The Monk's Vision

by: Lawrence Le Shan, More Sower's Seeds

An old monk prayed many years for a vision from God to strengthen his faith, but it never came. He had almost given up hope when, one day, a vision appeared. The old monk was overjoyed. But then, right in the middle of the vision, the monastery bell rang. The ringing of the bell meant it was time to feed the poor who gathered daily at the monastery gate. And it was the old monk's turn to feed them. If he failed to show up with food, the poor people would leave quietly, thinking the monastery had nothing to give them that day.

The old monk was torn between his earthly duty and his heavenly vision. However, before the bell stopped tolling, the monk had made his decision. With a heavy heart, he turned his back on the vision and went off to feed the poor. Nearly an hour later, the old monk returned to his room. When he opened the door, he could hardly believe his eyes. There in the room was the vision, waiting for him. As the monk dropped to his knees in thanksgiving, the vision said to him, "My son, had you not gone off to feed the poor, I would not have stayed."

The best way to serve God is to reach out in service to our brothers and sisters, especially those less gifted that ourselves.

Daddy Is Driving

by: Author Unknown, Aspiring to Greatness

A speaker (Dr. Wan) has once shared his experience:

While his family and he were in Europe, there was once that they need to drive 3 days continuously, day and night, to get to Germany. So, they all got into the car -- he, his wife, and his 3 years old daughter.

His little daughter has never traveled at night before. She was scared the first night in the car, with deep darkness outside.

"Where are we going, Daddy?" "To your uncle's house, in Germany."

"Have you been to his house before?" "No."

"Then do you know the way?" "Maybe, we can read the map."

Short pause. "Do you know how to read the map?" "Yes, we will get there safely."

Another pause. "Where are we going to eat if we get hungry before arriving?" "We can stop by restaurants if we are hungry."

"Do you know if there are restaurants on the way?" "Yes there are."

"Do you know where?" "No, but we will be able to find some."

The same dialogue repeated a few times within the first night, and also the second night. But on the third night, his daughter was quiet. The speaker thought that she might have fallen asleep, but when he looked into the mirror, he saw that she was awake and was just looking around calmly. He couldn't help wondering why she was not asking the questions anymore --

"Dear, do you know where we are going?" "Germany, Uncle's house."

"Do you know how we are getting there?" "No."

"Then why aren't you asking anymore?" "Because Daddy is driving."

Because Daddy is driving. This answer from a 3 years' old girl has then become the strength and help for this speaker for the many years follow whenever he has questions and fears on his journey with the Lord. Yes, our Father is driving. We may know the destination (and sometimes we may just know it like the little girl -- "Germany", without understanding where or what it really is). We do not know the way, we do not know how to read the map, we do not know if we can find restaurants along the way. But the little girl knew the most important thing -- Daddy is driving -- and so she is safe and secure. She knows that her Daddy will provide all that she needs.

Do you know your Daddy, the Great Shepherd, is driving today? What are your behavior and response as a passenger, His child?

You may have asked many questions before, but can you like the little girl, starts to realize the most important focus should be "Daddy is Driving?"

The Ice Cream Prayer

by: Author Unknown, Rainbow Garden

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is great and God is Good. Let us thank Him for the food, and I would even thank you more if mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart."

Then in theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes and my soul is good already."

He Became Man and Dwelt Among Us

by: Louis Cassells

Once upon a time, there was a man who looked upon Christmas as a lot of humbug. He wasn't a scrooge. He was a kind and decent person, generous to his family, upright in all his dealings with other men. But he didn't believe all that stuff about incarnation which churches proclaim at Christmas. And he was too honest to declare that he did.

"I am truly sorry to distress you," he told his wife, who was a faithful churchgoer. "But I simply cannot understand this claim that God became man. It doesn't make any sense to me." On Christmas Eve, his wife and children went to church for the midnight service. He declined to accompany them. "I'd feel like a hypocrite," he explained. "I'd must rather stay at home. But I'll wait up for you."

Shortly after his family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window and watched the flurries getting heavier and heavier. "If we must have Christmas," he thought. "It's nice to have a white one." He went back to his chair by the fireside and began to read his newspapaer. A few minutes later, he was startled by a thudding sound. It was quickly followed by another, then another. He thought that someone must be throwing snowballs at his living room window.

When he went to the front door to investigate, he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They'd had been caught in the storm, and in a desperate search for shelter had tried to fly through his window.

"I can't let these poor creatures lie there and freeze," he thought. "But how can I help them?" Then he remembered the barn where the children's pony was stabled. It would provide a warm shelter. He put on his coat and galoshes and tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light. But the birds didn't come in. "Food will bring them in," he thought. So he hurried back to the house for bread crumbs, which he sprinkled on the snow to make a trail into the barn.

To his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs and continued to flop around helplessly in the snow. He tried shoeing them in the barn by walking around and waving his arms. They scattered in every direction -- except into the warm, lighted barn. "They find me a strange and terrifying creature," he said to himself. "And I can't seem to think of any way to let them know they can trust me. If only I could be a bird myself for a few minutes, perhaps I could lead them to safety..."

Just at that moment, the church bells began to ring. He stood silently for a while, listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas. Then he sank to his knees in the snow. "Now I do understand," he whispered. "Now I know why you had to do it."

Attitude Is Everything

by: Brian Cavanaugh, T.O.R., A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul

Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "I I were any better, I would be twins!"

He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters follower Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and askied him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied. "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to be complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested, "Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situation. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."

I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.

Several years. Later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.

I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied. "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.' I knew I needed to take action."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry.

"She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breathe and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them. 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.

The Father's Gift

by: Author Unknown

A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.

As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box.

Curious, and somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold. Angry, he rose his voice to his father and said "with all your money, you give me a Bible?!" and stormed out of the house.

Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realised his father very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day.

Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.

When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father;s important papers and saw the still gift-wrapped Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages, His father had carefully underlined a verse, Matt. 7:11, "And if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father which is in Heaven, give to those who ask Him?"

As he read those words, a car key dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words PAID IN FULL.

How many timed do we miss God's blessing because we can't see past our own desires?

A Scorpion Moment

by: Author Unknown

There was this Hindi who saw a scorpion floundering around in the water. He decided to save it by stretching out his finger, but the scorpion stung him. The man still tried to get the scorpion out of the water, but the scorpion stung him again.

A man nearby told him to stop saving the scorpion that kept stinging him.

But the Hindu said: "It is the nature of the scorpion to sting. It is my nature to love. Why should I give up my nature to love just because it is the nature of the scorpion to sting?"

Don't give up loving.
Don't give up your goodness.
Even if people around you sting.

Keep God First

by: Author Unknown

There once was a man who had nothing for his family to eat. He had an old shotgun and three bullets. So he decided that he would go out and kill something for dinner.

As he went down the road, he saw a rabbit and he fired a shot at the rabbit and missed it. Then he saw a squirrel and fired a shot at the squirrel and missed it. As he went further, he saw a wild turkey in the tree and he had only one bullet, but a voice came to him and said "pray first, aim high and stay focused."

However, at the same time, he saw a deer which was a better kill. He brought the gun down and aimed at the deer. But, then he saw a rattle snake between his legs about to bite him, so he naturally brought the gun down further to shoot the rattle snake.

Still, the voice said again to him, "I said 'pray, aim high and stay focused."

So, the man decided to listen to the voice. He prayed, then aimed the gun high up in the tree and shot the wild turkey. The bullet bounced off the turkey and killed the deer. The handle fell off the gun and hit the snake in the head and killed it.

And, when the gun had gone off, it knocked him into a pond. When he stood to look around, he had fish in all his pockets, a dead deer and a turkey to eat.

The snake (Satan) was dead simply because the man listened to God.

• Pray first before you do anything, aim and shoot high in you goals, and stay focused on God. Pass this on in order that someone else might be blessed.


• Never let other discourage you concerning your past. The past is exactly that - "the past." Live every day one day at a time. And remember that only God knows our future and that he will not put you through any more that you can bear.


• Do not look to man for your blessings but look to the Lord. He can open doors for you that only He is able to do. Doors that you will not slip through but doors that only He has prepared in advance for you in your favor. Wait, and be still, be patient: keep God first and everything else will follow.
  

The Cross

by: Author Unknown

A young man was at the end of his road, seeing no way out, he dropped to his knees in prayer.

"Lord, I can't go on," he said. "I have a cross too heavy to bear."

The Lord replied, "My son, if you can't bear its weight, just place your cross inside this room.

Then, open that other door and pick out any cross you wish."

The man was filled with relief and said, "Thank you Lord," and he did as he was told.

Upon entering the other room, he saw many crosses; some so large the tops were not visible. Then, he spotted a tiny cross leaning against a far wall.

"I'd like that one, Lord," he whispered. The Lord replies, "My son, that is the cross you just brought in."

When life's problems seem overwhelming, it helps to look around and see what other people are coping with. You may consider yourself far more fortunare than you imagined.

Black and Gold Boxes

by: Author Unknown

I have in my hands two boxes
Which God gave me to hold
He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black,
And all your joys in the gold,"

I heeded his words, and in the two boxes
Both my joys and sorrows I store
But though the gold box became heavier each day
The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black
I wanted to find out why
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole
Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused aloud,
"I wonder where my sorrows could be."
He smiled a gentle smile at me.
"My child, they're all here with me."

I asked, "God, why give me the boxes,"
"Why the gold, and the black with the hole?"
"My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
the black is for you to let go."

Be Still With God

by: Nancy B. Gibbs

All day long I had been very busy; picking up trash, cleaning bathrooms and scrubbing floors. My grown children were coming home for the weekend. I went grocery shopping and prepared for a barbecue super, complete with ribs and chicken. I wanted everything to be perfect.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was dog-tired. I simply couldn't work as long as I could when I was younger. "I've got to rest for a minute," I told my husband, Roy, as I collapsed into my favorite rocking chair. Music was playing, my dog and cat were chasing each other and the telephone rang.

A scripture from Psalm 46 popped into my mind. "Be still, and know that I am God," I realized that I hadn't spent much time in prayer that day. Was I too busy to even utter a simple word of thanks to God? Suddenly, the thought of my beautiful patio came to mind. I can be quiet out there, I thought. I longed for a few minutes alone with God.

Roy and I had invested a great deal of time and work in the patio that spring. The flowers and hanging baskets were breathtaking. It was definitely a heavenly place of rest and tranquility. If I can't be still with God in that environment, I can't be still with Him anywhere, I thought. While Roy was talking on the telephone, I slipped out the backdoor and sat down on my favorite patio chair. I closed my eyes and began to pray, counting my many blessings.

A bird flew by me, chirping and singing. It interrupted my thoughts. It landed on the bird feeder and began eating dinner as I watched. After a few minutes it flew away, singing another song.

I closed my eyes again. A gust of wind blew, which caused my wind chimes to dance. They made a joyful sound, but again I lost my concentration on God. I squirmed and wiggled in my chair. I looked up toward the blue sky and saw the clouds moving slowly towards the horizon. The wind died down. My wind chimes finally became quiet.

Again, I bowed in prayer. "Honk, honk," I heard. I almost jumped out of my skin. A neighbor was driving down the street. He waved at me and smiled. I waved back, happy that he cared. I quickly tried once again to settle down, repeating the familiar verse in my mind. Be still and know that I am God.

"I'm trying God. I really am," I whispered. "But you've got to help me here."

The backdoor opened. My husband walked outside. "I love you," he said. "I was wondering where you were." I chuckled, as he came over and kissed me, then turned around and went back inside.

"Where's the quiet time?" I asked God, my heart fluttered. There was no pain, only a beat that interrupted me yet again. This is impossible, I thought. There's no time to be still and to know that God is with me. There's too much going on in the world and entirely too much activity all around me.

THen it suddenly dawned on me. God was speaking to me the entire time i was attempting to be still. I remembered the music playing as I'd begun my quiet time. He sent a sparrow to lighten my life with song. He sent a gentle breeze. He sent a neighbor to let me know that I had a friend. He sent my sweetheart to offer sincere sentiments of love. He caused my heart to flutter to remind of life. While I was trying to count my blessings, God was busy multiplying them.

I laughed to realize that the "interruptions" of my quiet time with God were special blessings He'd sent to show me He was with me the entire time.

1 Dollar and 100 Dollar Bill

by: Author Unknown

One day, a one dollar bill and a hundred dollar bill got folded together and began talking about their life experiences.

The hundred dollar bill began to brag:

"I've had a great life," he said. "I've been to all the big hotels, Donald Trump himself used me at his casino, I've flown from one end of the country to the other! I've even been in the wallet of two Presidents of the United States, and once when Princess Diana visited the US, she used me to buy a packet of gum."

In awe, the dollar humbly responded, "Gee, nothing like that has ever happened to me, ... but I have been to church a lot!"

HOPE

by: William M. Buchholz, M.D., Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul

As I ate breakfast one morning, I overheard two oncologists conversing.
One complained bitterly, "You know, Bob, I just don't understand it. We used the same drugs, the same dosage, the same schedule and the same entry criteria. Yet I got a 22 percent response rate and you got a 74 percent. That's unheard of for metastatic cancer. How do you do it?"

His colleague replied, "We're both using Etoposide, Platinum, Oncovin and Hydroxyurea. You call yours EPOH. I tell my patients I'm giving them HOPE. As dismal as the statistics are, I emphasize that we have a chance."

INTERVIEW WITH GOD

by: Author Unknown, inspirationalstories.com

I dreamed I had an interview with God.

"Come in," God said. "So, you would like to interview Me?"

"If you have the time," I said.

God smiled and said "My time is eternity. It is enough to do everything. What questions do you have in mind to ask me?"

I asked, "What surprises you most about mankind?"

God thought for a few moments and then answered "That they get bored of being children, are in a rush to grow up, and then long to be children again.

That they lose their health to make money and then lose their money to restore their health.

That by thinking anxiously about the future, they forget the present, such that they live neither for the present nor the future.

That they live as if they will never die, and they die as if they had never lived"

God placed my hands in His and we were silent for while. Then I asked,

"As a parent, what are some of life's lessons you want your children to learn?"

God replied with a smile "To learn that they cannot make anyone love them. What they can do is to let themselves be loved.

To learn that what is most valuable is not what they have in their lives, but whom they have in their lives.

To learn that it is not good to compare themselves to others. All will be judged individually on their own merits, not as a group on a comparison basis.

To learn that a rich person is not the one who has the most, but is one who needs the least.

To learn that it only takes a few seconds to open profound wounds in persons we love, and that it takes many years to heal them.

To learn to forgive by practicing forgiveness. To learn that there are persons that love them dearly, but simply do not know to express or show their feelings.

To learn that money can buy everything but happiness.

To learn that two people can look at the same thing and see it totally different.

To learn that a true friend is someone who knows everuthing about them... and likes them anyway.

To learn that it is not always enough that they be forgiven by others, but that they have to forgive themselves."

I sat there for awhile enjoying my visit with God.

I thanked Him for His time and for all that He has done for my family and me.

He replied, "Anytime. I'm here 24 hours a day. All you have to do is ask for me, and I'll answer."

WEAKNESS OR STRENGTH?

by: Author Unknown, Bits & Pieces, August 15, 1996, Economic Press Inc. inspirationalstories.com

Sometimes your biggest weakness can become your biggest strength.  Take, for example, the story of one 10-year-old boy who decided to study judo despite the fact that he had lost his left arm in a devastating car accident.

The boy began lessons with an old Japanese judo master.  The boy was doing well, so he couldn't understand why, after three months of training the master had taught him only one move.

"Sensei," the boy finally said, "Shouldn't I be learning more moves?"

"This is the only move you know, but this is the only move you'll ever need to know," the sensei replied.

Not quite understanding, but believing in his teacher, the boy kept training.

Several months later, the sensei took the boy to his first tournament.  Surprising himself, the boy easily won his first two matches.  The third match proved to be more difficult, but after some time, his opponent became impatient and charged; the boy deftly used his one move to win the match.  Still amazed by his success, the boy was now in the finals.

This time, his opponent was bigger, stronger, and more experienced.  For a while, the boy appeared to be overmatched.  Concerned that the boy might get hurt, the referee called a time-out.  He was about to stop the match when the sensei intercvened.

"No," the sensei insisted, "Let him continue."

Soon after the match resumed, his opponent made a critical mistake: he dropped his guard.  Instantly, the boy used his move to pin him.  The boy had won the match and the tournament.  He was the champion.

On the way home, the boy and sensei reviewed every move in each and every match.  Then the boy summoned the courage to ask what was really on his mind.

"Sensei, how did I win the tournament with only one move?"

"You won for two reasons," the sensei answered.  "First, you've almost mastered one of the most difficult throws in all of judo.  And second, the only known defense for that move is for your opponent to grap your left arm."

The boy's biggest weakness had become his biggest strength.

MARBLES

from: inspirational.com

During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Brother Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available.  Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively.

One particular day Brother Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me.  I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.  I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas.  I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.  Pondering the peas I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Brother Miller and the ragged boy next to me.


"Hello Barry, how are you today?"


"H'lo, Mr. Miller.  Fine, thank ya.  Jus' admirin' them peas -- sure look good."


"They are good, Barry.  How's your Ma?"


"Fine.  Gittin' stronger alla'time."


"Good.  Anything I can help you with?"


"No, Sir.  Jus' admirin' them peas."


"Would you like to take some home?"


"No, Sir.  Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."


"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"


"All I got's my prize aggie -- best taw around here."


"Is that right?  Let me see it."


"Here 'tis.  She's a dandy."


"I can see that.  Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red.  Do you have a red one like this at home?"


"Not 'zackley -- but, almost."


"Tell you what.  Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red taw."


"Sure will.  Thanks, Mr. Miller."


Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.  With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community -- all three are in very poor circumstances.  Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever.  When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."


I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man.  A short time later I moved to Utah but I never forgot the story of this man and the boys -- and their bartering.


Several years went by each more rapid than the previous one.  Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Brother Miller had died.


They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them.


Upon our arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.  Ahead of us in line were three young men.  One was in an army uniform and the other two wore short haircuts, dark suits and white shirts obviously potential or returned Mormon missionaries.


They approached Sister Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket.  Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.  Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket.


Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.  Our turn came to meet Sister Miller.  I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles.  Eyes glistening she took my hand and led me to the casket.


"This is an amazing coincidence," she said.  "Those three young men, that just left, were the boys I told you about.  They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them.  Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about the color or size...  they came to pay their debt.


We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."  With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband.  Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red marbles.

THE TIP

from: inspirationalstories.com 

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table.  A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.

"How much is an ice cream sundae?"

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it.  "How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired.  Some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress was a bit impatient.

"Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely.

The little boy again counted the coins.  "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said.  The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away.  The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed.  When the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed hard at what she saw.  There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies - her tip.

THE DOLLMAKER

by: Author Unknown, Aspiring to Greatness

inspirationalstories.com

Once upon a time in a far-away place lived a kindly old dollmaker.  He had spent his goodly long life creating dolls of all sorts, making all the little girls in the world happy.

He had kept up in the trends of the world and made dolls that say "mama", that cry, that stand up by themselves, and that even wink at you.  But our doll maker was very wise.  He knew that his time for special contribution was growing short.  So, with special resolve in his heart, he made his most beautiful creation.  He gave her brown curls, which he personally felt had the most beauty in their long tresses.  He gave her the bluest of blue eyes, into which he put the promises of eternity and into which one could gaze forever.

This special doll was given long legs with which she could dance, run and play, and occasionally even walk a second mile.  He gave her beautiful hands to work and serve with and teach all the other dolls.  Her fingers were long and slender.  With these, the old man hoped she would comfort those around her.  She had a beautiful face and he planned this so that she could see the beauty in others.  He dressed her in a gown as shimmery as gossamer, and on the last day when she was completed, he lifted her up with great care and set her gently in front of a large mirror.

"What do you think little doll?"  he asked "Are you not the most beautiful doll in the world?"  The doll looked through her long lashes full of excited anticipation.  Suddenly her pretty face clouded up and then stormed over.  "Oh doll maker, I hate brown hair and I have always longed for green eyes.  These are not the colors I'd have chosen for myself.  And look how gangly and long my legs are!  How large my feet are!  How unfashionable they will seem to the world.  My gown is really very ordinary.  Oh doll maker, I am not a beautiful doll at all!"

We have been created with the most beautiful qualities.  Don't look into life's mirrors and wish you were something you're not.  May we thank the great Doll maker for what we have been given.

THE WEMMICK STORY

by: Max Lucado, You Are Special

inspirationalstories.com

The Wemmicks were small wooden people.  These little wooden people were carved by a woodworker named "Eli."  Eli's workshop sat on a hill overlooking the Wemmick Village.  Everyone of the Wemmicks were different.  Some had big noses, others had large eyes.  Some were tall and others were short.  Some wore hats, others wore coats.  But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the same village.

All day long, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing.  They gave each other stickers.  Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of dull gray dot stickers.  Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking gold stars or gray dots onto each other.  The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got shiny gold stars!  But if the wood was rough or the paint was chipped, the Wemmicks gave dull gray dots.  The talented ones got stars, too.  Some Wemmicks had stars all over them!  Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something else and got another star.

There were many other Wemmicks though that would do very little.  They  got dull gray dots!  There was one little Wemmick and his name was "Punchinello."  He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell.  And when he fell, the others would gather 'round and give him dull gray dots.  Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more gray dots.  He would try to explain why he fell and, in doing so, he would say something really silly.  Then the Wemmicks would give him some more dots!!!

After a while, Punchinello had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside.  He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him more dull gray dots.  In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and just give him one without any reason!  "He deserves lots of dots," they would say.  The wooden people would agree with one another.  "He's not a good wooden person," they would say.  After a while Punchinello believed them.  "I am not a good Wemmick!"  he would say.  The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of gray dots.  At least he felt better around them.

One day, Punchinello met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met.  She had no dull gray dots and did not have any shiny golden stars either.  She was a wooden Wemmick and her name was "Lucia."  It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stick to her!!!  Some admired Lucia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star.  But it would fall off.  Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot.  But they would not stick either!!!

"That's the way I want to be!" thought Punchinello.  "I don't want anyone's marks!"  So he asked the "stickerless" Wemmick how she did it.  "It's easy," Lucia replied.  "Every day I go see Eli."  Punchinello asked, "Eli?  Who is Eli?"  She replied "Yes, Eli, He is the woodcarver.  I sit in His workshop and spend time with Him."  He asked Lucia, "Why do you do that?"  Lucia told him, "Why don't you find out for yourself?  Go up the hill and visit with Him.  He's there!"  And with that, the sweet little Wemmick named Lucia turned and skipped away.

"But He won't want to see me!"  Punchinello cried out to her.  Lucia didn't hear him, as she was too far away.  So Punchinello went home.  He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other gold stars and gray dots.  "It's just not right," he muttered to himself.  Then he resolved to go see Eli after all.  Punchinello walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big Woodcarver Shop.  His little wooden eyes widened at the size of everything.  The stool was as tall as he was.  He had to stretch on his tippy-toes to see the top of the workbench.  A hammer was as long as his arm.  Punchinello swallowed hard and thought to himself, "I'm not staying here!" and he turned to leave.  Then he heard his name.  "Punchinello?" said this voice, so deep and strong.  Just then Punchinello stopped.  The voice said, "Punchinello, oh how good it is of you to come!  Let me have a look at you."

Punchinello slowly turned around and looked at the large bearded craftsman and said, "Sir, you know my name?" "Of course I do.  I made you," Eli said.  All if a sudden, Eli stooped down and picked little Punchinello up and set him on the workbench.  "Hmmmmm," the Maker spoke thoughtfully as he inspected the gray circles all over him, "Looks like you've been given some bad marks."  Punchinello explained, "Oh, Eli, I didn't mean to; really I didn't!!!  I really tried hard not to."  The Maker said, "Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, my child.  I don't care what the other Wemmicks think."  Punchinello asked, "Really?  You don't?"  Then Eli said, "No and you shouldn't either.  Who are they to give stars or dots?  They are Wemmicks just like you.  What they think really doesn't matter at all, Punchinello.  All that matters is what I think.  And I think you are pretty special."  Punchinello laughed, "Oh, me special?  How can I be special?  I can't walk fast.  I can't jump.  My paint is peeling.  I make silly mistakes all the time and I am not a beautiful Wemmick like some of the others.  How could I matter to you?"  Eli looked at Punchinello and put his hands on those little wooden shoulders of his and spoke very slowly, "Because Punchinello... you are mine.  That's why you matter to me."  Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this before or say anything so nice, much less his Maker!  He didn't know what to say!

"Punchinello, everyday I've been waiting and hoping you would come to see me," Eli explained.  Punchinello looked up at him and said, "I came because I met a sweet Wemmick girl who had no marks."  Eli said, "I know.  Lucia told me about you."  So Punchinello asked, "Why don't the stickers stay on Lucia?"  Eli said, "Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what anyone else thinks.  The stickers only stick if you let them."  Punchinello looked puzzled and said, "What?" Eli said, "Yes, the stickers only stick if they matter to you.  The more you trust My love, the less you will care about those stickers."  But Punchinello said, "I'm not sure I really understand.  What you are saying?"  The maker said, "You will, but it will take some time.  You've got a lot of marks.  So for now, just come to see me everyday and let me remind you how much I care about you."  Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the floor.  "Now remember," Eli said as the Whemmick walked out the door.  "You ARE special because I made you, and I don't make mistakes."

Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, "I think He really means it."  And each time he remembered what Eli told him and each time he went to visit and talk with Eli, one of Punchinello's dots would fall off.  They kept falling off and soon they were all gone!!!

So like Punchinello, we must remember one thing: "Man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart. (I Samuel 16:7)

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

from: inspirationalstories.com

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand; one belonging to him, and the other to the Lord.

When the last scene of his life flashed before him he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life.

This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it. "Lord, you said that once I decide to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."

The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."