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.

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>>>>>

I git this in an email ..you Know the Ones that say: Have send this to

5, 10 people etc. Well I just don’t ..But for some reason I read this one and Thought HMMMM

This One Is worthwhile Sharing with everyone!! Why Because It isn’t really that uncommon or is it??

My mom only had one eye. I hated her… She was such an embarrassment. .
She cooked for students & teachers to support the family.

My mom only had one eye. I hated her… She was such an embarrassment. .
She cooked for students & teachers to support the family.

There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to Say hello to me.

I was so embarrassed.

How could she do this to me?
I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out.
The next day at school one of my classmates said, “EEEE, your mom only
Has one eye!”

I wanted to bury myself.
I also wanted my mom to just disappear..
I confronted her that day and said, ” If you’re only goanna make me a
Laughing stock, why don’t you just die?”

My mom did not respond….
I didn’t even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because
I was full of anger.
I was oblivious to her feelings.

I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her.
So I studied real hard, got a chance to go abroad to study.
Then, I got married.
I bought a house of my own.
I had kids of my own.
I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts, Then one day, my Mother came to visit me.
She hadn’t seen me in years and she didn’t even meet her
Grandchildren.

When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at Her for coming over uninvited.
I screamed at her, “How dare you come to my house and scare my
Children!”
GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!”

And to this, my mother quietly answered, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I may have Gotten the wrong address,”
And she disappeared out of sight.
One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house.

So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip.
After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity.
My neighbors said that she died.
I did not shed a single tear.
They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.

“My dearest son,
I think of you all the time. I’m sorry that I came to your house and Scared your children.
I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion.
But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you.
I’m sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were Growing up.
You see……..when you were very little, you got into an accident, and Lost your eye.
As a mother, I couldn’t stand watching you
Having to grow up with one eye.
So I gave you mine.
I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my Place, with that eye.

With all my love to you,
Your mother.

1000 Marbles
By: Author Unknown

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

I’m a Ham radio operator and spend some time working with radios and electronics. So when I heard this story it really made me think! I hope that you will find some application in your own life as well…

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the basement shack with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it.

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whoever he was talking with something about “a thousand marbles.”

I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say.
“Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job.
I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter’s dance recital.”

He continued, “Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities.”
And that’s when he began to explain his theory of “a thousand marbles.”

“You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic.
The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years.”

“Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime. Now stick with me Tom, I’m getting to the important part.”

“It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail,” he went on, “and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy.”

“So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to roundup 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away.”

“I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.”

“Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time.”

“It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. 75 year Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!”

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss.

“C’mon honey, I’m taking you and the kids to breakfast.”

“What brought this on?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, nothing special, it’s just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we’re out? I need to buy some marbles.”

HAVE A GREAT WEEK… and may ALL of your Saturdays be special!
Axel “The Wizard Of Wealth” -”Smart People Will Always Trade Money for Time”

Special Marketing Tools

By Axel Henriksen “The Wizard Of Wealth”

Today it is getting extremely hard to grab and hold your prospects attention for any length of time due to information overload, masses of offers via every form of media you can name here’s and example of what I mean:

We’ve been talking about the number one most important asset of any business, which are its customers. In order to properly embrace this I must first tell you about a thing called “Marketing Noise”, which is a catch-all term representative of the tremendous amount of marketing going on all around us.

It’s everything from billboards, car and truck signs, bus bench signs, displays and signage in stores, flyers stuffed in bags, flyers under windshield wipers, direct mail, brochures packed in with purchases, brochures in with credit card and utility bill statements, radio commercials, TV commercials reduced from sixty to thirty seconds, telemarketing, personal selling, cable TV shows that are really commercials, ads in magazines and newspapers.

It’s even the mountain of emails that you are undoubtedly receiving everyday in your inbox if you are reading my Success Marketing Strategies.

It’s a fact that the average adult consumer is presented with more opportunities to spend money today in one 4-hour period than he was in thirty 24-hour periods just a decade ago. There is a mammoth amount of marketing noise bombarding the consumer every day that is vying for his discretionary income and his credit.

In business-to-business marketing the same basic situation exists. Although there is less cold call selling going on today than at any time I can recall there is much more business-to-business marketing taking place.

The card deck is just one example of media has been invented in the last decade to go after business-to-business. The number of business magazines, newspapers and trade journals carrying advertising to the executive and business owner has more than tripled in the past five years.

Trade show attendants are at an all time high. DVDs, computer CDs and other electronic media are being used as brochures as well as in place of sales calls today. There is a mammoth amount of marketing noise bombarding the executive, manager and business owner.

Then within all that marketing noise there is all the direct competition in your particular field. Competitors who grow more sophisticated and aggressive by the minute, not only competing for new customers but also attempting to take away your present customers. What are you doing about it?

In your next Success Marketing Strategy, I will reveal what I believe to be your best strategy to eliminate this business erosion that is taking place.

So Now We Have all Turned To Social Network For The Answer-YES

well thats fine and it is indeed very exciting and we are connecting like crazy all over the place on sites such as:

LinkedIn

ecademy

Ryze

Ojeeze

Spock

Facebook

Myspace

Ezifinda

Hi5

Bebo

BNI

Hoverspot

ikarma

konnects

oldfriends

Netlog

Whoswho

just to name a few of them……..my questions are:

“Are we ..that’s me and You getting the best use out of these tools?”

“How many of these sites can we really Use?”

‘Which are best for what-do you Know?”

“The Purpose for Using These Sites?”

and My Favourite Question:

“How Can We Monatize the Use of These Sites?” Well that is why most of us are using them..RIGHT!

Okay Now I will give you a few Examples of What is and Has Been Working Very Well For ..US ..Now That Means My Clients and us.

1. Build a relationship FIRST before you go all gang busters and start blowing your “Special Just for you Buddy Offers all all over Me” Does that ring any Bells?

2. Finout if what you are About to offer me will be of any interest at all to ME. Hey just ask me a few questions before you go blurting out your stuff at me.

3. Did YOU even Bother to check out what I do? OOPs Sorry about that didn’t know you was in the same business as me I know for sure that most people that pitch me via any media have done little if any research into me and what I want or do and yet the pitch me anyway

Types of Business Cards

Tactile cards: Some cards are distinguished not so much by how they look as by how they feel. They may use nonstandard materials, such as metal or wood, or have unusual shapes, edges, folds or embossing. The cards below have GOLD embossing on them which puts them into a very highclass high cost attention getting arena. Tactile cards tend to be considerably more expensive than regular cards because they use nonstandard production processes such as die cuts And we consider them Worth the additional costs.

Multipurpose cards: A card can do more than promote your name and business–it can also serve as a discount coupon, an appointment reminder or some other function. Many of our client think that having a calender on the back will make people want to keep them and put them in their wallets or purses {We on the other hand prefer to put another marketing message on the back such as a special offer that is only available by using this card} It may also provide valuable information that the average person may need. For example, a hotel may include a map on the back of its card for any guests who are walking around the vicinity. A card of any type can be made multipurpose by adding these types of features.

Outside-the-box cards: A wildly original, fanciful or extravagant presentation can draw extra attention. Creativity knows no bounds–except the amount of money you wish to spend. I’ve seen examples of these types of cards that were made of chocolate, Candy bars, Mints, bottle openers, key rings or that folded out into a miniature box to keep small items in. One of the most notable was a dentist’s card that included a small compartment for dental floss to be pulled out. We tend not to use or promote these because unless you are an art lover or collector of unusual business cards or have a need for that item..if they don’t fit into the card holder easily ..out they go!!! Mind you the card makers and the advertising GURUs often love these because they are indeed creative..but as we say if it don’t sell it ain’t worth XX And that’s because I am no gambler so I like what I call my “Double Headed BizCard” which ever way the prospect turns it they gets a message..could even be the same message on both sides now there’s that might work

Now as much as I would like to keep on writing here and giving you the rest of those very effect marketing tools ..I’ve just run out of time today and will have to save that for another day ..

You could always checkout www.onlineofflineinformationmarketing.com and pick yourself up the full package there so as you can get to it right now make those Profits NOW!

The Pickle Jar
by: Author Unknown

The pickle jar, as far back as I can remember, sat beside
the dresser in my parents’ bedroom. When he got ready for
bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the
jar. As they were dropped into the jar, they landed with a
merry jingle when the jar was almost empty.

Then, the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar
filled. I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and
admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a
pirate’s treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom
window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the
kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the
bank.

Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production.
Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were
placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck. Each
and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at
me hopefully. “Those coins are going to keep you out of the
textile mill, son. You’re going to do better than me. This
old mill town’s not going to hold you back.” Also, each and
every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the
counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin
proudly and say, “These are for my son’s college fund. He’ll
never work at the mill all his life like me.”

We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an
ice cream cone. I always got chocolate; Dad always got
vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad
his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his
palm. “When we get home, we’ll start filling the jar again.”
He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As
they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned
at each other. “You’ll get to college on pennies, nickels,
dimes and quarters,” he said. “But you’ll get there. I’ll
see to that.”

The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in
another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the
phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was
gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed. A lump
rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser
where the jar had always stood. My Dad was a man of few
words, and never lectured me on the values of determination,
perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all
these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of
words could have done.

When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant
part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In
my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my
Dad had loved me. No matter how rough things got a home, Dad
continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the
summer when Dad got laid off from the mill, and Mama had to
serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime
was taken from the jar. To the contrary, as Dad looked
across the table at me pouring catsup over my beans to make
them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to
make a way out for me. “When you finish college, Son,” he
told me, his eyes glistening, “you’ll never have to eat
beans again, unless you want to.”

The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we
spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad
sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling
their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and
Susan took her from Dad’s arms. “She probably needs to be
changed,” she said, carrying the baby into my parents’
bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living
room, there was a strange mist in her eyes. She handed
Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me
into the room. “Look,” she said softly, her eyes directing
me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my
amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the
old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I
walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and
pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions
choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. Then I looked
up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly
into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling
the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak, but
we knew nothing had to be said.

Becoming As Little Children
by: Author Unknown

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, “Hi there.” He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.

His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,” the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, “What do we do?” Erik continued to laugh and answer, “Hi, hi there.” Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man.
The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby.

Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, “Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo.” Nobody thought the old man was cute.
He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed.
We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door.
“Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,” I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s “pick-me-up” position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man’s. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder.

The man’s eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby’s bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, “You take care of this baby.” Somehow I managed, “I will,” from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, “God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me my Christmas gift. You see, m’am, I never saw my child grow up. My wife and son were taken from me in an automobile accident when they were both too young. I was never able to get over it.”