Issue 4: Joy
A Touch of Heart: A Merry Heart Doeth Good
One of the greatest joys of the Internet is receiving emails from around the world. Poignant stories, clever jokes, and thoughtful prose lighten my day. I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.
Joys of Womanhood
from Chris, California
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst, for they are sticking to their diets.- Life is an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hairstylist you like.
- You're getting old when you get the same sensation from a rocking chair that you once got from a roller coaster.
- Perhaps you know why women over fifty don't have babies: they would put them down somewhere and forget where they left them.
- One of life's mysteries is how a two-pound box of candy can make a woman gain five pounds.
- It's frustrating when you know all the answers, but nobody bothers to ask you the questions.
- If you can remain calm, you just don't have all the facts.
- I finally got my head together, and my body fell apart.
- The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing in the right place, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.
- Time may be a great healer, but it's also a lousy beautician.
- Brain cells come and brains cells go, but fat cells live forever.
- Age doesn't always bring wisdom. Sometimes age comes alone.
- Life not only begins at forty; it begins to show.
- Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.
- Sometimes I think I understand everything; then I regain consciousness.
- If at first you don't succeed, see if the loser gets anything.
- You don't stop laughing because you grow old; you grow old because you stop laughing.
- I don't mind the rat race, but I could do with a little more cheese.
- I have to give up jogging for my health. My thighs kept rubbing together and setting my pantyhose on fire.
- Amazing! You just hang something in your closet for awhile and it shrinks two sizes.
- It is bad to suppress laughter; it goes back down and spreads to your hips.
- Age is important only if you're cheese or wine.
- The only time a woman wishes she were a year older is when she is expecting a baby.
- Freedom of the press means no-iron clothes.
- Inside some of us is a thin person struggling to get out, but she can usually be sedated with a few pieces of chocolate cake. Can it be a mistake that "stressed" is "desserts" spelled backwards?
Nobody
from Joy
If nobody smiled and nobody cared and nobody helped us along. If every moment looked after itself and good things always went to the strong.
If nobody cared just a little about you and nobody cared about me, and we stood alone, in the battle of life,
what a dreary old world this would be. Life is sweet, just because of friends we have made and the things which in common we share. We want to live on, not because of ourselves, but because of the people who care.
It is doing and giving for somebody else on which all of life's splendor depends. The joy of this world, when you've summed it all up, is found in the making of friends
The Church of The Covered Dish by Thom Tapp
God's Chair
from Amy, Washington
A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with
her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The pastor
assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.
"I guess you were expecting me," he said. "No, who are you?" "I'm the new associate at your local church," the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up." "Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?" Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.
"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest: Sit down on a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be with you always. 'Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now.' So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours very day. I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me to off to the funny farm."
The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church. Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon. "Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked. "Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, in fact, beyond strange, really weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed." -- author unknown
"Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape" From Jackie, California
I've Learned
from Chris, California
I've learned… that the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.
I've learned… that just one person saying to me, "You've made my day!" makes my day.
I've learned… that being kind is more important than being right.
I've learned… that I can always pray for someone when I don't have the strength to help
him in some other way.
I've learned… that no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a
friend to act goofy with.
I've learned… that sometimes all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to
understand.
I've learned… that life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to he end, the
faster it goes.
I've learned… that under everyone's hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and
loved.
I've learned… that the Lord didn't do it all in one day. What makes me think I can?
I've learned… that when you plan to get even with someone, you are only letting that
person continue to hurt you.
I've learned… that everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile.
I've learned… that no one is perfect until you fall in love with them.
I've learned… that life is tough, but I'm tougher.
I've learned… that opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.
I've learned… that when you harbor bitterness, happiness will dock elsewhere.
I've learned… that I wish I could have told my Mom that I love her one more time before
she passed away.
I've learned… that you should never jump off a diving board when wearing a bikini.
I've learned… that one should keep his words both soft and tender, because tomorrow I may
have to eat them.
I've learned… that I can't choose how I feel, but I can choose what I do about it.
I've learned… that when you're newly born grandchild holds your little finger in is
little fist, that you're hooked for life.
I've learned… that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.
I've learned… that it is best to give advice in only two circumstances; when it is
requested and when it is a life-threatening situation.
I've learned… that the less time I have to work with, the more things I get done.
Happiness is a journey…not a destination.
ALL GOOD THINGS
by Sister Helen Mrosla submitted by Tony, Washington
He was in the first third grade class I taught at
Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a
million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his
occasional mischievousness delightful. Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again
and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere
response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me,
Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a
day.
One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice teacher's mistake. I looked at Mark and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!" It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it. I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape. Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it!! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."
At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in third. One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers. Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend."
That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much." No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a lull in the conversation. Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began. "Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is." Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend."
To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark. I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was, "Mark I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me." The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to bless the coffin.
As I stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said. After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it." Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him. "Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it." Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists." That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
Ice Cream for The Soul
from Paul, California Author Unknown
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 good. God is great. Thank you 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
gentle man 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 kid's 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." The End
A Child-Like Heart
from Peggy, Idaho
A small child walked daily to and from school. Though the weather one morning was questionable and clouds were forming, this child made the daily trek to the elementary school.
As the day progressed, the winds whipped up, along with thunder and lightning.
The mother was worried that her child would be frightened walking back home from school, and she herself feared the electrical storm might harm her child. Following the roar of the thunder, lightning would cut through the sky like a flaming sword. Being concerned, the mother got into her car and drove along the route to her child's school. Soon she saw her small child walking along, but at each flash of lightning, the child would stop, look and smile. One followed another, each time with her child stopping, looking at the streak of light and smiling. Finally, the mother called and asked, "What are you doing?" Her child answered, "God keeps taking pictures of me"
"A Meno Moment"
by Pastor Sanders, Ohio
Two elderly ladies had been friends
for many decades. Over the years they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards.
One day they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, "Now don't get mad at me… I know we've been friends for a long time… but I just can't think of your name! I've thought and thought, but I can't remember it. Please tell me what your name is."
Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and glared at her. Finally she said, "How soon do you need to know?"
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