Getting Well


The elderly caretaker of a peaceful lonely cemetery received a check every month from a woman, an invalid in a hospital in a nearby city. The check was to buy fresh flowers for the grave of her son, who had been killed in an automobile accident a couple years before.

One day a car drove into the cemetery and stopped in front of the caretaker’s ivy-covered administration building. A man was driving the car. In the back seat sat an elderly lady, pale as death, her eyes half-closed.

The lady is too ill to walk,” the driver told the caretaker. “Would you mind coming with us to her son’s graveshe has a favor to ask of you. You see, she is dying, and she has asked me, as an old family friend, to bring her out here for one last look at her son’s grave.”

Is this Mrs. Wilson?” the caretaker asked. The man nodded.

Yes, I know who she is. She’s the one who has been sending me a check every month to put flowers on her son’s grave.” The caretaker followed the man to the car and got in beside the woman. She was frail and obviously near death. But there was something else about her face, the caretaker noted – the eyes dark and sullen, hiding some deep, long-lasting hurt.

I am Mrs. Wilson,” she whispered. “Every month for the past two years –“

Yes, I know. I have attended to it, just as you asked.”

I have come here today,” she went on, “because the doctors tell me I have only a few weeks left. I shall not be sorry to go. There is nothing left to live for. But before I die, I wanted to come here for one last look and to make arrangements with you to keep on placing the flowers on my son’s grave.”

She seemed exhausted – the effort to speak sapping her strength. The car made its way down a narrow, gravel road to the grave. When they reached the grave, the woman, with what appeared to be great effort, raised herself slightly and gazed out the window at her son’s tombstone. There was no sound during the moments that followed – only the chirping of the birds in the tall, old trees scattered among the graves.

Finally, the caretaker spoke. “You know, Ma’am, I was always sorry you kept sending the money for the flowers.”

The woman seemed at first not to hear. Then slowly she turned toward him. “Sorry?” she whispered. “Do you realize what you are saying – my son . . .”

Yes, I know,” he said gently. “But, you see, I belong to a church group that every week visits hospitals, asylums, prisons. There are live people in those places who need cheering up, and most of them love flowers – they can see them and smell them. That grave –“ he said, “over there – there’s no one living, no one to see and smell the beauty of the flowers . . .” he looked away, his voice trailing off.

The woman did not answer, but just kept staring at the grave of her son. After what seemed like hours, she lifted her hand and the man drove them back to the caretaker’s building. He got out and without a word they drove off. I’ve offended her, he thought. I shouldn’t have said what I did.

Some months later, however, he was astonished to have another visit from the woman. This time there was no driver. She was driving the car herself! The caretaker could hardly believe his eyes.

You were right,” she told him, “about the flowers. That’s why there have been no more checks. After I got back to the hospital, I couldn’t get your words out of my mind. So I started buying flowers for the others in the hospital who didn’t have any. It gave me such a feeling of joy to see how much they enjoyed them – and from a total stranger. It made them happy, but more than that, it made me happy.”

The doctors don’t know, “ she went on, “what is suddenly making me well, but I do!”

Moral of the story?

It depends….many things can be gleaned from this story, among them is that love never fails. Death is never certain. And when you send joy, life, love, peace, your time or just a smile…… comes back to you. Good begets good, and bad begets bad. Don’t waste time of things that are long past. People around you are hurting, and some lonely. Be there for them. Make yourself available and let God use you. If you’re looking at death; you’re looking in the wrong direction. If you’re facing a problem, then your back is turned to the answer. If things in your life seem to be dying; God has a better plan. Open your eyes to see it so you can walk thereby in it.


Consider the Ant


One morning I wasted nearly an hour watching a tiny ant carry a huge feather across my back terrace. Several times it was confronted by obstacles in its path and after a momentary pause it would make the necessary detour. At one point the ant had to negotiate a crack in the concrete about 10mm wide. After a brief contemplation the ant laid the feather over the crack, walked across it and picked up the feather on the other side then continued on its way.

I was fascinated by the ingenuity of this ant, one of God’s smallest creatures. It served to reinforce the miracle of creation. Here was a minute insect, lacking in size yet equipped with a brain to reason, explore, discover and overcome. But this ant, like the two-legged co-residents of this planet, also shares human failings. After some time the ant finally reached its destination – a flower bed at the end of the terrace and a small hole that was the entrance to its underground home. And it was here that the ant finally met its match. How could that large feather possibly fit down that small hole? Of course it couldn’t. So the ant, after all this trouble and exercising great ingenuity, overcoming problems all along the way, just abandoned the feather and went home.

The ant had not thought the problem through before it began its epic journey and in the end the feather was nothing more than a burden. Isn’t life like that? People worry about their family, people worry about money or the lack of it, many worry about work, about where they live, about all sorts of things. These are all burdens – the things we pick up along life’s path and lug them around the obstacles and over the crevasses that life will bring, only to find that at the destination they are useless and you can’t take them with you.

Sand or Stone

sand or stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey, they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, he wrote in the sand:

Today my best friend slapped me in the face.”

They kept on walking, until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but his friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

Today my best friend saved my life.”

The friend, who had slapped and saved his best friend, asked him, “After I slapped you, you wrote in the sand, and now, you write on a stone, why?”

The other friend replied: “When someone hurts us, we should write it down in sand, where the winds of forgiveness can erase it away, but when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.”

Moral of the story?

Learn to write your hurts in the sand and to carve your blessings in stone.


A Carrot, An Egg, And A Cup Of Coffee


Something to think about given all the hard times we have had, and still more trials yet to come. I hope you ponder this today. Have a blessed one!! -“….ofthestory.”

What can a carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee teach a young woman tired of fighting and struggling with adversity and heartaches? Read on and find out the lesson the young woman received from her mother.

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as when one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.

She let them sit and boil; without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what you see.”

Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, “What does it mean, mother?”

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

However, the ground coffee beans were unique. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water. “Which are you?” she asked her daughter.

When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?

Think of this: “Which am I?”

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor.

If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest you place your faith in God speaking to your mountains (Matthew 21:21) and you elevate yourself to another level?

So, how do you handle adversity?

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

A little to add here. I once heard a minister say that “The world is hard, it will mold you. But, you get to choose the mold.”

The Paradox


The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy it less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray much less. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love bad things and hate good things.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life, not life to years. We’ve been to the depths of the ocean and discovered new creatures, but still have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We’ve looked to space, but not cannot see inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things. We’ve supposedly cleaned up the air, but polluted our souls. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more information streams than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; big men, and small character; steep profits, and shallow relationships. These are days of two incomes, but more divorce; fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill and none that heal. It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or walk away.

What will you do? I tell you what……….Read this again and repost this to your page! 🙂

Moral of the story?

Not really.

But I would remind you to spend some time with your loved ones. Say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, and teach that little person the right way to go, because one day that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Hold hands and cherish the moment with someone you love, slow down and take a moment to look around you. Take a moment to thank God for everything good in your life, recognize that God is God, and you’re not Him. Give time to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. And, what’s more? Share the truths you have learned from your time with God. You’re blessed! Go be a blessing!

Collection Of Marbles

collection of Marbles

A boy and a girl were playing together. The boy had a collection of marbles. The girl had some sweets with her.

The boy told the girl that he will give her all his marbles in exchange for her sweets. The girl agreed. The boy kept the biggest and the most beautiful marbles aside and gave the rest to the girl. The girl gave him all her sweets as she had promised.

That night, the girl slept peacefully. But the boy couldn’t sleep as he kept wondering if the girl had hidden some sweets from him the way he had hidden his best marbles.

Moral of the Story?

Sure. If you don’t give your hundred percent in a relationship, you’ll always keep doubting if the other person has given his/her hundred percent..

This is applicable for any relationship like love, employer-employee relationship etc. Give your 100% to everything you do and sleep peacefully.

Made a Difference….

It Did to That one

As a man walked a desolate beach one cold, gray morning he began to see another figure, far in the distance. Slowly the two approached each other, and he could make out a local native who kept leaning down, picking something up and throwing it out into the water. Time and again he hurled things into the ocean.

As the distance between them continued to narrow, the man could see that the native was picking up starfish that had been washed upon the beach and, one at a time, was throwing them back into the water.

Puzzled, the man approached the native and asked what he was doing. “I’m throwing these starfish back into the ocean. You see, it’s low tide right now and all of these starfish have been washed up onto the shore. If I don’t throw them back into the sea, they’ll die up here from lack of oxygen.”

But there must be thousands of starfish on this beach,” the man replied. “You can’t possibly get to all of them. There are just too many. And this same thing is probably happening on hundreds of beaches all up and down this coast. Can’t you see that you can’t possibly make a difference?”

The local native smiled, bent down and picked up another starfish, and as he threw it back into the sea he replied, “Made a difference to that one!”

Moral of the Story?

Every little thing we do makes a difference; it may not be apparent at first but the fruit of our good labor will one day be recognized and rewarded. Of course, not everything we do makes a good difference. This is where discernment comes in. Decide today to make a good difference in someone’s life today- a kind word; a kind act.