tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717274938971785662024-03-18T21:23:39.395-07:00THE CRAZY LIFEELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-894313693932987282013-10-02T19:58:00.001-07:002013-10-02T19:58:50.614-07:00PERSONALITY TREES<p><font size="3"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-nGdEzZbWncQ/UkzdZwc2MfI/AAAAAAAAAso/3gAI1KnCM8I/s1600-h/personality%252520tree%252520%252528has%252520story%252529%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="personality tree (has story)" border="0" alt="personality tree (has story)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-br3_z43AHdc/UkzdaYEaCqI/AAAAAAAAAsw/5cMBsxNTijw/personality%252520tree%252520%252528has%252520story%252529_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="313" height="333" /></a></font></p> <p><font size="3">Look at the trees and choose the one that is immediately most appealing to you. Don’t think about it too long, just choose, and find out what your choice says about your personality. There's nothing scientific about this. It's just for <strong>FUN</strong>. The results . . . </font></p> <p><font size="3">1. You are a generous and moral (<em>not to confuse with moralizing</em>) person. You always work on self-improvement. You are very ambitious and have very high standards. People might think that communicating with you is difficult, but for you, it isn't easy to be who you are. You work very hard but you are not in the least selfish. You work because you want to improve the world. You have a great capacity to love people until they hurt you. But even after they do. . . you keep loving. Very few people can appreciate everything you do as well as you deserve. </font></p> <p><font size="3">2. You are a fun, honest person. You are very responsible and like taking care of others. You believe in putting in an honest day's work and accept many work-related responsibilities. You have a very good personality and people come to trust you easily. You are bright, witty and fast-thinking. You always have an interesting story to tell. </font></p> <p><font size="3">3.You are a smart and thoughtful person. You are a great thinker. Your thoughts and ideas are the most important. You like to think about your theories and views alone. You are an introvert. You get along with those who likes to think and learn. You spend a lot of time, thinking about morality. You are trying to do what is right, even if the majority of society does not agree with you. </font></p> <p><font size="3">4. You are perceptive and philosophical person. You are a unique, one soul of your kind. Next to you there's no one even slightly similar to you. You are intuitive and a bit quirky. You are often misunderstood, and it hurts you. You need personal space. Your creativity needs to be developed, it requires respect of others. You are a person who clearly sees the light and dark sides of life. You are very emotional. </font></p> <p><font size="3">5. You are self-assured and in charge. You are very independent. Your guiding principle in life is 'I'll do it my way.'. You are very self-reliant and know how to stay strong for yourself and the people you Love. You know exactly what you want and are not afraid of pursuing your dreams. The only thing you demand from people is honesty. You are strong enough to accept the truth. </font></p> <p><font size="3">6. You are kind and sensitive. People relate to you very well. You have many friends and you love helping them. You have this warm and bright aura that makes people feel good when they are around you. Every day, you think about what you can do to improve yourself. You want to be interesting, insightful and unique. More than anybody else in the world, you need to love. You are even ready to love those who don't love you back. </font></p> <p><font size="3">7. You are happy and unflappable. You are a very sensitive and understanding person. You are a great listener who know how to be non-judgmental. You believe that everybody has their own journey in life. You are open to new people and events. You are highly resistant to stress and rarely worry. Normally, you are very relaxed. You always manage to have a good time and never lose your way. </font></p> <p><font size="3">8. You are charming and energetic. You are a fun person who knows how to make people laugh. You live in a state of harmony with the universe. You are spontaneous and enthusiastic. You never say no to an adventure. Often, you end up surprising and even shocking people. But that's just how you are. . . You always remain true to yourself. You have many interests and if something proves of interest to you, you will not rest until you acquire a profound knowledge of this area. </font></p> <p><font size="3">9. You are optimistic and lucky. You believe that life is a gift and you try to achieve as much as possible and put this gift to the best use possible. You are very proud of your achievements. You are ready to stick by the people you care about through thick and thin. You have a very healthy approach to life. The glass is (<em>at least</em>) half full for you. You use any opportunity to forgive, learn, and grow because you believe that life is too short to do otherwise.</font></p> <p><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesig.png" /></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-80003367830524410192013-09-07T16:54:00.001-07:002013-09-07T16:54:45.105-07:00TWO ANIMALS<p><font size="3">In every man there are two animals that live inside of him. One animal called hate and the other called love. <br />They both are fighting for control and the thing that we need to understand is that whatever animal we feed the most will be in control. <br />So if we feed hate, hate will dominate our lives and ultimately cause heartache and destruction to those who are around us. <br />So we need to feed the animal called love and allow it to control our every action. If we will allow love to lead us and control us we will leave a very powerful legacy for the next generation to follow. <br />We must never allow hate to get a strong hold within our hearts because it will cause a decease that is far worse than cancer It will cause us to die from the inside out and make everyone to to stir clear of us. <br />We must let love kill the animal called hate because there is nothing else that can get ride of hate other than love. <br />So today where there is hate let love choke it out. For if we all love one another as ourselves we will change this world from hate to love.</font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-33964304080509554362013-08-15T17:01:00.001-07:002013-08-15T17:01:05.703-07:00THE MOST DIFFICULT…<p>For days now I have been trying to find the right words--- the ones that truly express how I am feeling……My <u><strong>Most Beautiful and Loving Mother</strong></u> has passed away to be with my Dad in Heaven….. I am angry that she is gone…hurt….lonely….confused….relieved….scared…troubled….sad……broken.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-yhplrNOqBOw/Ug1rvkxdoBI/AAAAAAAAAr8/mJYwnsjeZ3c/s1600-h/MOM%252527S%252520BEAUTIFUL%252520SMILE%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="MOM'S BEAUTIFUL SMILE" border="0" alt="MOM'S BEAUTIFUL SMILE" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Lxw2jmqBK2Y/Ug1rwLvbvCI/AAAAAAAAAsE/WsjDtyO0vtU/MOM%252527S%252520BEAUTIFUL%252520SMILE_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="164" height="244" /></a></p> <p>My mother’s passion in life was taking care of family. Before she had children she was a cosmetologist…..love to cut hair…that was her thing!!!! But more then that---with her family was <strong>ALWAYS</strong> first and foremost… the second she became pregnant with me---she gave up the life that she loved to raise and care for and love and guide her children. She was a stay at home mom….. She never stopped cooking, cleaning, loving, laughing, smiling and do all she could to make her husband and children comfortable and happy. She had the heaviest Spanish accent—if she was mad some people could not understand her….. I love the way she started to speak English at home but it always ended in her speaking Spanish….Of course Spanish was my first language---and it was spoken always in our home. She was such a perfect partner and wife to my Dad----always taking care of his every need….always being the ultimate  hostess for parties at our home…family reunions.</p> <p>They loved going to dances in the various clubs and associations they belong to-I have some beautiful memories of just watching them dance together---they fit like a pair of gloves-They always looked so sharp dressed up and dancing and did not care what was going on around them---they just danced… they also loved playing canasta….. and to highlight the evening my mother arguing that my dad cheated…..they loved it…they were never angry at each…but it almost seem to be a ritual. <br /></p> <p>I will so miss her accent----I will miss her calling me my brother’s name ---two kids and never could keep the names straight. She took care of my dad’s mom since I was in high school until the day she died some 28 years later. My Mom’s parents both had passed away by the time she was 10 years old….so her older sisters raised her. I will miss her talking about her sisters---I called them the mini ones---My mom was the tallest of her sisters—and she was only 5 feet tall maybe. I will miss her cooking immensely—that was her way of showing love---cooking and more cooking…she loved to feed people. I admired her Faith in God…it was constant unfailing and just poured out of her for all to see. I always said that God made my Mom an angel on earth to do what she does for others and just stay the humble and loving person she was. Her favorite sport was bowling----she belonged to several leagues throughout the years…won sooooo many trophies and patches…I loved it all…I always thought the bowling balls were too heavy for her—but there she was doing here lil approach and throwing that huge ball and striking away---just amazing!!</p> <p>After my father passed away---it hurt to see my mother—her smile seemed forced—she just wanted to be with him---he was her life----she felt so alone…Well Now She Is With Him—Dancing in the Heavens……</p> <p>I Will So Miss Her More Then Mere Words Could Express….<strong>I LOVE YOU MOM</strong>!!!!!</p> <p>June 9th 1922- July 23rd 2013 </p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-53274101718522694152013-07-13T16:29:00.001-07:002013-07-13T16:29:49.253-07:00GOD I MISS HIM!!!!<p><font color="#c0504d" size="3">Today—4 years ago I lost my father------the old man. I have called him old man for almost my whole life. <br />My siblings never did and no one else was allowed to – it was our connection…. </font></p> <p><font color="#c0504d" size="3">There are times I still find myself picking up the phone and wanting to call him—to just hear his voice—ask for his advice, tell him about my day…talk about family!!! That emptiness truly sucks --- there is nothing that can replace it or make it go away. The day my father passed away was the day my mother slowly gave up living. She is living with my brother and his family—I know her heart is broken—and there is nothing I can say to her to comfort her other than telling her I love her…. Sometimes that is just not enough.</font></p> <p><font color="#c0504d" size="3">I had a dream about him once----that he was at my front door – I hugged him sooooo tight –I could actually smell his aftershave lotion (<em>old spice</em>).. I could hear him in my head say it is okay!!! Then I woke up. That is what I am hanging onto.</font></p> <p><font color="#c0504d" size="3">I miss his business sense…… his poker games….. his domino matches with his friends…. and his lil veggie garden. I miss him because he is missing the beautiful woman that his grand daughter has grown to become. Her creative talents… her ideas. <br /></font></p> <p><font color="#c0504d" size="3"><strong>I miss him-----I miss him----I  miss him!!!! <br /></strong></font><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/PERSONAL%20PHOTOS/DAD-1.jpg" width="330" height="319" /></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-49742219435531267022013-06-24T22:32:00.000-07:002013-06-24T22:32:19.022-07:00UNSEEN RICHES<pre><tt><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">**Found This Short Story and Thought I would Share it Here!!!!!**
by Diana Reeves
Georgia, USA
Growing up, we didn't have much. Actually, we had very little. With
three little mouths to feed, my daddy worked as a janitor and then
farmed our own small field until dark. Daddy provided for us the best he
could, and mama made our clothes on her old sewing machine.
It was probably evident to all the teachers and kids at school just how
poor we were. Then came third grade, Mrs. Harper's class.
Mrs. Harper brought a huge box of toys to school to give to "needy"
children. Everyone was invited to bring some of their own toys from home
to put in the box. Needless to say, I had hardly any toys of my own.
By oh boy, did my eyes get *big* when I looked into that box. It was
like a dream world to me -- so many toys! Evidently Mrs. Harper saw the
look in my eyes, and although I never asked, she offered to let me pick
out two toys for myself from the box. I was so thankful and thought I
was the luckiest girl in the whole world!
When I got home I couldn't wait to show mama. She admired the toys and
asked where I got them. I told her about the box for the needy children
and that Mrs. Harper had let me pick two from the box!
Mama thought for a few seconds and in a very sweet way, said "No... no,
you can't keep them honey. You see, there are little children in the
world that don't have anything." She explained to me that those toys
were for "poor" children, and I had to return them to the box because it
wouldn't be right to keep them.
She wasn't angry or resentful that the teacher had let me pick them, she
just stated it as a matter of fact. Although I was disappointed I
couldn't keep the toys, I was somewhat proud to take them back. After
all, they were for the poor little children in the world.
So the next day, I took them back to the big box and explained to Mrs.
Harper why I couldn't keep them. With a smile, she said she understood.
Despite the obvious fact of how poor we were, my mama made me believe
differently. She made me see myself differently and made me proud of who
I was. From that point on, I always felt sorry for the poor, but never
considered myself that way.
Looking back now, I can see just how poor we really were. We had holes
in the floor, leaks in the roof, a freezing house, worn out shoes, few
clothes, and little food. We could have easily applied for welfare, but
my daddy wouldn't think of it. Our family was full of integrity and
proud of hard work.
Although my mama is long gone, her lessons have stayed with me through
life. We didn't have much money, but we were rich on love.</span></tt></pre>
ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-74817191739814654192013-05-05T20:35:00.001-07:002013-05-05T20:35:59.656-07:00CINCO DE MAYO<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cbqvO1m6kkjqp0ZQh6GeYGorqIhgzCkxFdEnTrKfGWt4VrrHplQZb7EKD2weEloiOAYRy9EgbieKLbaq64L2ytjHSfXMJVCnvRgnOQyTWoIIliMsmwyZXahEBRuByx5IhWe92KaH3kVB/s1600/cinco-de-mayo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6cbqvO1m6kkjqp0ZQh6GeYGorqIhgzCkxFdEnTrKfGWt4VrrHplQZb7EKD2weEloiOAYRy9EgbieKLbaq64L2ytjHSfXMJVCnvRgnOQyTWoIIliMsmwyZXahEBRuByx5IhWe92KaH3kVB/s1600/cinco-de-mayo.jpg" /></a></div>
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Just wanted to wish you all <b><u>HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO</u></b>!!!!!<br />
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<b style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">Cinco de Mayo</b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> (</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_language" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Spanish language">Spanish</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> for "fifth of May") is a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holiday" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Holiday">celebration</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> held on </span><b style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">May 5</b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">. It is celebrated in the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="United States">United States</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> and regionally in </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexico" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Mexico">Mexico</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">, primarily in the state of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puebla" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Puebla">Puebla</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> where the holiday is called </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">El Día de la Batalla de Puebla</i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> (English: The Day of the Battle of Puebla).</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> It originated with </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexican-American" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="Mexican-American">Mexican-American</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> communities in the </span><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_West" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="American West">American West</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> as a way to commemorate the cause of freedom and democracy during the first years of the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Civil_War" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: none;" title="American Civil War">American Civil War</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> and today the date is observed in the United States as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"><b>PEACE--</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /></a></div>
ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-3348338241567995192013-04-13T02:24:00.000-07:002013-04-13T02:25:44.189-07:00RESISTING THE BLAME GAME<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">RESISTING THE BLAME GAME</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">A mother heard the family cat yowl in pain. She knew where to look – she looked for her son, Mike. "Stop pulling the cat's tail, Michael!" she chided.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">"I'm not pulling his tail," the boy retorted. "I'm just standing on it. He's doing the pulling."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">He, of course, is no different than any of us. Often, our first impulse is to blame someone or something else for problems. It's the cat's fault. Or the school's fault. Or my parents' fault.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I once heard a story of a 40-year-old woman who was jogging in a U. S. state park when she was attacked and killed by a mountain lion. Her family immediately filed suit against the state because of its "failure to manage the mountain lion population" and because it didn't "react to reports of cougar activity in the area by posting warning signs."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">But an interesting thing happened. Her distraught husband felt it was wrong to blame the state or anyone else for his wife's death, even though he stood to possibly win a small fortune. Against her family's wishes, he dropped the law suit. "Barbara and I have always taken responsibility for our own actions," he explained. "Barbara chose to run in the wild and, on a very long shot, she did not come back. This is not the fault of the state, and people should take responsibility for themselves."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I would like to meet that man. He no doubt believes that the Blame Game" is a no-win in the long run. He seems like a person who would rather spend time fixing what's broken than fixing the blame for it on someone else.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">This isn't about law suits – it's more about whether we are essentially victims of life or whether we are powerful and responsible people. An important step in gaining mastery over your life is to resist the urge to make something or someone else responsible. Like novelist J. K. Rowling (of Harry Potter fame) said to graduating Harvard students, "There is an expiry date on blaming your parents for steering you in the wrong direction; the moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you." Certainly background and circumstances have influenced who we are, but who is responsible for the person we become?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">An important decision I made was to resist playing the Blame Game. The day I realized that I am in charge of how I will approach problems in my life, that things will turn out better or worse because of me and nobody else, that was the day I knew I would be a happier and healthier person. And that was the day I knew I could truly build a life that matters.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #674ea7; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">-- Steve Goodier<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px;"> </span><a href="http://www.lifesupportsystem.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-size: 13px;" target="_blank">www.LifeSupportSystem.com</a></span></div>
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</span>ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-70292024906801206782013-01-14T19:28:00.001-08:002013-01-14T19:28:55.926-08:00SPIRITUAL JOURNEY<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KU4GiAq59rk/UPTM8xzw7vI/AAAAAAAAAn8/kIGJdQTqQbw/s1600-h/faith%252520taking%252520the%252520first%252520step%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img title="faith taking the first step" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="317" alt="faith taking the first step" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-vx672p2t99I/UPTM9s6VCbI/AAAAAAAAAoE/Z3iIUT_MsS8/faith%252520taking%252520the%252520first%252520step_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="299" border="0" /></a> </p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#8000ff" size="3">When you begin the spiritual journey and you start to step into your truth ~ people around you may not like that! Many do not want to know their truth...... They are more comfortable in the world of illusions and unconsciousness ~ and when you begin to change, it may create fear within their being. They will do their best to keep you at their level of vibration. This is a test....a spiritual initiation you must move through! <br />In order to move through this test with ease and grace it is best to not get sucked into their duality. There is no need to explain yourself or your new awareness ~ because oftentimes, they will not have "ears to hear or eyes to see".....sometimes it is best to stay silent and smile. <br />Never let their unconsciousness become yours.....do not accept their projections, beliefs, opinions and criticisms of who they "think" you are into your reality! There is no way someone who does not know who "they" are could possibly know who "you" are. <br />Stay aligned with your heart and become the example for them to follow.....move yourself away from the duality of conflict. <strong>KNOW</strong> who you are, and BE IT! You will radiate happiness, joy and inner peace to everyone you come in contact with, and this way of being is infectious and transformational! -anonymous</font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-89064474246664231352013-01-02T16:35:00.001-08:002013-01-02T16:35:24.102-08:00I WISH YOU ENOUGH<p><font face="Verdana" color="#8000ff" size="3">I wanted to start off the New Year by first saying <br /><strong><u>HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL MY DEAR FAMLY AND WONDERFUL FRIENDS</u></strong>. 2012 was a year of too many highs and lows—I am Hoping for 2013 to be more even keeled. My wish for you all is that the New Year </font><font size="3"><font face="Verdana"><font color="#8000ff"><u>Fills Your Heart With Joy…Your House with Prosperity and that You Are <strong>ALWAYS </strong>surrounded by Love!! <br /></u><strong>I Wish You Enough</strong>!!!!</font></font></font></p> <p><font size="3"><font face="Verdana"><font color="#8000ff">Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough." The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?". "I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said. When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, "I wish you enough. May I ask what that means?" She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory, "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye." She then began to cry and walked away. They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them. <strong>TAKE TIME TO LIVE</strong>! To all my friends and loved ones, <strong>I WISH YOU ENOUGH</strong></font></font></font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-81745176346577217532012-12-26T18:57:00.001-08:002012-12-26T18:57:27.698-08:00THE INVITATION<p> </p> <p><font face="Verdana" size="3"><u>The Invitation <br />By Oriah Mountain Dreamer <br />(A Native American Elder) <br /></u>It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing. <br />It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. <br />It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. <br />I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. <br />I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own,if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tip of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. <br />It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. <br />I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy. <br />I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from God's presence. <br />I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!" <br />It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. <br />I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children. <br />It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here. <br />I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. <br />It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. <br />I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. <br />I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. <br />"The first peace, which is the most important, is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize that at the center of the universe dwells the Great Spirit, and that this center is really everywhere, it is within each of us." <br />Black Elk - Oglala Sioux <br />"There is no such thing as 'part-Cherokee.' Either you're Cherokee or you're not. It isn't the quantity of Cherokee blood in your veins that is important, but the quality of it . . . Your pride in it. I have seen full-bloods who have virtually no idea of the great legacy entrusted to their care. Yet, I have seen people with as little as 1/500th blood quantum who inspire the spirits of their ancestors because they make being Cherokee a proud part of a their everyday life." <br />~Jim Pell: Principal Chief of the North Alabama Cherokee Tribe ~</font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-58915835204225723262012-12-23T19:45:00.001-08:002012-12-23T19:45:29.546-08:00A MESSAGE FROM GEORGE CARLIN<p align="center"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-1lWCVAKK2fg/UNfP1cj_thI/AAAAAAAAAnc/Mthg1EH9eB4/s1600-h/GEORGE%252520CARLIN%252520PIC%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3"><img title="GEORGE CARLIN PIC" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="176" alt="GEORGE CARLIN PIC" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-3mp07TriUtE/UNfP2LFF66I/AAAAAAAAAnk/Sp6HiM5O8MQ/GEORGE%252520CARLIN%252520PIC_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="301" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3"> </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">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 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. <br />We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. <br />We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. <br />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 all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. <br />We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. 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 copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. <br />These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the 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. It is a time when there is much in the showroom 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 to just hit delete... <br />Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. <br />Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. <br />Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent. <br />Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. <br />Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. <br />Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. <br /><u>AND ALWAYS REMEMBER</u>: <br />Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. <br />If you don't share this with anyone....Who cares? <br />George Carlin</font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-66759500768451395862012-12-21T19:26:00.001-08:002012-12-21T19:26:26.861-08:00IT’S ALMOST CHRISTMAS<p><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/ATT2.gif" /> </p> <p> </p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">First I want to wish each and everyone of you a very very <strong>MERRY CHRISTMAS</strong>….I hope that your day is filled with much joy, surrounded by much Love and that surprises fill your day!!!! <br />Our Christmas will be very quiet—I managed to get my daughter and Allen a few things—I think that will be very Happy!!!</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">I have been living with <strong>A LOT</strong> of stress lately—it just seems to be getting worse and worse---so that is why I have been pretty quiet lately…. but I have found when I am stressed—I just plug into Pandora (<em>which I highly recommend</em>)and digitally paint. <br />I am not by any means a professional artist—but I am really enjoying the process. So here is a “painting” that I finished this past week…I do like the way it came out.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Z-lInSuyaBA/UNUoVV4tgeI/AAAAAAAAAm8/MMb9bLSjtrU/s1600-h/DEEP%252520BLUE%252520ROSE%252520RS2%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3"><img title="DEEP BLUE ROSE RS2" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="219" alt="DEEP BLUE ROSE RS2" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-i34OTQLblUA/UNUoXdMMkQI/AAAAAAAAAnE/rj824LYKz4E/DEEP%252520BLUE%252520ROSE%252520RS2_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="304" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3"> </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">I absolutely love the blues in it…..Would love to know what you all think about it!!! <br />Anyway---again I just wanted to get on Long Enough to wish you all a <strong><u>VERY BLESSED AND MERRY CHRISTMAS</u></strong>….. <br /><strong>PEACE</strong>!!!!!</font></p> <p><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-55783794059117126242012-12-16T16:08:00.001-08:002012-12-16T16:08:20.276-08:00REMEMBERING<p>The Insane Senseless Killings at Sandy Hook Elementary School is Beyond Words For Me. I think about it and Cry. The Pain and Broken Hearts that are left beyond – I just cannot imagine. Those Families and Friends and Community Will Remain In My Thoughts and Prayers. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-zyJdAfacL1g/UM5ia02fIeI/AAAAAAAAAmc/tfb5kNnwsk4/s1600-h/remember%252520them%252520sandyhook%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="remember them sandyhook" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="374" alt="remember them sandyhook" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-jXXzdAx1004/UM5ichrEzMI/AAAAAAAAAmk/TA0S1KR8eAw/remember%252520them%252520sandyhook_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="485" border="0" /></a></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-66640263100339684922012-12-01T19:29:00.001-08:002012-12-01T19:29:33.754-08:00QUICK NOTE<div><p>Just wanted to say HAPPY DECEMBER...I hope a new month brings you all much joy .... I am sending this entry from my phone which cracks me up. Today also officially ends hurricane season...THANK GOD.... No damage this year. Well ..it is late ... Until Next Time ..... PEACE!!!</p>
</div>ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-55169290545307194972012-11-30T18:05:00.001-08:002012-11-30T18:05:10.923-08:00IT IS OVER<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3"><strong>I MADE IT</strong>----I blogged for one month straight---<strong>YES</strong>—I am so proud of myself—it has been two years since I have done that—and I am celebrating my victory!!!!</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3">I am really glad I did it---just to see if I could start and finish something—that seems to be a task I always have to work hard at. <br />Anyway----This weekend we are going to put up the lights on the big window—but as promised –here is an instagram pic of our Xmas Tree…</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Jze3_LxmPnk/ULll0cb0QVI/AAAAAAAAAhs/DHoWBEcZe0A/s1600-h/IMG_20121129_204920%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3"><img title="IMG_20121129_204920" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="IMG_20121129_204920" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-LnNr1pmu7zY/ULll1F5oEWI/AAAAAAAAAh0/QewsrAsNghM/IMG_20121129_204920_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3"> </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3">Truly it looks so much better in person but I like how the lights are sparkled in this pic. <br />Well I don’t know if I mentioned this—but Allen and my daughter were in an accident  a couple of months ago. A college student ran a red light and hit them broadside at 50 miles an hour…Allen hit his head—but my daughter’s neck and back got <u>“wrenched”</u> (<em>for lack of a better term</em>)…well she has been going to physical therapy and it turns out that now they suspect she has more then one herniated discs…<strong>SO NOT GOOD</strong>…She gets on her feet for more then 5 minutes and cries in pain…so if the MRI confirms this—she will be getting a lawyer…because then other more serious treatments will be needed. It is funny how the mother of the driver that hit them sent her son to Puerto Rico to live (<em>he was in college here</em>). <u><strong>Unbelievable!!!</strong></u> So tonight she is a bit bummed out—I feel so bad for her.</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3">Allen went hog hunting tonight (<em>just absolutely disgusting</em>) but he loves to hunt—so hopefully he will at least have some fun!!</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3">Again I had a <strong>BLAST</strong> blogging for a month in the <strong>NABLOPOMO</strong> challenge… <br />Until Next Time …. <strong>PEACE</strong>!!!</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#0080c0" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-58498998571192656392012-11-29T17:41:00.001-08:002012-11-29T17:41:33.720-08:00CRANKY OLD MAN<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">This is another inspirational story that was sent to me and I wanted to share---it really touched my heart!!</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-WNYn6StNRyk/ULgOyKm0KrI/AAAAAAAAAhM/7pZvT9EqE6M/s1600-h/CRANKY%252520OLD%252520MAN-HAS%252520STORY%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3"><img title="CRANKY OLD MAN-HAS STORY" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="188" alt="CRANKY OLD MAN-HAS STORY" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-_M3WFO8EBHs/ULgOy4PUGBI/AAAAAAAAAhU/DjJtcBN9ri8/CRANKY%252520OLD%252520MAN-HAS%252520STORY_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3"> </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3">When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. <br />Later, when </font><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3">the</font><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3"> nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. <br />One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. <br />And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet. <br />Cranky Old Man <br />What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see? <br />What are you thinking .. . When you're looking at me? <br />A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise, <br />Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. With faraway eyes? <br />Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . And makes no reply. <br />When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!' <br />Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do. <br />And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe? <br />Who, resisting or not . . . ... Lets you do as you will, <br />With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill? <br />Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see? <br />Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me. <br />I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still, <br />As I do at your bidding, .. . . . As I eat at your will. <br />I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother, <br />Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . Who love one another <br />A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. With wings on his feet <br />Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . A lover he'll meet. <br />A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap. <br />Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep. <br />At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own. <br />Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home. <br />A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast, <br />Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last. <br />At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone, <br />But my woman is beside me . . To see I don't mourn. <br />At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee, <br />Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me. <br />Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead. <br />I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread. <br />For my young are all rearing .. . . Young of their own. <br />And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known. <br />I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. And nature is cruel. <br />It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . Look like a fool. <br />The body, it crumbles .. .. . Grace and vigor, depart. <br />There is now a stone . . . Where I once had a heart. <br />But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells, <br />And now and again . . . . . My battered heart swells <br />I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain. <br />And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . Life over again. <br />I think of the years, all too few . . .. Gone too fast. <br />And accept the stark fact . . . That nothing can last. <br />So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . Open and see. <br />Not a cranky old man . <br />Look closer . . . . See .. .. . .. .... . ME!! <br />Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too! <br /> (originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith)</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800040" size="3"><font color="#004080">Until Tomorrow ….. <strong>PEACE</strong>!!! <br /></font><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-71819124475223679702012-11-28T19:57:00.000-08:002012-11-28T20:17:46.452-08:00JUST SHARING<p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/tree313.gif" /> </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">Today we put up our Christmas Tree—We only have a four foot tree because all the kids are grown up—well—we redid all the lights on it, the lights are all white – two sets—one stays on constant and the other flashes… and we bought new bulbs for it in red and silver—Hopefully I can upload a pic of it by tomorrow… We all really like it and the way it came out. Tomorrow hopefully we will get lights around the big window in the room we spend the most time in (<em>computer room</em>) it is also the biggest window on the front of the house…so we are excited!!!</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">So all of my Christmas shopping is done---I did <strong>A LOT</strong> of mine online from Friday to Monday—found what I wanted for everyone—so I am pretty happy. We still have to make a Christmas box for our son in Afghan—some fun food and treats to keep him happy.</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">I hope your Christmas decorating and gift buying goes smoothly…<u>Tis The Season To Give</u>!!! <br /></font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#008040" size="3">Until Tomorrow …. <strong>PEACE</strong>!!! <br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-81542142611637486652012-11-27T17:24:00.001-08:002012-11-27T17:24:14.537-08:00SHAY<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-j3aClEnOWu4/ULVnuUm4rWI/AAAAAAAAAgs/2-oKZjcnoWI/s1600-h/ATT333%25255B3%25255D.gif"><img title="ATT333" style="display: inline" height="198" alt="ATT333" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-YjKhKm4vPRU/ULVnvTbS2MI/AAAAAAAAAg0/acGhitdW-I0/ATT333_thumb%25255B1%25255D.gif?imgmax=800" width="159" /></a> </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">I am on a roll ….here is another inspirational story I thought you all might like---I love stories that just tug at the heart..enjoy!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><strong><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">SHAY</font></strong></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">The audience was stilled by the query.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child." Then he related the following story:</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Shay struggled over to the team's bench and put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three in the top of the ninth inning. Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less contact with the ball. However, as Shay stepped to the plate, the pitcher recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, move in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so that Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both team started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!"</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on the their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">All we screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay"&nb sp; Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third," As shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feed screaming, "Shay, run home! Shay run to home" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the here who hit the grand slam. He had won the game for his team!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">That day, said the father softly with tears rolling down his face, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.</font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#004000" size="3">Until Tomorrow …… <strong>PEACE</strong>!!!! <br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> <br /></font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-21993442529482016622012-11-26T07:41:00.001-08:002012-11-26T07:41:49.780-08:00THE FOLDED NAPKIN<p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-AQlBv29luZM/ULONuWYs8WI/AAAAAAAAAgM/1mtEW-6DXGA/s1600-h/FOLDED%252520NAPKIN--HAS%252520STORY%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3"><img title="FOLDED NAPKIN--HAS STORY" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="200" alt="FOLDED NAPKIN--HAS STORY" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yI9FB3QN3Zo/ULONvCEPxoI/AAAAAAAAAgU/HogZxTr3Ymo/FOLDED%252520NAPKIN--HAS%252520STORY_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="337" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3"> </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3"><u>Another Inspirational Story Just To Make You Feel Good!!!</u></font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3">I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3">Good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. <br />I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks. <br />I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. <br />Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met. <br />Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. <br />He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome often have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. <br />A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine. Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Bell Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look. <br />He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. <br />"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay." <br />"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?" <br />Frannie quickly told Bell Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. <br />Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do. After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face. <br />"What's up?" I asked. <br />"I didn't get that table where Bell Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." <br />She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie. <br />Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. <br />Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers." <br />That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. <br />I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back. Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting. <br />"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" <br />I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. <br />"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. <br />Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother. <br />"There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happy Thanksgiving," <br />Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. Best worker I ever hired. </font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3"><strong>**</strong>Until Tomorrow ….. <strong>Peace**</strong></font></p> <p><font face="Verdana" color="#800080" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-21637873554412610412012-11-25T19:09:00.001-08:002012-11-25T19:09:32.174-08:00LEAVING GREAT LEGACIES<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#0000a0" size="3">I thought I would share a lil inspirational story to just make you feel good…with the holidays approaching – it is easy to get the blues—so hopefully this puts a smile on your face!!</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-T7OTk_Eej5g/ULLdaK8WcZI/AAAAAAAAAfs/LNVeQL44GOY/s1600-h/file0132.gif"><img title="file013" style="display: inline" height="13" alt="file013" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-91EQeWlQS_o/ULLdak338HI/AAAAAAAAAf0/z0O0zJQkOlQ/file013_thumb.gif?imgmax=800" width="99" /></a> </p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#0000a0" size="3"><strong>LEAVING GREAT LEGACIES <br /></strong>Edwin Hubbel Chapin once said, "Every action of our lives touches on <br />Some chord that will vibrate in eternity." That is the definition of a <br />Legacy. Wouldn't you love to do something that might strike a <br />Beautiful chord that will "vibrate in eternity"? <br />I've discovered something about legacies…generous people leave great <br />Legacies. I read about a couple in Canada who stopped to help a <br />Motorist who had run out of gasoline. It was a regular occurrence in <br />Their part of rural Canada. After they got him on his way, they bought <br />A new fuel can, scratched their initials on it, filled it with petrol <br />And stored it in the trunk of their car. <br />A few months later they again stopped to assist a stranded motorist. <br />But this time they GAVE him their gas can and told him to fill it up, <br />Keep it with him and pass it along to the next motorist he sees who <br />Has run out of fuel. <br />Though they never expected to see their can again, in a couple of <br />Years they spotted it being passed along to a grateful motorist on the <br />Road. They recognized it several more times over the years, and each <br />Time they asked its owner where it had come from. They ascertained <br />That the can had traveled across the continent at least two times! <br />They never intended to leave a legacy. When they bought the fuel can <br />They never dreamed that their action might strike chords that could <br />Vibrate in eternity. But that container may still be traveling around <br />The country! <br />And it might not seem like a big thing, but many motorists have been <br />Saved by the generosity of complete strangers who stop to help. Then <br />Each in turn has taken the container, re-filled it, and diligently <br />Looked, perhaps for days or weeks, for an opportunity to pass it <br />Along. Good will generated by a humble can of fuel has no doubt <br />Been multiplied many times in countless ways, striking beautiful <br />Chords that vibrate forever. <br />It's true - generous people leave great legacies. Even that small <br />Piece of yourself you generously give away may thrive in surprising <br />Ways throughout eternity.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#0000a0" size="3">**Until Tomorrow ….. <strong>PEACE</strong>** <br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-10170647220748619532012-11-24T06:52:00.001-08:002012-11-24T06:52:49.546-08:00HOLIDAY TIMES<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3">I know that the holidays can make people more stressed out – Some times I think I am there also…. I have found that in those times—I just forget to be <strong>HAPPY</strong>—with just my life…It is all too easy to forget the meaning behind all the holidays – well I came upon this lil inspirational graphic and thought I would pass it along..</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-5icYR6XZtlg/ULDfNKGKV6I/AAAAAAAAAe8/jX09DOW5aZE/s1600-h/12%252520THINGS%252520HAPPY%252520PEOPLE%252520DO%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3"><img title="12 THINGS HAPPY PEOPLE DO" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="531" alt="12 THINGS HAPPY PEOPLE DO" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-L81JcQD0z-Q/ULDfOeQecaI/AAAAAAAAAfE/Pb3T8XXb5LE/12%252520THINGS%252520HAPPY%252520PEOPLE%252520DO_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="387" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3"> </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3">Okay---today there are some <strong>HUGE</strong> college football rivalries-- <br />The one closest to my heart is <u>Florida State Seminoles VS University of Florida Gators</u>…So All I have to say is <br /><strong>GO GATORSSSSSSS</strong>!!!! <br /><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-xFtdESxgakI/ULDfPIoFNqI/AAAAAAAAAfM/JUZZ3aAXI1I/s1600-h/gator%252520chomping%25255B2%25255D.gif"><img title="gator chomping" style="display: inline" height="80" alt="gator chomping" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-UFqSw92c7uc/ULDfQL-9uUI/AAAAAAAAAfU/9L6jmh9ISk0/gator%252520chomping_thumb.gif?imgmax=800" width="90" /></a> </font><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3"> <br /><u>”Florida By Birth – Gator By The Grace Of God” <br /></u>Until Tomorrow…<strong>PEACE</strong>!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#008000" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-13859367558318396722012-11-23T06:38:00.001-08:002012-11-23T06:38:05.118-08:00BLACK FRIDAY<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">Well I am so <strong>NOT</strong> one to leave my house at midnight to get in a line and wait for the doors to bust open to run for my life to grab an item or two as xmas gifts—<strong>THAT IS JUST NUTS</strong>!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">To be honest---I am very much a Black Monday internet buyer—I like taking my time looking at things—comparing prices—and not be shoved around…Also Me and Crowds---well just <strong>NO</strong>!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">I am having a very relaxing day----there is a James Bond Movie Marathon—which I am addicted to—I must have seen every Bond Movie at least 75 times—yes sad but true! <br />Tomorrow is one of the biggest college football rival games for me—Gators Vs Seminoles---omg—I so cannot wait!! Go Gators!!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">Today The daughter and I are going to enjoy the leftovers---omg the food was out of this world delicious…and we will bum around and just laugh the day away…I leave you all with a saying—just because I can—lol--</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-48b5jJy8-X0/UK-KR5jmFNI/AAAAAAAAAec/ml48zDuP77c/s1600-h/ACTS%252520OF%252520KINDNESS%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3"><img title="ACTS OF KINDNESS" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="413" alt="ACTS OF KINDNESS" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-T2V46S1FtZc/UK-KShGPcbI/AAAAAAAAAek/9TvRXJdcESI/ACTS%252520OF%252520KINDNESS_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="332" border="0" /></font></a><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3"> </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3">Until Tomorrow-----<strong>PEACE</strong>!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004080" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-2380425684636571112012-11-22T13:13:00.001-08:002012-11-22T13:13:32.797-08:00HAPPY THANKSGIVING<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3"><img height="291" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/PMHappyThanksgivingHEADER2.gif" width="335" /> </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3"><strong>FIRST</strong>---I want to wish each and everyone of you a <strong>VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING</strong>---I hope your day is filled with many Blessings and much Love!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">These Are The Things I Am <strong>THANKFUL</strong> For…. (<em>In No Particular Order</em>)</font></p> <p align="center"> <br /><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">1- For My Family—there are <strong>NO</strong> words to truly describe how <strong>BLESSED</strong> I am to have the Family I do….<u>Allen</u> who is my strength—<u>Eric and AJ</u> who made motherhood something I fell in Love with..<u>Crystalyn</u>—the reason I was Born—unconditional Love!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">2-For My Friends—who, no matter <strong>WHAT</strong>—have stuck by me..care about me…love me…and just accept me for the strange person I am.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">3-For My <strong>GrandChildren</strong>-Who have shown me a whole new level of Love!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">4-For <strong>God</strong>—Allowing me This Much Time To Live the Beautiful Life I have!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">5-For the <strong>soldiers</strong> Who Chose To protect My Freedoms so I can Enjoy such a holiday!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">6-For Those Who Have Come into My Life and Left—You Taught Me How To <u>Become Stronger</u>-<u>To Forgive and Forget</u>-To <u>Grow and Change</u>.</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3">I am <strong>TRULY BLESSED</strong>—No Doubt About It….Have A Beautiful Day!!</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#804000" size="3"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /> </font></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-32352126278233946382012-11-21T20:08:00.001-08:002012-11-21T20:08:24.838-08:00BEN STEIN ON CHRISTMAS<p align="center"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-azl58PHBBkI/UK2lMs3PcHI/AAAAAAAAAd0/7Ul09be2UW8/s1600-h/BEN%252520STEIN%252520WITH%252520STORY%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="BEN STEIN WITH STORY" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="185" alt="BEN STEIN WITH STORY" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-QtY-Z5oFpF0/UK2lNTbZvGI/AAAAAAAAAd8/KnVBD4XFm9k/BEN%252520STEIN%252520WITH%252520STORY_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /></a> </p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004040" size="3">Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as “Holiday Trees” for the first time this year which prompted CBS presenter, Ben Stein, to present this -</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#004040" size="3">Piece which I would like to share with you. I think it applies just as much to many countries as it does to America . . . <br />The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary. <br />My confession: <br />I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejewelled trees, Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees. <br />It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, “Merry Christmas” to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a crib, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away. <br />I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat. <br />Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to. <br />In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking. <br />Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her: “How could God let something like this happen?” (regarding Hurricane Katrina). Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said: “I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?” <br />In light of recent events... Terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbour as yourself. And we said OK. <br />Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said okay. <br />Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves. <br />Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.' <br />Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace. <br />Are you laughing yet? <br />Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it. <br />Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us. <br />Pass it on if you think it has merit. <br />If not, then just discard it.... No one will know you did. But if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in. <br />My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully, <br />Ben Stein</font></p> <p align="center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-471727493897178566.post-56094647945068960902012-11-20T00:00:00.001-08:002012-11-20T00:00:22.972-08:00MEREDITH AND ABBEY<p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#8000ff" size="3">Here is an inspirational story that I thought I would share---very heart warming—hope you enjoy it!!!</font></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-6WkXR7Qd9xs/UKs4j_YQZuI/AAAAAAAAAdU/8nnY7cahB4c/s1600-h/MEREDITY%252520AND%252520ABBEY-HAS%252520A%252520STORY%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="MEREDITY AND ABBEY-HAS A STORY" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="MEREDITY AND ABBEY-HAS A STORY" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-StfL52hWpeU/UKs4ktzBMxI/AAAAAAAAAdc/ObZev7n1u7Q/MEREDITY%252520AND%252520ABBEY-HAS%252520A%252520STORY_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /></a> </p> <p align="center"> </p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#8000ff" size="3">Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. </font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Verdana" color="#8000ff" size="3">She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words: <br />Dear God, <br />Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. <br />I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. <br />Love, Meredith <br />We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had. <br />Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: <br />Dear Meredith, <br />Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. <br />Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. <br />Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. <br />Love, God</font></p> <p align="center"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/JIBARO6543/elliesigstraight.png" /></p> ELLIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07928357017679223795noreply@blogger.com0