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Sam and Becky are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. Sam says to Becky, "Becky, I was wondering - have you ever cheated on me?"
Becky replies, "Oh Sam, why would you ask such a question now? You don't want to ask that question..."
"Yes, Becky, I really want to know. Please..."
"Well, all right. Yes, 3 times..."
"Three? Well, when were they?" he asked.
"Well, Sam, remember when you were 35 years old and you really wanted to start the business on your own and no bank would give you a loan? Remember, then one day the bank president himself came over the house and signed the loan papers, no questions asked?"
"Oh, Becky, you did that for me! I respect you even more than ever, to do such a thing for me. So, when was number 2?"
"Well, Sam, remember when you had that last heart attack and you were needing that very tricky operation, and no surgeon would touch you? Then remember how the doctor came all the way up here, to do the surgery himself, and then you were in good shape again?"
"I can't believe it! Becky, you should do such a thingfor me, to save my l ife. I couldn't have a more wonderful wife. To do such a thing, you must really love me darling. I couldn't be more moved. So, all right then, when was number 3?"
"Well, Sam, remember a few years ago, when you really wanted to be president of the golf club and you were 17 votes short..?" wow Power Leveling wow Power Leveling
Silent night Holy night Snowfall on this Christmas sight Love all around As we sing our Christmas cheer Sit around the tree Hands held high As the wind whispers a gentle Christmas sigh Gentle twinkling scattered about it¡¯s branches Snow gently falls We lift our faces to the sky Faces shine in a rosy glow Around and around we go Spinning twirling swirling in the snow The world is at peace tonight As love glows in a romantic¡¯s eye Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light Forget all the world Be at peace tonight Let the warmth of the time fill you Snow fall covers all Have a happy Christmas all
The Magic Shoes and Staff « Result #3 on Mar 9, 2009, 9:45pm »
Far, far away in a town of India called Chinchini, where in days long gone by the ancient gods in whom the people believed are said sometimes to have appeared to those who called upon them for help, there lived three brothers of noble birth, who had never known what it was to want for food, or clothes, or a house to live in. Each was married to a wife he loved, and for many years they were all as happy as the day was long. Presently however a great misfortune in which they all shared befell their native country. There was no rain for many, many weeks; and this is a very serious thing in a hot country like India, because, when it does not rain for a long time, the ground becomes so parched and hard that nothing can grow in it. The sun is very much stronger in India than it is in England; and it sent forth its burning rays, drying up all the water in the tanks and changing what had been, a beautiful country, covered with green crops good for food, into a dreary desert, where neither men nor animals could get anything to eat. The result of this was that there was a terrible famine, in which hundreds of people and animals died, little children being the first to suffer.
Now the three brothers, who had none of them any children, got frightened at the state of things, and thought to themselves, "If we do not escape from this dreadful land, we shall die." They said to each other: "Let us flee away from here, and go somewhere where we are sure of being able to get plenty to eat and drink. We will not take our wives with us; they would only make things worse for us; let us leave them to look after themselves."
So the three wives were deserted, and had to manage as best they could without their husbands, who did not even trouble to wish them goodbye. The wives were at first very sad and lonely, but presently a great joy came to one of them which made the other two very happy as well. This joy was the birth of a little boy, whose two aunts loved him almost as much as his mother did. The story does not tell how they all got food whilst the famine was going on, though it is very evident that they were not starved, for the baby boy grew fast and was a strong healthy little fellow.
One night all the three wives had the same dream, a very wonderful one, in which the god Siva, who is very much honoured in India, appeared to them. He told them that, looking down from Heaven, he had noticed how tenderly they cared for the new-born baby, and that he wished them to call him Putraka. Besides this he astonished them by adding that, as a reward for the unselfish way in which they had behaved, they would find one hundred thousand gold pieces under the little child's pillow every morning, and that one day that little child would be a king.
The wonderful dream was fulfilled, and the mother and aunts called the boy Putraka. Every morning they found the gold pieces under his pillow, and they took care of the money for him, so that when he grew up he was the very richest man in the whole country. He had a happy childhood and boyhood, his only trouble being that he did not like having never seen his father. His mother told him about the famine before he was born, and how his father and uncles had gone away and never come back. He often said, "When I am a man I will find my father and bring him home again." He used his money to help others, and one of the best things he did was to irrigate the land; that is to say, he made canals into which water was made to flow in times when there was plenty of rain, so that there was no danger of there being another famine, such as that which had driven his father and uncles away. The country in which he lived became very fruitful; everybody had enough to eat and drink; and Putraka was very much loved, especially by the poor and unhappy. When the king who ruled over the land died, everybody wanted Putraka to take his place, and he was chosen at once.
One of the other wise things Putraka did, when he became king, was to make great friends with his Brahman subjects. Brahmans are always very fond of traveling, and Putraka thought, if he were good and generous to them, they would talk about him wherever they went, and that perhaps through them his father and uncles would hear about him. He felt sure that, if they knew he was now a king ruling over their native land, they would want to come back. He gave the Brahmans plenty of money, and told them to try and find his father and uncles. If they did, they were to say how anxious he was to see them, and promise them everything they wanted, if only they would return.
Just what the young king hoped came to pass. Wherever the Brahmans went they talked about the country they came from and the wonderful young king who ruled over it. Putraka's father and uncles, who were after all not so very far off, heard the stories about him, and asked the Brahmans many questions. The answers made them very eager to see Putraka, but they did not at first realize that he was closely related to them. Only when they heard the name of his mother did they guess the truth. Putraka's father knew, when he deserted his wife, that God was going to give her a child soon; which made it even more wicked of him to leave her. Now, however, he forgot all about that, only thinking how he could make as much use as possible of the son who had become a king. He wanted to go back at once alone, but the uncles were not going to allow that. They meant to get all they could out of Putraka too; and the three selfish men, who were now quite old, set off together for the land they had left so long ago.
They arrived safely, and made their way to the palace, where they were received, with great rejoicings. None of the wives, said a word of reproach to, the husbands who had deserted them; and as for Putraka, he was so overjoyed at having his father back, that he gave him a beautiful house to live in and a great deal of money. He was very good to his uncles too, and felt that he had now really nothing left to wish for.
The three wives very soon had good reason to wish their husbands had stayed away. Instead of being grateful for all Putraka's generosity, they were very unkind and exacting, never pleased with anything; and whatever they had given them, they were always trying to get more. In fact, they were silly as well as wicked; for they did not realize that this was not the way to make the king love them or wish to keep them with him. Presently they became jealous of Putraka, and began to wish to get rid of him. His father hated to feel that his son was king, whilst he was only one of that king's subjects; and he made up his mind to kill him, hoping that if he could only get rid of him he might rule over the country in his stead. He thought and thought how best to manage this, and did not at first mean to tell his brothers anything about it; but in the end he decided he had better have them on his side. So he invited them to go with him to a secret place to talk the matter over.
After many meetings the three wicked men decided that they would pay some one to kill the king, first making the murderer they chose swear that he would never tell who had ordered him to do the terrible deed. It was not very difficult to find a man bad enough to take money for such an evil purpose, and the next thing to do was to decide where and when the deed was to be done. Putraka had been very well brought up by his mother, and he often went to a beautiful temple near his palace to pray alone. He would sometimes stop there a long time, winning fresh wisdom and strength to do the work he was trusted with, and praying not only for himself, but for his father, his mother, his aunts and uncles, and for the people he loved so much.
The murderer was told to wait in this temple, and when the young king was absorbed in prayer, to fall suddenly upon him and kill him. Then, when Putraka was dead, he was to take his body and bury it far away in the depths of the forest where it could never be found. At first it seemed likely that this cruel plot would succeed. To make quite sure, the murderer got two other men as wicked as himself to come and help him, promising to give them a share in the reward. But the god who had taken care of Putraka ever since he was born, did not forget him now. As the young king prayed, forgetting everything in his earnest pleading for those he loved, he did not see or hear the evil men drawing stealthily close to him. Their arms were uplifted to slay him, and the gleam of the weapons in the light that was always kept burning flashed upon him, when suddenly the heavenly guardian of the temple, who never left it day or night, but was generally invisible, appeared and cast a spell upon the wicked men, whose hands were arrested in the very act to strike.
What a wonderful sight that must have been, when Putraka, disturbed in his prayers, looked round and saw the men who had come to kill him, with the shadowy form of the guardian threatening them! He knew at once that he had been saved from a dreadful death by a messenger from the god he had been worshipping. As he gazed at the men, the guardian faded away and he was left alone with them. Slowly the spell cast on them was broken, and they dropped their weapons, prostrated themselves, and clasped their hands in an appeal for mercy to the man they had meant to destroy. Putraka looked at them quietly and sadly. He felt no anger against them, only a great thankfulness for his escape. He spoke to the men very sternly, asking them why they wished to harm him; and the chief murderer told him who had sent them.
The knowledge that his father wished to kill him shocked and grieved the young long terribly, but he controlled himself even when he learnt the sad truth. He told the men that he forgave them, for they were not the most to blame; and he made them promise never to betray who had bribed them to kill him. He then gave them some money and told them to leave him.
When Putraka was alone, he threw himself upon the ground and wept very bitterly. He felt that he could never be happy again, never trust anyone again. He had so loved his father and uncles. It had been such a joy to him to give them pleasure, and yet they hated him and wished to kill him. He wondered whether he was himself to blame for what had happened, and began to think he was not worthy to be king, if he could make such a mistake as he now feared he had made in being so generous to those who could have such hard thoughts of him as to want to take his life. Perhaps after all it would be better for his country to have another king. He did not feel as if he could go back to his palace and meet his father and uncles again. "What shall I do? What shall I do?" he cried, his sobs choking his voice. Never in all his life had he thought it possible to be so miserable as he was now. Everything seemed changed and he felt as if he were himself a different person. The only thing that comforted him at all was the thought of his mother, whose love had never failed him; but even that was spoiled by the remembrance that it was her husband who had wished to kill him. She must never know that, for it would break her heart: yet how could he keep it from her? Then the idea came to him that the best thing he could do would be to go away and never see his own people again.
In the end the poor young king decided that he would go right away as his father and uncles had done; and his mind being made up, he became more cheerful and began to think he might meet with some interesting adventures in a new country, where nobody knew anything about him. As soon as it was light, he wandered off into the forest, feeling, it is true, very lonely, but at the same time taking a certain pleasure in being entirely his own master; which a king can never really be, because he has to consider so many other people and to keep so many rules.
After all Putraka did not find the forest so very lonely; for he had not gone far in it before his sad thoughts were broken in upon by his coming suddenly to a little clearing, where the trees had been cut down and two strong-looking men were wrestling together, the king watched them for a little while, wondering what they were fighting about. Then he called out, "What are you doing here? What are you quarrelling about?"
Once upon a time, there was a sad elephant. He was dirty and stinky, because he could not reach to wash his back. All the other animals didn¡¯t play with him because he was smelly. Elephant sat under a tree, where nobody could see him. He started to cry. His head was hanging down, crying big tears. He sat and cried for days. One day, when his tears had dried up, he went to itch his head and he felt a bump on his back. Then he noticed his nose had stretched because it had got wet with all the crying and it was now a long trunk which had hit him on his back. He went to the river and got his trunk, put it in the water and sucked the water up. Then he sprayed his back with water. All the other animals came over to him and said ¡°you are so clean and smell so lovely. Do you want to play with us?¡± The elephant was so happy and said ¡°yes.¡±
Forty-three years seems like a long time to remember the name of a mere acquaintance. I have duly forgotten the name of an old lady who was a customer on my paper route when I was a twelve-year-old boy in Marinette, Wisconsin back in 1954. wow power leveling Yet it seems like just yesterday that she taught me a lesson in forgiveness that I can only hope to pass on to someone else someday.
On a mindless Saturday afternoon, wow gold, a friend and I were throwing rocks onto the roof of the old lady¡¯s house from a secluded spot in her backyard. The object of our play was to observe how the rocks changed to missiles as they rolled to the roof¡¯s edge and shot out into the yard like comets falling from the sky.
I found myself a perfectly smooth rock and sent it for a ride. The stone was too smooth, however, so it slipped from my hand as I let it go and headed straight for a small window on the old lady¡¯s back porch. At the sound of fractured glass,wow power leveling we took off from the old lady¡¯s yard faster than any of our missiles flew off her roof.
I was too scared about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken porch window. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn¡¯t been discovered, I started to feel guilty for her misfortune. She still greeted me with a smile each day when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortable in her presence.
I made up my mind that I would save my paper delivery money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would cover the cost of her window.wow power leveling I put the money in an envelope with a note explaining that I was sorry for breaking her window and hoped that the seven dollars would cover the cost for repairing it.
I waited until it was dark, snuck up to the old lady¡¯s house, and put the envelope of retribution through the letter slot in her door. My soul felt redeemed and I couldn¡¯t wait for the freedom of, once again, looking straight into the old lady¡¯s eyes.
The next day, wow gold I handed the old lady her paper and was able to return the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, ¡°Here, I have something for you.¡± It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and proceeded to eat the cookies as I continued my route.
After several cookies,wow gold I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was stunned. Inside was the seven dollars and a short note that said, ¡°I¡¯m proud of you.¡±
It was my first day as newcomer to Miss Hargrove¡¯s seventh grade. Past ¡°newcomer¡± experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat, expecting to be shunned.
Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax.wow power leveling My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn¡¯t long before the class nerd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou English. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim, prissy young girl with a stern visage and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn¡¯t ugly -- not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty,wow gold but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but -- she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched, frilly blouse completed the image of a complete dork. The girls¡¯ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone.
After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school.wow power leveling I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative. We waited. For what, I didn¡¯t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn.
Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting began - rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I¡¯d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader.
I was not proud. Something inside me hurt.wow power leveling If you¡¯ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt.
Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and -- without a tear shed or retort given -- off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street.
I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father.wow gold Respectful of Mary Lou¡¯s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes -- shining with both grief and pride -- followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn¡¯t speak a word.
No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father&rsqu
o;s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity.wow gold I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.
Forty-three years seems like a long time to remember the name of a mere acquaintance. I have duly forgotten the name of an old lady who was a customer on my paper route when I was a twelve-year-old boy in Marinette, Wisconsin back in 1954. wow power leveling Yet it seems like just yesterday that she taught me a lesson in forgiveness that I can only hope to pass on to someone else someday.
On a mindless Saturday afternoon, wow gold, a friend and I were throwing rocks onto the roof of the old lady¡¯s house from a secluded spot in her backyard. The object of our play was to observe how the rocks changed to missiles as they rolled to the roof¡¯s edge and shot out into the yard like comets falling from the sky.
I found myself a perfectly smooth rock and sent it for a ride. The stone was too smooth, however, so it slipped from my hand as I let it go and headed straight for a small window on the old lady¡¯s back porch. At the sound of fractured glass,wow power leveling we took off from the old lady¡¯s yard faster than any of our missiles flew off her roof.
I was too scared about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken porch window. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn¡¯t been discovered, I started to feel guilty for her misfortune. She still greeted me with a smile each day when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortable in her presence.
I made up my mind that I would save my paper delivery money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would cover the cost of her window.wow power leveling I put the money in an envelope with a note explaining that I was sorry for breaking her window and hoped that the seven dollars would cover the cost for repairing it.
I waited until it was dark, snuck up to the old lady¡¯s house, and put the envelope of retribution through the letter slot in her door. My soul felt redeemed and I couldn¡¯t wait for the freedom of, once again, looking straight into the old lady¡¯s eyes.
The next day, wow gold I handed the old lady her paper and was able to return the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, ¡°Here, I have something for you.¡± It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and proceeded to eat the cookies as I continued my route.
After several cookies,wow gold I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was stunned. Inside was the seven dollars and a short note that said, ¡°I¡¯m proud of you.¡±
My Dad, My Source for Healing « Result #8 on Feb 13, 2009, 11:05pm »
I have been gobbling up your stories for years. I own all your books (and the game, too). I love what each story has to offer in its meaning and new perspective on life. I would like to take the opportunity to share what got me through a difficult breakup in high school-my dad. When most of my friends were bickering with their fathers,wow power leveling I was looking to mine for guidance. He knows more about me than anyone, even myself at times. He travels for work and so he's gone a lot. Most people assume we have a distant relationship because he's not home very often. But we thrive under this situation because we talk every night by phone, and he makes his support known when he can't be present. One night my world just collapsed, and it was my dad who was able to pick up the pieces. My first true love called from a party and broke my heart. He offered little explanation and this made the situation all the more difficult to accept In that one quick phone call I lost my boyfriend and best friend,wow gold a comfort I had enjoyed for the past year and a half. I was sure I was the most miserable fifteen?year?old in the world-lost and lonely. It felt like everyone else's life could just continue on in its normal way, but mine couldn't. I would no longer spend hours on the phone with him each night, and his house would no longer be my home away from home. I was forced to deal with my regular routine on Monday morning, as Mom went to work, Dad flew out on business and I went to school. Dad wouldn't return until Friday. I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to face everyone and their gossip at school. I was right: the questions and the whispering started around second period. I returned home from school feeling completely defeated.wow power leveling All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and wallow in my own self?pity. I pulled back the covers on my bed and discovered a pile of cards left by my dad. I recognized the "calligraphy" instantly. Each card included an instruction that it was to be opened on a particular night that week. He was halfway across the country and still my dad was able to show he cared. I made it through that week because of him.wow gold Each card seemed to say just what I needed to hear. Tuesday's card said, "The past is painful to think about and the future is impossible to envision. Don't try. Just take it one minute at a time." On Wednesday my mood lifted when I read, "What you are feeling now is natural and normal. It still feels lousy, but it is part of the healing process." Friday's card contained a poem he wrote. The last lines made me smile through my tears.wow gold "Whatever special challenges you face along life's way/May you trust that you will find the best in every day." I was instructed to open the last card after the party I went to on Saturday night. In it he sagely reminded me to laugh. "The world isn't so bad after a good laugh. The more you laugh, the more you heal."wow power leveling Each card was signed, Love, Dad. Even just flipping through the cards made me feel better in the weeks to come. I looked through them most days until I started to forget about them. It was then that I knew that I was healing
She is my wife, my lover, my best friend. For over fourteen years, our marriage has endured and grown. I can honestly state that after all this time together, my love for Patricia has not diminished in the slightest way.wow power leveling In fact, through each passing day, I find myself more and more enraptured by her beauty. The best times of my life are the times we spend together, whether sitting quietly watching television or enjoying an afternoon at a San Diego Chargers game.
There is no secret to why our marriage has lasted while so many others have failed. There is no formula for success that I can offer, other than to express that the most important feature of our relationship is that it has never lost the sense of romance that bloomed when we first met. Too often marriage kills the romance that was born in the courtship of a relationship. To me, I have always felt that I am still courting Patricia, and therefore the romance has never died.
Romance is not something that can be taught or copied. One can only be romantic through another.wow gold Patricia, my wife of fourteen years, has instilled the romance in me. I am romantic because of her. Patricia has always brought out the best in me. The many aspects of our romance are too numerous to mention. However, there is one special romantic interlude that I began over fifteen years ago.
Before we were married, Patricia and I could not see each other as much as we would have like during the week. The weekends always went too fast, and the days in between dragged on forever. wow power leveling I decided that I needed to do something to make the weekdays go faster, or at least to give us something to look forward to during the week.
And so it began on Wednesday some fifteen years ago: I bought a card and gave it to Patricia. There was no special occasion.wow gold The card was just an expression of how much I loved her and How much I was thinking about her. I picked Wednesday for no special reason other than it was the middle of the week.
Since that day, I have never missed a Wednesday -- Patricia has received a card from me every Wednesday, every week, every month, every year.
The purchase of the card each week is not done out of habit. It is my romantic mission each week to find the right card. At times, my search takes me to many different card stores to find that perfect offering.wow gold I have been known to spend a considerable amount of time in front of the card displays, reading up to a dozen different cards before I choose the right one. The picture and the words in the card must have specific meaning to me and must remind me in some way of Patricia and our life together. The card needs to evoke an emotion in me. I know that if a card brings a tear of happiness to my eyes, I have found the right one.
Patricia awakens each Wednesday morning to find her card, and even though she knows it will be there, she still lights up with excitement when she tears
open the envelope and reads what is inside.wow power leveling And I still get just as excited giving each card to her.
At the foot of our bed is a brass chest that is filled with all of the greeting cards Patricia has received from me over the past fifteen years, hundreds and hundreds of cards, each one full of just as much love as the next. I can only hope that our life together will last long enough for me to fill ten brass chests with my weekly messages of love, affection and most of all thanks for the joy Patricia has brought to my life.
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