Two Frogs
By: Author Unknown

A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two
of them fell into a deep pit. When the other frogs saw how
deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as
good as dead. The two frogs ignored the comments and tried
to jump up out of the pit with all their might. The other
frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as
dead. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other
frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died.

The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once
again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and
just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out.
When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear
us?” The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought
they were encouraging him the entire time.

Take care with how you talk to anyone who you come into
contact with. It is incredible the power a positive word can
have on someone, but in the same breath also amazing the
damage you can do with a negative word. Be one of those
special people who take the time to encourage. It will never
be forgotten.

The Cracked Pot
By: Author Unknown

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on the
end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the
pots was perfectly made and never leaked. The other pot had
a crack in it and by the time the water bearer reached his
master’s house it had leaked much of it’s water and was only
half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer
delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his
master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its
accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its
own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to
accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure,
it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am
ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.”

“Why?” asked the bearer. “What are you ashamed of?”

“I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only
half my load because this crack in my side causes water to
leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of
my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get
full value from your efforts,” the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in
his compassion he said, “As we return to the master’s house,
I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.”

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took
notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the
side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end
of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out
half its load, and so again the pot apologized to the bearer
for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were
flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other
pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your
flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on
your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from
the stream, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been
able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s
table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not
have this beauty to grace his house.”

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We’re all cracked pots.
Don’t be afraid of your flaws. Acknowledge them, and you too
can be the cause of beauty. Know that in our weakness we
find our strength.

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.

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!

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”

Late for Dinner
By: Author Unknown

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing
down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How
could a guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled
over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the
potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak
his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his
car, the big pad in hand.

Bob? Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench
coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching
a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little
eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he
was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every
Sunday, a man he’d never seen in uniform. “Hi, Bob. Fancy
meeting you like this.”

“Hello, Jack.” No smile.

“Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and
kids.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Bob seemed uncertain. Good.

“I’ve seen some long days at the office lately. I’m afraid I
bent the rules a bit -just this once.” Jack toed at a pebble
on the pavement. “Diane said something about roast beef and
potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean. I also know that you have a
reputation in our precinct.”

Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to
change tactics.

“What’d you clock me at?”

“Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?”

“Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw
you. I was barely nudging 65.” The lie seemed to come easier
with every ticket.

“Please, Jack, in the car.”

Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door.
Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no
rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob
scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn’t he asked for a
driver’s license?

Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before
Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked
his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand.
Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough
room for Bob to pass him the slip.

“Thanks.” Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his
voice.

Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched
his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper.
How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was
this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket. Jack began
to read:

“Dear Jack,

Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed
by a car. You guessed it — a speeding driver. A fine and
three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his
daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I’m going
to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her
again. A thousand times I’ve tried to forgive that man. A
thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to
do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack,
my son is all I have left.

- Bob”

Jack turned around in time to see Bob’s car pull away and
head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A
full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly
home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife
and kids when he arrived.

Life is precious. Handle with care.