Stories to think about

[n/a2]

How rich or poor are you?

One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country
with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people can be.
They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would
be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."
"Did you see how poor people can be?" the father asked.
"Oh Yeah" said the son.
"So what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.
The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog and they had four."
"We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have
a creek that has no end."
"We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night."
"Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon."
"We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight."
"We have servants who serve us, but they serve others."
"We buy our food, but they grow theirs."
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."
With this the boy's father was speechless.
Then his son added, "Thanks dad for showing me how poor we are."
Too many times we forget what we have and concentrate on what we don't have.
What is one person's worthless object is another's prize possession.
It is all based on one's perspective.
Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks to God
for all the bounty we have been provided by Him,
instead of worrying about wanting more.



I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

Story of jenny
Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with such great ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.

How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting, she'd have friends over soon.
There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy.
It's just the way she wanted her life to be.


On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date!
She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"


To be known in this school you had to have clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out.
There was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.


"Well, I just wont' tell them the entire truth.
They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"


Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."


Excited, she got ready for the big event
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies,
But what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride?


Well, the pizza was good, and the party was great,
but the moonlight ride would have to wait
For Jeff was half drunk by this time.


But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.
Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.
Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point,
but only after he'd smoked another joint.


They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Jeff started trying to make a pass.


A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all
(and by a pass, I don't mean playing football).
"Perhaps my parents were right...maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb."


With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away
"Please take me home, I don't want to stay."
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.


As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
but he just got faster as they neared the town.


"Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
" Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"


She doesn't remember the force of impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!"


Voices she heard...a few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,
And if the people in the other car were alive.


She woke in the hospital to faces so sad.
"You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad.
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.


They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.
But it looks as if we'll lose you too."
"But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.
"We are sorry, Jenny, they also died."


Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done,
I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them."


"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry that I lied,
And that it's my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there, she never agreed.


But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes,
And a few moments later Jenny died.


A man asked the nurse,
"Why didn't you do your best to bid that girl her
one last request?"


She looked at the man with eyes oh so sad.
"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."
This story is sad and unpleasant but true,
So young people take heed, it could have been you!




I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

A Sandpiper To Bring You Joy
~*^*~*^*~+~*^*~*^*~


She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. "Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child. "I'm building," she said. "I see that. What is it?" I asked, not caring. "Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand." That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by. "That's a joy," the child said. "It's a what?" "It's a joy." My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went gliding down the beach. "Good-bye joy," I muttered to myself, "hello pain," and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance. "What's your name?" She wouldn't give up. "Ruth," I answered. "I'm Ruth Peterson." "Mine's Wendy... I'm six." "Hi, Wendy." She giggled. "You're funny," she said. In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me. "Come again, Mrs. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day. The days and weeks that followed belong to others a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. "I need a sandpiper," I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared. "Hello, Mrs. P," she said. "Do you want to play?" "What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance. "I don't know, you say." "How about charades?" I asked sarcastically. The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is." "Then let's just walk." Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked. "Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter. "Where do you go to school?" "I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed. three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seems unusually pale and out of breath. "Why?" she asked. I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child? "Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day." "Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and-oh, go away!" "Did it hurt? " she inquired. "Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself. "When she died?" "Of course it hurt!!!!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off. A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door. "Hello," I said. "I'm Ruth Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was." "Oh yes, Mrs. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies." "Not at all-she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. "Where is she?" "Wendy died last week, Mrs. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you." Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught. "She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." her voice faltered. "She left something for you ... if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?" I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MRS. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words one for each year of her life - that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color of sand-who taught me the gift of love.

NOTE I hope you have a few Kleenex tissues left in that box. The above is a true story sent out by Ruth Peterson. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. "The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less." Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas, can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a monetary setback or crisis. This weekend, be sure to give your love ones an extra hugs, and by all means, take a moment ... even if it is only ten seconds, and stop and smell the roses.



I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

A story to touch the heart

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


There was an atheist couple who had a child.
The couple never told their daughter anything about the Lord.
One night when the little girl was 5 years old, the parents fought
with each other and the dad shot the Mom, right in front of the child.
Then, the dad shot himself. The little girl watched it all.
She then was sent to a foster home.
The foster mother was a Christian and took the child to church.
On the first day of Sunday School, the foster mother told the teacher
that the girl had never heard of Jesus, and to have patience with her.
The teacher held up a picture of Jesus and said,
"Does anyone know who this is?"
The little girl said, "I do, that's the man who was holding
me the night my parents died."



I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

I BLIND MYSELF
~*^*~*^*~


Because you're not what I would have you be, I blind myself
to who, in truth, you are.
Sometimes we expect far too much of the people around us, and
because no one can ever live up to those expectations, we are
almost always disappointed.
But wouldn't it be better if we just let go, and let people be
who they are? Then we'd be able to see them as they are--with
all their beauty and goodness in which we take joy, and with
all their faults which we can also see in ourselves.

When we have put someone up on a pedestal, sculpturing them
to fit our needs and desires by smoothing out the rough edges
and creating new curves here and there, we cannot see the
real person underneath our work. All we see is the illusion we
have created.
That is denying the person's real identity and is disrespectful.
It's much better for our friends and for ourselves if we drop
our expectations and illusions, and accept them all just the
way they are.



I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

Death of the Innocent
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^



I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead
I really felt proud inside, Mom, the way you said I would.
I didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though the others said I should.
I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you are always right.
Now the party is finally ending, Mom, as everyone is driving out of sight.
As I got into my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece.
Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet.
I started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled out into the road,
the other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load.
As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I hear the policeman say,
the other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the one who will pay.
I'm lying here dying, Mom.. I wish you'd get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mom? My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine.
I hear the medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time.
It was the others, Mom. The others didn't think.
He was probably at the same party as I.
The only difference is, he drank and I will die.
Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life.
The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair.
I'm lying here dying and all he can do is stare.
Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be brave.
And when I go to heaven, Mom, put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave.
Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive.
If only they had told him, Mom, I would still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared.
Please don't cry for me, Mom. When I needed you, you were always there.
I have one last question, Mom, before I say good bye.
I didn't drink and drive, so why am I the one to die?

************************
Someone took the effort to write this poem. So
please, forward this to as many people as you can.
And see if we can get a chain going around the
world that will make people understand that drinking
and driving don't mix.




I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

Bill was a big, awkward, homely guy. He dressed oddly with ill-fitting clothes. There were several fellows who thought it smart to make fun of him. One day one fellow noticed a small tear in his shirt and gave it a small rip. Another worker in the factory added his bit, and before long there was quite a ribbon dangling. Bill went on about his work and as he passed too near a moving belt the shirt strip was sucked into the machinery. In a split second the sleeve and Bill were in trouble. Alarms were sounded, switches pulled, and trouble was avoided.

The foreman, however, aware of what had happened, summoned the men and related this story "In my younger days I worked in a small factory. That's when I first met Mike. He was big and witty, was always making jokes, and playing little pranks. Mike was a leader. Then there was Pete who was a follower. He always went along with Mike. And then there was a man named Jake. "He was a little older than the rest of us - quiet, harmless, apart. He always ate his lunch by himself. He wore the same patched trousers for three years straight. He never entered into the games we played at noon, wrestling, horse shoes and such. He appeared to be indifferent, always sitting quietly alone under a tree instead. Jake was a natural target for practical jokes. "He might find a live frog in his dinner pail, or a dead rodent in his hat. But he always took it in good humor.

Then one Fall when things were slack, Mike took off a few days to go hunting. Pete went along, of course. And they promised all of us that if they got anything they'd bring us each a piece. "So we were all quite excited when we heard that they'd returned and that Mike had got a really big buck. We heard more than that. Pete could never keep anything to himself, and it leaked out that they had real whopper to play on Jake. "Mike had cut up the critter and had made a nice package for each of us. And, for the laugh, for the joke of it, he had saved the ears, the tail, the hoofs - it would be so funny when Jake unwrapped them.


"Mike distributed his packages during the noon hour. We each got a nice piece, opened it, and thanked him. The biggest package of all he saved until last. It was for Jake. Pete was all but bursting; and Mike looked very smug. Like always, Jake sat by himself; he was on the far side of the big table. Mike pushed the package over to where he could reach it; and we all sat and waited. "Jake was never one to say much. You might never know that he was around for all the talking he did. In three years he'd never said a hundred words. So we were all quite astounded with what happened next. He took the package firmly in his grip and rose slowly to his feet.

He smiled broadly at Mike - and it was then we noticed that his eyes were glistening. His adam's apple bobbed up and down for a moment and then he got control of himself. "'I knew you wouldn't forget me,' he said gratefully; 'I knew you'd come through! You're big and you're playful, but I knew all along that you had a good heart.' "He swallowed again, and then took in the rest of us. 'I know I haven't seemed too chummy with you men; but I never meant to be rude.

You see, I've got nine kids at home - and a wife that's been an invalid - bedfast now for four years. She ain't ever going to get any better. And sometimes when she's real bad off, I have to sit up all night to take care of her. And most of my wages have had to go for doctors and medicine. The kids do all they can to help out, but at times it's been hard to keep food in their mouths. Maybe you think it's funny that I go off by myself to eat my dinner.

Well, I guess I've been a little ashamed, because I don't always have anything between my sandwich. Or like today - maybe there's only a raw turnip in my pail. But I want you to know that this meat really means a lot to me. Maybe more than to anybody here because tonight my kids . . .' he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, '. . . tonight my kids will have a really . . .' "He tugged at the string.

We'd been watching Jake so intently we hadn't paid much notice to Mike and Pete. But we all noticed them now, because they both dove at once to try to grab the package. But they were too late. Jake had broken the wrapper and was already surveying his present. He examined each hoof, each ear, and then he held up the tail. It wiggled limply. It should have been so funny, but nobody laughed - nobody at all. "But the hardest part was when Jake looked up and said 'Thank you' while trying to smile.

Silently one by one each man moved forward carrying his package and quietly placed it in front of Jake for they had suddenly realized how little their own gift had really meant to them . . . until now . . .

This was where the foreman left the story and the men. He didn't need to say anymore; but it was gratifying to notice that as each man ate his lunch that day, they shared part with Bill and one fellow even took off his shirt and gave it to him."






I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

THE LITTLEST FIREFIGHTER

The 26-year-old mother stared down at her son who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible.
The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dreams to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, "Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"
"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."
Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true,"



Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her six-year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, "Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! "And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy one - with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get them fast."



Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his fire uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.
Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the paramedic's van and even the fire chief's car. He was also video taped for the local news program.
Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a fireman, so she called the fire chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition. The chief replied, " We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor?
When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It's just the fire department coming to see one of it's finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room? Thanks."


About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital, extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window and 16 firefighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they loved him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?"
"Billy, you are," the chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and closed his eyes one last time.



I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER
I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love yous".. more "I'm sorrys"... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.


I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a2]

A Child's Prayer

IS HEAVEN IN THE YELLOW PAGES

Mommy went to Heaven, but I need her here today,
My tummy hurts and I fell down, I need her right away.

Operator can you tell me how to find her in this book?
Is heaven in the yellow part, I don't know where to look.

I think my daddy needs her too, at night I hear him cry.
I hear him call her name sometimes, but I really don't know why.

Maybe if I call her, she will hurry home to me.
Is Heaven very far away, is it across the sea?

She's been gone a long, long time she needs to come home now!
I really need to reach her, but I simply don't know how.

Help me find the number please, is it listed under "Heaven"?
I can't read these big words, I am only seven.

I'm sorry operator, I didn't mean to make you cry,
Is your tummy hurting too, or is there something in your eye?

If I call my church maybe they will know.
Mommy said when we need help that's where we should go.

I found the number to my church tacked up on the wall.
Thank you operator, I'll give them a call


I lie I steal I cheat So people can feel my LATINO HEAT

[n/a1]

Just stop being a prick...............you are messing up with the forums.