The villagers came to the farm and said, ‘My, that’s a great misfortune. Your son has broken his leg: now he can’t help you in the fields.’

The farmer said, ‘It is neither a fortune nor a misfortune.’

A day later, the government troops came to the village looking for young men to conscript into the army. They had to leave the boy behind because his leg was broken. Again, the villagers came to the farm and said, ‘My, that’s a great fortune.’

The farmer replied, ‘It is neither a fortune nor a misfortune.’

Then one day the farmer’s only horse jumped the fence and ran away. The villagers came to the farm and said, ‘What a great misfortune that your horse has run away. 

The farmer said, ‘It is neither a fortune nor a misfortune.’

Two or three days later, the horse came back with a dozen wild horses following behind him.

 The villagers came to him and said, ‘It’s a great fortune that your horse came back with twelve others.’

The farmer replied, ‘It is neither a fortune nor a misfortune.’

Lao Tzu

The farmer in this story understood that nothing is of greater importance than anything else until we give it importance.

What I’m getting at is that for years he was completely focused on his immediate goals and needs. Rarely had time to visit his kids; worked hard dawn til dusk and pushed himself intensely.

Well, I had the opportunity to spend time with him over the past week and while he’s still the same great friend – the heart attack has changed him and it’s a good thing.

He told me he’s no longer going to bust his butt for an extra buck in the bank, he’s going to appreciate life for what it has to offer. He’s going to be more available for his family and he’s going to enjoy each day to the best of his ability. AND he’s doing it!

BUT the coolest part was watching his self discipline and emotional control. The doctors told him not to push his heart over 90 BPM, so every time it reached that level no matter what he was doing he stopped. He accepted the doctor’s advice and he works with it – not against it. He also controls his emotions by accepting the frustration that his normal speed of 200 MPH is no longer attainable or at least right now and he lives with it and doesn’t fight it.

In any case, if you think that this type of behavior is easy to attain or is an obvious forgone conclusion that everyone just does it because they need to – just look in the cemetery. It’s tough to give up old ways regardless of what the implications might be.

The touchstone was a small pebble that could turn any common metal into pure gold. The writing explained that it was lying among thousands and thousands of other pebbles that looked exactly like it. But the secret was this: The real stone would feel warm, while ordinary pebbles are cold.

So the man sold his few belongings, bought some simple supplies, camped on the seashore, and began testing pebbles.

He knew that if he picked up ordinary pebbles and threw them down again because they were cold, he might pick up the same pebble hundreds of times. So, when he felt one that was cold, he threw it into the sea. He spent a whole day doing this but none of them was the touchstone. Yet he went on and on this way. Pick up a pebble. Cold – throw it into the sea. Pick up another. Throw it into the sea.

The days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months. One day, however, about mid-afternoon, he picked up a pebble and it was warm. He threw it into the sea before he realized what he had done. He had formed such a strong habit of throwing each pebble into the sea that when the one he wanted came along, he still threw it away.

So it is with opportunity. Unless we are vigilant, it’s easy to fail to recognize an opportunity when it is in hand and it’s just as easy to throw it away.

Author Unknown

That every day cast a ray of sunshine upon your life,

That every day the pot of gold at your rainbow came alive,

That every night empowered your dreams from a moon beam from a far,

Don’t you just wish?

That each day caressed your soul with the warmth of a gentle breeze,

That each day carried away the sadness you wear upon your sleeve,

That each night your wish arrived on the tail off a falling star,

Don’t you just wish?

That each day’s tears were whisked away on a rolling tide,

That each day a fluffy white cloud carried away your fears and pride,

That each night the love of your life would hold you in their arms,  

let go of the fiction and bask in the only thing that’s real – that will ever be real  – LOVE!

Right now 1/5 of Pakistan is under water and 97% of Pakistani people are Muslim. The country that is providing the most humanitarian aid is the USA and that is the best way to fight terrorism.

Really, if the West is seen as the good guys in this situation, they win the support of the masses over there, and that needs to be promoted.

Then it can be taken a step further. Just think if the US military allocated one minute of their annual defense budget towards education in an Islamic 3^rd world country like Indonesia – they could provide quality education for every child for one year.

Sure we will never be able to stop the current Islamic extremists, they’ve already been brain washed or should I say suffer from a lack of education. BUT if the Western World were to educate the children, and show them the West are the ones who are in fact improving their lives they would over time, certainly have enough education to question some of the misleading or inaccurate age old doctrines that now, appear to go unchallenged.  

And if you don’t think things will change with improved education, just look back at our Christian based history. In the 1950’s women here may not have worn hibayas, but they certainly weren’t treated as equals either. Check out the Guidelines for a 1950’s Housewife.

Oh ya one last thing. The Muslim people fighting for a mosque at Ground Zero in New York (if anything it does raise questions) are creating a great deal of negative press at a time that millions and millions of fellow Muslims in Pakistan don’t need it. Again it is the US (predominantly Christians) that comes to the aid of Muslims in crisis – just look back at the tsunami in Indonesia – the USA gave $902,000,000 where all Muslim countries together only gave $177,500,000.00 – not even one quarter.

This is a story I think needs to be told.

One day, he went for a trip to some distant areas of his country. When he came back to his palace, he complained that his feet were very sore. It was the first time that he had gone for such a long trip, and the road that he went on was very rough and stony.

So he ordered his people to cover every road of the entire country with leather.

Definitely, to do this job would require thousands of cows’ skin, and would cost a huge amount of money.

So one of his wise servants dared himself to suggest to the king, “Why do you want to spend all that unnecessary money? When you could just cut one little piece of leather and cover your feet?”

The king was surprised, but he later agreed to this suggestion, and made a “shoe” for himself.

The moral of the story: To make the world a better place – just change yourself. The world is just fine the way it is.

One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live.

They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?”

“It was great, Dad.”

“Did you see how poor people live?” the father asked.

“Oh yeah,” said the son.

“So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.

The son answered: “I saw that we have one dog and they had four. We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end. We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night. Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

“We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.

“We have servants who serve us, but they serve others. We buy our food, but they grow theirs.

“We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”

The boy’s father was speechless.

Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are.”

Now I just wonder when the day will come that we as parents find the courage to trust our children with the right to make their own choices based upon their own sense of self – without the need to push age old ideals, revered beliefs and our personal directives upon them.

Does Mommy or Daddy really know best?

Enjoy! 

The Price of a Miracle

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.                                               

She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.                                                                 

Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to the drug store, with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.                                                

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing… She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!                                                                   

“And what do you want?” the pharmacist asked. “Can you see, I’m talking to my brother from Chicago, whom I haven’t seen in ages,” he said without waiting for a reply to his question.                         

“Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,” Tess answered back. “He’s really, really sick …….. and I want to buy a miracle.”                                                                  

“I beg your pardon?” said the pharmacist.                                 

“His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?”                                                                    

“We don’t sell miracles here, little girl. I’m sorry but I can’t help you,” the pharmacist said, softening a little.                            

“Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.”                                

The pharmacist’s brother was a well dressed man.  He stooped down and asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does your brother need?”   

“I don’t know,” Tess replied with her eyes welling up.  “I just know he’s  really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation… But my Daddy can’t pay for it, so I want to use my money.”                                       

“How much do you have?” asked the man from Chicago                        

“One dollar and eleven cents,” Tess answered, barely audibly. “And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.”    

“Well, what a coincidence,” smiled the man. “A dollar and eleven cents is the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.”                            

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand, he grasped her mitten and said, “Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents.  Let’s see if I have the miracle you need.”        

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed, free of charge and it wasn’t long until Andrew was home again and doing well…                        

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.                                                    

“That surgery,” her Mom whispered, “was a real miracle.  I wonder how much it would have cost?”                                                                                                                                   

Tess smiled.  She knew exactly how much a miracle cost….one dollar and eleven cents….plus the faith of a little child.                                                                                             

After the divorce, her teenage daughter became increasingly rebellious.

It culminated late one night when the police called to tell her that she had to come to the police station to pick up her daughter, who was arrested for drunk driving.

They didn’t speak until the next afternoon.

Mom broke the tension by giving her daughter a small gift-wrapped box.

Her daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a small piece of a rock.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Cute Mom, what’s this for?”

“Here’s the card,” Mom said.

Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks.

She got up and gave her mom a big hug as the card fell to the floor.

On the card were these words:

“This rock is more than 200 million years old. That’s how long it will take before I give up on you.”

 Author Unknown, Source Unknown