Puppies for Sale
By: Author Unknown

A store owner was tacking a sign above his door that read
“Puppies For Sale.” Signs like that have a way of attracting
small children, and sure enough, a little boy appeared under
the store owner’s sign. “How much are you going to sell the
puppies for?” he asked.

The store owner replied, “Anywhere from $30 to $50.”

The little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out some
change. “I have $2.37,” he said. “Can I please look at
them?”

The store owner smiled and whistled and out of the kennel
came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his store followed by
five teeny, tiny balls of fur. One puppy was lagging
considerably behind. Immediately the little boy singled out
the lagging, limping puppy and said, “What’s wrong with that
little dog?”

The store owner explained that the veterinarian had examined
the little puppy and had discovered it didn’t have a hip
socket. It would always limp. It would always be lame. The
little boy became excited. “That is the puppy that I want to
buy.”

The store owner said, “No, you don’t want to buy that little
dog. If you really want him, I’ll just give him to you.”

The little boy got quite upset. He looked straight into the
store owner’s eyes, pointing his finger, and said, “I don’t
want you to give him to me. That little dog is worth every
bit as much as all the other dogs and I’ll pay full price.
In fact, I’ll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a month until
I have him paid for.”

The store owner countered, “You really don’t want to buy
this little dog. He is never going to be able to run and
jump and play with you like the other puppies.”

To his surprise, the little boy reached down and rolled up
his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg
supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the store
owner and softly replied, “Well, I don’t run so well myself,
and the little puppy will need someone who understands!”

Do you have someone who Understands!

Click on the Photo to see how good Your Xray Vision Is….

Little Boy At A Big Piano

By: Author Unknown

Wishing to encourage her young son’s progress on the piano, a mother took her boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted a friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked “NO ADMITTANCE.” When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy’s ear, “Don’t quit. Keep playing.” Then leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child and he added a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.The audience was mesmerized.

That’s the way it is in life. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren’t exactly graceful flowing music.

But when we trust in the hands of a Greater Power, our life’s work truly can be beautiful. Next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You can hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, “Don’t quit. Keep playing.”

Handwriting on the Wall
By: Author Unknown

A weary mother returned from the store,
Lugging groceries through the kitchen door.
Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year old son,
Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.

“While I was out playing and Dad was on a call,
T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!
It’s on the new paper you just hung in the den.
I told him you’d be mad at having to do it again.”

She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,
“Where is your little brother right now?”
She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,
She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.

She called his full name as she entered his room.
He trembled with fear–he knew that meant doom!
For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved
About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved.

Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,
She condemned his actions and total lack of care.
The more she scolded, the madder she got,
Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!

She headed for the den to confirm her fears.
When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.
The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.
It said, “I love Mommy,” surrounded by a heart.

Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,
With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.
A reminder to her, and indeed to all,
Take time to read the handwriting on the wall

TRUE WEALTH IS WHAT IS LEFT AFTER ALL MATERIAL THINGS ARE GONE

Giving When It Counts
By: Author Unknown

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital,
I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from
a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery
appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year-old
brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and
had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.
The doctor explained the situation to her little brother,
and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his
blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment
before taking a deep breath and saying, “Yes, I’ll do it if
it will save her.”

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his
sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning
to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded.
He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice,
“Will I start to die right away?”.

Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he
thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his
blood in order to save her.

Beautiful Pearls
By: Author Unknown

Jenny was a bright-eyed, pretty five-year-old girl.

One day when she and her mother were checking out at the
grocery store, Jenny saw a plastic pearl necklace priced at
$2.50. How she wanted that necklace, and when she asked her
mother if she would buy it for her, her mother said, “Well,
it is a pretty necklace, but it costs an awful lot of money.
I’ll tell you what. I’ll buy you the necklace, and when we
get home we can make up a list of chores that you can do to
pay for the necklace. And don’t forget that for your
birthday Grandma just might give you a whole dollar bill,
too. Okay?” Jenny agreed, and her mother bought the pearl
necklace for her.

Jenny worked on her chores very hard every day, and sure
enough, her grandma gave her a brand new dollar bill for her
birthday. Soon Jenny had paid off the pearls. How Jenny
loved those pearls. She wore them everywhere, to
kindergarten, bed and when she went out with her mother to
run errands. The only time she didn’t wear them was in the
shower. Her mother had told her that they would turn her
neck green!

Now Jenny had a very loving daddy. When Jenny went to bed,
he would get up from his favorite chair every night and read
Jenny her favorite story.

One night when he finished the story, he said, “Jenny, do
you love me?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you,” the little girl said.

“Well, then, give me your pearls.”

“Oh! Daddy, not my pearls!” Jenny said. “But you can have
Rosy, my favorite doll. Remember her? You gave her to me
last year for my birthday. And you can have her tea party
outfit, too. Okay?”

“Oh no, darling, that’s okay.” Her father brushed her cheek
with a kiss. “Good night, little one.”

A week later, her father once again asked Jenny after her
story, “Do you love me?”

“Oh yes, Daddy, you know I love you.”

“Well, then, give me your pearls.”

“Oh, Daddy, not my pearls! But you can have Ribbons, my toy
horse. Do you remember her? She’s my favorite. Her hair is
so soft, and you can play with it and braid it and
everything. You can have Ribbons if you want her, Daddy, the
little girl said to her father.

“No, that’s okay,” her father said and brushed her cheek
again with a kiss. God bless you, little one. Sweet dreams.”

Several days later, when Jenny’s father came in to read her
a story, Jenny was sitting on her bed and her lip was
trembling. ” Here, Daddy,” she said, and held out her hand.
She opened it and her beloved pearl necklace was inside. She
let it slip into her father’s hand.

With one hand her father held the plastic pearls and the
other he pulled out of his pocket a blue velvet box. Inside
of the box were real, genuine, beautiful pearls. He had had
them all along. He was waiting for Jenny to give up the
cheap stuff so he could give her the real thing.

So it is in life. It isn’t necessarily true that everything
expensive is good, but sometimes you need to trust in
yourself, to know who to trust and to know when to give
something up as something better is coming along.

Mother’s Day Rose
By: Author Unknown

A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be
wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away. As he
got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the
curb sobbing.

He asked her what was wrong and she replied, “I wanted to
buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five
cents, and a rose costs two dollars.”

The man smiled and said, “Come on in with me. I’ll buy you a
rose.”

He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own
mother’s flowers.

As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home.

She said, “Yes, please! You can take me to my mother.”

She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on
a freshly dug grave.

The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire
order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles
to his mother’s house.

More Each Day
By: Author Unknown

Today you know more than you did at this time yesterday.

Today you are one day closer to becoming the person you were
meant to be.

Today you have more experience, and more wisdom than you did
just one day ago.

So what’s the best thing to do today? More!

You are more today than you’ve ever been before. What a
waste it would be to ignore that! What a waste it would be
not to make full use of it! Now that you’ve become more,
it’s time to do more.

Right now, you have what it takes to put more effort into
your work, more love into your relationships, more
discipline into your actions, more passion into your life.

The tools and opportunities available to you have grown. So
use them to make your results and your life grow, too - not
next week, not in a few days, but right now.

What can you improve just a little bit today? Those little
improvements add up, compounding on each other until you’ve
soon forged your life into a masterpiece.

You have more today than ever before. So go out and make
more of this day than you’ve ever done.

Today is truly golden, and you have what it takes to make
your life shine more brightly with each passing moment.

You really can do it, you know!

Recipe For Life
Author: Unknown

A little boy is telling his Grandma how “everything” is
going wrong. School, family problems, severe health
problems, etc. Meanwhile, Grandma is baking a cake. She asks
her grandson if he would like a snack, which of course he
does.

“Here, have some cooking oil.”

“Yuck” says the boy.

“How about a couple raw eggs? ”

“Gross, Grandma!”

“Would you like some flour then? Or maybe baking soda?”

“Grandma, those are all yucky!”

To which Grandma replies: “Yes, all those things seem bad
all by themselves. But when they are put together in the
right way, they make a wonderfully delicious cake!

Many times we wonder why we have to go through such bad and
difficult times. But, there is a reason all these things
happen.Try not to look at one or two bad or good things but
look at the big picture and take something positive from it.

How to Improve your Odds>>>>>

Thanks For Taking Care of Me
By: Author Unknown

Like most elementary schools, it was typical to have a
parade of students in and out of the health clinic
throughout the day. We dispensed ice for bumps and bruises,
Band-Aids for cuts, and liberal doses of sympathy and hugs.
As principal, my office was right next door to the clinic,
so I often dropped in to lend a hand and help out with the
hugs. I knew that for some kids, mine might be the only one
they got all day.

One morning I was putting a Band-Aid on a little girl’s
scraped knee. Her blonde hair was matted, and I noticed that
she was shivering in her thin little sleeveless blouse. I
found her a warm sweatshirt and helped her pull it on.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” she whispered as she climbed
into my lap and snuggled up against me.

It wasn’t long after that when I ran across an unfamiliar
lump under my arm. Cancer, an aggressively spreading kind,
had already invaded thirteen of my lymph nodes. I pondered
whether or not to tell the students about my diagnosis. The
word breast seemed so hard to say out loud to them, and the
word cancer seemed so frightening.

When it became evident that the children were going to find
out one way or another, either the straight scoop from me or
possibly a garbled version from someone else, I decided to
tell them myself. It wasn’t easy to get the words out, but
the empathy and concern I saw in their faces as I explained
it to them told me I had made the right decision. When I
gave them a chance to ask questions, they mostly wanted to
know how they could help. I told them that what I would like
best would be their letters, pictures and prayers.

I stood by the gym door as the children solemnly filed out.
My little blonde friend darted out of line and threw herself
into my arms. Then she stepped back to look up into my face.
“Don’t be afraid, Dr. Perry,” she said earnestly, “I know
you’ll be back because now it’s our turn to take care of
you.”

No one could have ever done a better job. The kids sent me
off to my first chemotherapy session with a hilarious book
of nausea remedies that they had written. A video of every
class in the school singing get-well songs accompanied me to
the next chemotherapy appointment. By the third visit, the
nurses were waiting at the door to find out what I would
bring next. It was a delicate music box that played “I Will
Always Love You.”

Even when I went into isolation at the hospital for a bone
marrow transplant, the letters and pictures kept coming
until they covered every wall of my room.

Then the kids traced their hands onto colored paper, cut
them out and glued them together to make a freestanding
rainbow of helping hands. “I feel like I’ve stepped into
Disneyland every time I walk into this room,” my doctor
laughed. That was even before the six-foot apple blossom
tree arrived adorned with messages written on paper apples
from the students and teachers. What healing comfort I found
in being surrounded by these tokens of their caring.

At long last I was well enough to return to work. As I
headed up the road to the school, I was suddenly overcome by
doubts. What if the kids have forgotten all about me? I
wondered, What if they don’t want a skinny bald principal?
What if I caught sight of the school marquee as I rounded
the bend. “Welcome Back, Dr. Perry,” it read. As I drew
closer, everywhere I looked were pink ribbons - ribbons in
the windows, tied on the doorknobs, even up in the trees.
The children and staff wore pink ribbons, too.

My blonde buddy was first in line to greet me. “You’re back,
Dr. Perry, you’re back!” she called. “See, I told you we’d
take care of you!”

As I hugged her tight, in the back of my mind I faintly
heard my music box playing… “I will always love you.”

DR Townsend The Renown Gynecological Oncologist Says “Now You Can Stop The Nausea and Even Dump The Lumps With An Ancient Natural Treatment. To Get Your Free Reports Of Survive Stories and What You Can Do Send an Email to:

“FreeCancerSurviveReports@getleverage.biz”