muddy. If I did, it would only get even worse.
My limp was gone now, only a small pain remain but I was able to hid it well. I glanced over my withers, orbs searching for Tango now. Perhaps she had drifted from my side? She couldn't be too far away. I let loose a small nicker, hoping to call her to me. The water I had found wasn't as muddy as the others. The current was faster so the mud was mostly washed away from the bottom yet the taste of the clay mud was still obvious in the cool water.
Re: Travelin'.. « Result #14 on Aug 27, 2008, 10:59pm »
I nodded absent-mindedly. My pillars started to move upon their own accord as I started to make my way over to the land he had indicated. My joints begged me to simply lay down all ready but I had to ignore the pain for now. I shuffled on, my daggers dragging slightly in the mud and my dail hung slightly low with heavy, drooping eye lids.
Finally the mud became noticeably thinner and my orbs opened slightly bigger. My gaze took in the surroundings. A small stream, dirty as the mud, and a slightly broken tree where the land was slightly drier.
With a yawn I went to a broken tree and leaned against it before I took a small step away and laid down, only glancing up once to look at Soldier before my heavy eye lids won out and I was nearly forced into a light slumber.
Re: Travelin'.. « Result #15 on Aug 27, 2008, 10:45pm »
I breathed a sigh of relief as I pressed my crania into her nape and nuzzled her. I stayed in that spot for a moment before realizing that we had to move quickly. I turned and looked into the distance. There's hardly any mud at all over that way. I motioned towards a clearing with my muzzle. Just past that, there's some water. It's full of mud too, but it's better than nothing when we're this mud covered. I looked at both of our pelts. This was probably the closest to a normal color that had ever been. Pink, green, white, and even bright red, but I'd never been such a dark shade of brown before. I almost started to like the change, but I knew it wasn't healthy, nor would it last if it started to rain again.
Give me wisdom, give me strength. Give me faith above all lengths. Heaven help me. Heaven help me 'cause I can't help myself. Heaven Help Me Gretchen Wilson
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