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Showing posts with label Love Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love Stories. Show all posts
Friday, February 13, 2009
How To Install Love ?
A Romantic Cruise
One particular thought is always coming to my mind.
I heard it is very romantic to go to deck and sit on the chair with long space in front for keeping the legs.
I would like to go to the deck with my partner with two glasses and a bottle of red wine. we will stretch ourselves on the chairs, with our legs stretched on the long space. we would feel the cold breeze from the sea passing through our bodies. We can enjoy the blue sky on the clouds. we will have a glass of wine and we would engage in romantic talk.
I will take and hold her hand and raise her hand to my face and slowly caress her palm and start biting romantically the fingers. Then she will take my hand and place it on her waist. I will slowly caress her waist. we both can feel the electricity passing through our bodies.
We will get up and go near the rails to watch the sea. My partner will put her lovely head on my shoulder. My hand will go behind her back and start stroking her back. We will share one more glasses of wine. slowly she will squeeze her body towards me. I could feel the warmth of her. I will raise her chin with my hand and we both will look deep into each others eyes. Now she will raise her head so that i can kiss her on her forehead, later on her closed eyes, on her cheeks and behind the ears. She willl run her hand through my hair behind the head. Slowly, i will put my lips on her warm lips and we both will start kissing. She will come forward and hug me. My hands will stroke her back, She will hold me tightly. We both could feel the warmth of each other's bodies. We will start breathing faster. Soon, the pleasure will become unbearable and we will go back to our room and lock the door
I heard it is very romantic to go to deck and sit on the chair with long space in front for keeping the legs.
I would like to go to the deck with my partner with two glasses and a bottle of red wine. we will stretch ourselves on the chairs, with our legs stretched on the long space. we would feel the cold breeze from the sea passing through our bodies. We can enjoy the blue sky on the clouds. we will have a glass of wine and we would engage in romantic talk.
I will take and hold her hand and raise her hand to my face and slowly caress her palm and start biting romantically the fingers. Then she will take my hand and place it on her waist. I will slowly caress her waist. we both can feel the electricity passing through our bodies.
We will get up and go near the rails to watch the sea. My partner will put her lovely head on my shoulder. My hand will go behind her back and start stroking her back. We will share one more glasses of wine. slowly she will squeeze her body towards me. I could feel the warmth of her. I will raise her chin with my hand and we both will look deep into each others eyes. Now she will raise her head so that i can kiss her on her forehead, later on her closed eyes, on her cheeks and behind the ears. She willl run her hand through my hair behind the head. Slowly, i will put my lips on her warm lips and we both will start kissing. She will come forward and hug me. My hands will stroke her back, She will hold me tightly. We both could feel the warmth of each other's bodies. We will start breathing faster. Soon, the pleasure will become unbearable and we will go back to our room and lock the door
I Will Always Remember You
I Will Always Remember
I will always remember that day when we first met and when you were taken away from me. That dread full day. But today is that day that I must say what’s been hiding in me. I will tell my story to you, to your grave stone, to your soul that still lives on, to that look-a-like cloud that I saw that day.
It was that day, in January, when the principle told us that we had to sit with our homerooms. That was when I noticed you. It was like love at first sight, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t tell anyone until I knew your name. I asked tons of my friends, till I came to Cecily, she said that your name was Mike. Mike. I said your name over and over.
Then that day a few days later your were waiting to go into science, in front of my locker talking to Jay. I said” Could you please move.” And you did and it was my first words that I said to you. The next day, I think it was in second period, you were standing with Luke, Ethan, and Jay. I remember poor Ethan getting punched. I said “Hey guys can I get to my locker?”
Ryan said “Uh no.”
So all I did was move you guys and got to my locker. I opened it and you looked in and saw my locker and which was such a mess. But you didn’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I still can’t, I guess it was your.... I have to stop thinking about this, I’m going to get tears on my paper.
Then the second to last day, you were sitting in back of Caitlin, I remember I had I love M. on my hand and, well you saw it, and me acting like I wanted to kill Billy. I was surprised you weren’t discussed. Seriously I was.
In 8th grade I never saw you. You were in the smart people team, and well you know I wasn’t that, well, smart only in the summer, and everybody knew that. I only saw you at lunch. I couldn’t wait till then. I thought about you 24/7, it was getting to much.
In 9th I got to really know you, because you were in all of my classes, and we hung out, and were going out.
I remember the night out to the movies, we snuck in and nobody found out. It was the best night ever. But I think the best time was just hanging out at the park on Becca’s birthday, you, me, and well everyone else but that was a special night, we really had fun.
That night we played like every game in the world to about 1:00. Your parents didn’t care they knew me very well. Then we watched The Others and Thirteen Ghosts. I was so scared but you held me, and I felt so much better. I felt safe, the first time I felt safe with a guy. I knew we would be together for a long time.
In the 10th grade, we were still going strong together, nobody could break us apart. Even if we had a few fights, but every good relationship has a little down side. I was learning how to drive (uh the hardest thing in my life.) I really didn’t get to see you, I was in Las Vegas for most of the summer, that was the hardest summer ever.
In the 11th it was hard, we were preparing for our last year of high school and then collage, we never thought we would get out of it alive. But we went through it perfectly, and guess what no detention, well maybe for our friends but that didn’t matter. We spent that summer together, in New Jersey, which was so much fun, even if it was with our families.
In the 12th we celebrating, it was fun, our last year, and we were all right, still strong with our heart and mind and for our time together, our parents thought that night that we were going to get married with out them knowing, but we wouldn’t go and do that. They gave us to much support, and plus I knew what I wanted, and I didn’t want to go that. You were ok with that. Our friends said that this was something special.
When we both were 21, we started going to clubs. We didn’t go alone just in case, well you know. Our friends always came and things like that.
But it was that night I will remember. That cold, snowy night. Tony was like, gggggrrrrrr.... because of what he had to drink. He said get in to me and you. I didn’t go because Mandee and I were waiting for Becca. I told you to wait to, but you said that you would be fine.
When Becca came, we followed you two. We were wondering were Tony was taking us, I told him to go to my house but instead was going to his. He swerved and hit a another car and we got out and well, you weren’t OK.
I called the ambulance, it took them 20 min. I took of my jacket and put it on you, rubbing your hand and told you it would be all right. When we got into your room, an hour later, the doctor said that it was to late that you had gone. I cried and cried. It had also, been to late for Tony too.
Mandee, dove Becca and I home, was crying my heart out, I couldn’t stop. I kept saying “ I told you, I told you. I told you not to go.”
I was thinking to myself that night that I should have gone with you, so I could be with you. I’m now writing in “the crying room.” And I am crying. Trying to calm myself down but it’s not going to work.
When I got out of Collage I started to work with this program, it teaches about the effects of people driving drunk, and I used you as an example. I don't cry as much anymore. But when I tell my story a lot of people do.
And I still miss you. I come by once in a while, not everyday again. I still sit and talk about the good and bad times.
I will always remember, your face, your smile. I will always remember You
I will always remember that day when we first met and when you were taken away from me. That dread full day. But today is that day that I must say what’s been hiding in me. I will tell my story to you, to your grave stone, to your soul that still lives on, to that look-a-like cloud that I saw that day.
It was that day, in January, when the principle told us that we had to sit with our homerooms. That was when I noticed you. It was like love at first sight, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t tell anyone until I knew your name. I asked tons of my friends, till I came to Cecily, she said that your name was Mike. Mike. I said your name over and over.
Then that day a few days later your were waiting to go into science, in front of my locker talking to Jay. I said” Could you please move.” And you did and it was my first words that I said to you. The next day, I think it was in second period, you were standing with Luke, Ethan, and Jay. I remember poor Ethan getting punched. I said “Hey guys can I get to my locker?”
Ryan said “Uh no.”
So all I did was move you guys and got to my locker. I opened it and you looked in and saw my locker and which was such a mess. But you didn’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I still can’t, I guess it was your.... I have to stop thinking about this, I’m going to get tears on my paper.
Then the second to last day, you were sitting in back of Caitlin, I remember I had I love M. on my hand and, well you saw it, and me acting like I wanted to kill Billy. I was surprised you weren’t discussed. Seriously I was.
In 8th grade I never saw you. You were in the smart people team, and well you know I wasn’t that, well, smart only in the summer, and everybody knew that. I only saw you at lunch. I couldn’t wait till then. I thought about you 24/7, it was getting to much.
In 9th I got to really know you, because you were in all of my classes, and we hung out, and were going out.
I remember the night out to the movies, we snuck in and nobody found out. It was the best night ever. But I think the best time was just hanging out at the park on Becca’s birthday, you, me, and well everyone else but that was a special night, we really had fun.
That night we played like every game in the world to about 1:00. Your parents didn’t care they knew me very well. Then we watched The Others and Thirteen Ghosts. I was so scared but you held me, and I felt so much better. I felt safe, the first time I felt safe with a guy. I knew we would be together for a long time.
In the 10th grade, we were still going strong together, nobody could break us apart. Even if we had a few fights, but every good relationship has a little down side. I was learning how to drive (uh the hardest thing in my life.) I really didn’t get to see you, I was in Las Vegas for most of the summer, that was the hardest summer ever.
In the 11th it was hard, we were preparing for our last year of high school and then collage, we never thought we would get out of it alive. But we went through it perfectly, and guess what no detention, well maybe for our friends but that didn’t matter. We spent that summer together, in New Jersey, which was so much fun, even if it was with our families.
In the 12th we celebrating, it was fun, our last year, and we were all right, still strong with our heart and mind and for our time together, our parents thought that night that we were going to get married with out them knowing, but we wouldn’t go and do that. They gave us to much support, and plus I knew what I wanted, and I didn’t want to go that. You were ok with that. Our friends said that this was something special.
When we both were 21, we started going to clubs. We didn’t go alone just in case, well you know. Our friends always came and things like that.
But it was that night I will remember. That cold, snowy night. Tony was like, gggggrrrrrr.... because of what he had to drink. He said get in to me and you. I didn’t go because Mandee and I were waiting for Becca. I told you to wait to, but you said that you would be fine.
When Becca came, we followed you two. We were wondering were Tony was taking us, I told him to go to my house but instead was going to his. He swerved and hit a another car and we got out and well, you weren’t OK.
I called the ambulance, it took them 20 min. I took of my jacket and put it on you, rubbing your hand and told you it would be all right. When we got into your room, an hour later, the doctor said that it was to late that you had gone. I cried and cried. It had also, been to late for Tony too.
Mandee, dove Becca and I home, was crying my heart out, I couldn’t stop. I kept saying “ I told you, I told you. I told you not to go.”
I was thinking to myself that night that I should have gone with you, so I could be with you. I’m now writing in “the crying room.” And I am crying. Trying to calm myself down but it’s not going to work.
When I got out of Collage I started to work with this program, it teaches about the effects of people driving drunk, and I used you as an example. I don't cry as much anymore. But when I tell my story a lot of people do.
And I still miss you. I come by once in a while, not everyday again. I still sit and talk about the good and bad times.
I will always remember, your face, your smile. I will always remember You
Dreams Do Come True
"Close your eyes" Maryian said.. | |
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A Different Kind Of Love Story
Clothing was strewn about her bedroom in disarray. The normally organized jewelry box was a tangle of earrings and necklaces, the wash-cloth which had taken her make-up off was tossed on the sink, smeared with red streaks of blush that had since been reapplied. Her foot slipped back and forth between the gas and the brake. It wouldn't do to be pulled over. She'd heard the cops in this area were anal for the law. Fifty-five… what was that? Sixty-five was acceptable, when she was in a bad mood. Her friends teased her about having a lead foot. Her car had battle-scars in it, which she'd made fun of in the many letters she'd written. Some were to friends, some were to family, but Drew was neither. She'd met him through a pen-pal service fluke, two Americans whose paths accidentally crossed.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she thought to herself as she pulled into the parking lot. It wasn't raining, but the day was slightly overcast and smelled of springtime and newness. "This is something that I would yell at other people for doing. There's still time to get out of this." She stepped out of the car and headed toward the airport. Then she heard Michael's voice, from a long time ago. His lengthy courtship culminated with him down on one knee with an open ring box and sweet words of love. Finally the day came, and they were in the church ready to tell the world and God that they were husband and wife. It was like something dreams were made of. She'd fled that day, though, said she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't stop those ill-formed syllables from coming out of her mouth. "I can't be your wife," she said simply, and that was the end of it. That had eventually broken them up, his patience had finally run out. He wanted more out of life, more than an affair. She deserved better than that and he knew it. "You can't stand on the side of life and stick your toe in… either wade in waist-deep or don't go in at all- it's really your choice."
That seemed like years ago. Now, the mechanical voice came over the loudspeaker of the crowded terminal announcing the arrival of Flight 218, nonstop from New Orleans. Laurie sat up at the revelation, waiting for a gate number. She tossed her empty Styrofoam cup in the trash and wiped her moist palms on the legs of her jeans. "Relax, Laurie," she told herself, "There's nothing to be nervous about." But she was more than nervous. She was terrified.
Earlier that morning, she'd spent hours washing and brushing her long hair, the color and sheen of which made it her most prominent feature. She wanted to look put together, but not overdone. Her black glossy mane was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and held in place with a fluffy white bow. She couldn't seem to unwind… her sleek body was coiled up like a spring. One could have bounced a quarter off her nerves.
Drew had been her friend and confidante, there for her laughter and tears. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't gotten so personal with him, but she was looking for a void to fill. It had been a long time since Michael. There was a bit of a tan line on her finger still, a light stripe from the sun tattooing her hand as he had left his own imprint on her heart. "Drew isn't Michael; he won't hurt me," she reminded herself. "I couldn't have prevented what happened. What if he doesn't like the way I look? I couldn't stand that. What if this changes things? If I'm too short? Too tall? Not his type?"
She tried to stroll nonchalantly but almost tripped over the strappy sandals she'd bought in an effort to look cute. "Shouldn't have worn these," she chided herself, the buckle cutting at her ankle. She didn't know how she was going to pick him out of a crowd. He'd told her to expect the unexpected. She wasn't sure what he meant.
Laurie was almost clutching the rail she was so nervous. She watched a Manson-type rocker with a non-biodegradable blond on his arm. Behind him was a heavyset lumberjack type, smelling faintly of whiskey and the mountains. She wondered what kind of business he had in New Orleans. He didn't seem the type to sit on a muggy porch drinking java as the city reluctantly came to wake. The flight attendant offered to wheel the next client off the plane, but he smiled pleasantly and declined. He was handsome, with a strong muscular jaw and twinkling eyes. It was too bad about the chair.
She walked over to the flight attendant and asked if she could point out Drew Jacobs to her. She nodded toward the man in the wheelchair and when she glanced back at him, he smiled. She wanted to run. He wasn't her Prince Charming. She didn't think the chair would fit on the back of a horse. "Umm… Drew?" Why hadn't he told her in all those letters?
"Hey baby, wanna wrestle?" he jested, his eyes laughing. He kissed her hand and told her he'd been looking forward to meeting her for the first time. And suddenly, she wasn't nervous about her looks anymore.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she thought to herself as she pulled into the parking lot. It wasn't raining, but the day was slightly overcast and smelled of springtime and newness. "This is something that I would yell at other people for doing. There's still time to get out of this." She stepped out of the car and headed toward the airport. Then she heard Michael's voice, from a long time ago. His lengthy courtship culminated with him down on one knee with an open ring box and sweet words of love. Finally the day came, and they were in the church ready to tell the world and God that they were husband and wife. It was like something dreams were made of. She'd fled that day, though, said she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't stop those ill-formed syllables from coming out of her mouth. "I can't be your wife," she said simply, and that was the end of it. That had eventually broken them up, his patience had finally run out. He wanted more out of life, more than an affair. She deserved better than that and he knew it. "You can't stand on the side of life and stick your toe in… either wade in waist-deep or don't go in at all- it's really your choice."
That seemed like years ago. Now, the mechanical voice came over the loudspeaker of the crowded terminal announcing the arrival of Flight 218, nonstop from New Orleans. Laurie sat up at the revelation, waiting for a gate number. She tossed her empty Styrofoam cup in the trash and wiped her moist palms on the legs of her jeans. "Relax, Laurie," she told herself, "There's nothing to be nervous about." But she was more than nervous. She was terrified.
Earlier that morning, she'd spent hours washing and brushing her long hair, the color and sheen of which made it her most prominent feature. She wanted to look put together, but not overdone. Her black glossy mane was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and held in place with a fluffy white bow. She couldn't seem to unwind… her sleek body was coiled up like a spring. One could have bounced a quarter off her nerves.
Drew had been her friend and confidante, there for her laughter and tears. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't gotten so personal with him, but she was looking for a void to fill. It had been a long time since Michael. There was a bit of a tan line on her finger still, a light stripe from the sun tattooing her hand as he had left his own imprint on her heart. "Drew isn't Michael; he won't hurt me," she reminded herself. "I couldn't have prevented what happened. What if he doesn't like the way I look? I couldn't stand that. What if this changes things? If I'm too short? Too tall? Not his type?"
She tried to stroll nonchalantly but almost tripped over the strappy sandals she'd bought in an effort to look cute. "Shouldn't have worn these," she chided herself, the buckle cutting at her ankle. She didn't know how she was going to pick him out of a crowd. He'd told her to expect the unexpected. She wasn't sure what he meant.
Laurie was almost clutching the rail she was so nervous. She watched a Manson-type rocker with a non-biodegradable blond on his arm. Behind him was a heavyset lumberjack type, smelling faintly of whiskey and the mountains. She wondered what kind of business he had in New Orleans. He didn't seem the type to sit on a muggy porch drinking java as the city reluctantly came to wake. The flight attendant offered to wheel the next client off the plane, but he smiled pleasantly and declined. He was handsome, with a strong muscular jaw and twinkling eyes. It was too bad about the chair.
She walked over to the flight attendant and asked if she could point out Drew Jacobs to her. She nodded toward the man in the wheelchair and when she glanced back at him, he smiled. She wanted to run. He wasn't her Prince Charming. She didn't think the chair would fit on the back of a horse. "Umm… Drew?" Why hadn't he told her in all those letters?
"Hey baby, wanna wrestle?" he jested, his eyes laughing. He kissed her hand and told her he'd been looking forward to meeting her for the first time. And suddenly, she wasn't nervous about her looks anymore.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Love At First Sight
I also met my love on the net, at first it was not that easy,
and i nearly gave up after few email communication, i decided to drop down my phone number and was very desperate hoping it will not work out.
One fine day i had a phone call, and he was at the other end wanting to speak to me, from that moment we exchange the feelings and realized we really love each other.
we have been communicating through phone, emails , skype and always spend more hours talking to each other,
now we have come to a conclusion that we love each other and that we are meant for each other,
so we want to break the distance, that happens so fast. we are now looking on how to be together to enjoys the fantastic love between us. he lives in Belgium and i in Cameroon, i need help to handle all this especially how to live together because i can't leave without him.
i love him so much and i don\'t bear for more months staying alone here with my sweet love.
thanks to the net that brought my love one to me.
and i nearly gave up after few email communication, i decided to drop down my phone number and was very desperate hoping it will not work out.
One fine day i had a phone call, and he was at the other end wanting to speak to me, from that moment we exchange the feelings and realized we really love each other.
we have been communicating through phone, emails , skype and always spend more hours talking to each other,
now we have come to a conclusion that we love each other and that we are meant for each other,
so we want to break the distance, that happens so fast. we are now looking on how to be together to enjoys the fantastic love between us. he lives in Belgium and i in Cameroon, i need help to handle all this especially how to live together because i can't leave without him.
i love him so much and i don\'t bear for more months staying alone here with my sweet love.
thanks to the net that brought my love one to me.
Time Of Love
The man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.
Daddy, may I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.
"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?"
"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.
"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.
"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."
"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed.
Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"
The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games." The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money.
After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00, and he really didn't ask for money very often.
The man went to the Door of the little boy's room and opened the door. "Are you asleep son?" he asked.
"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.
"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man. "It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."
The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills. The man, since the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.
"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.
"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.
"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"
Daddy, may I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.
"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?"
"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.
"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.
"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."
"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed.
Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"
The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games." The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money.
After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00, and he really didn't ask for money very often.
The man went to the Door of the little boy's room and opened the door. "Are you asleep son?" he asked.
"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.
"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man. "It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."
The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills. The man, since the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.
"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.
"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied.
"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"
An Unforgettable First Kiss
My very first kiss... yes, I remember it well. She had been visiting my family this Sunday afternoon into the early evening. It was in the middle of winter and being in a northern state, it was very cold. Time finally came for her to return to her family a couple of blocks away from where I lived.
I helped her on with her coat and she and I stepped through the door onto an uncovered porch. The window in the door was all steamed up from the heat within so no one could see us outside except as a blur. When we stepped outside, we found that is was pouring down snow in very large flakes and starting to gather on the ground.
As we were standing there watching the snow, we turned toward each other, no words had been spoken, as if the snow had taken away our ability to talk. We looked into each other's eyes and still without saying a word, we stepped toward each other, we embraced and then our lips met; soft, warm, moist a totally sensual moment, but being so young, we had only the vaguest idea what sensual was. Our lips stayed together a long time, the snow falling in these huge drops around us and on us.
Finally we parted and we both knew that THE THING had finally happened for both of us. Our First Kiss. Unforgettable.
I helped her on with her coat and she and I stepped through the door onto an uncovered porch. The window in the door was all steamed up from the heat within so no one could see us outside except as a blur. When we stepped outside, we found that is was pouring down snow in very large flakes and starting to gather on the ground.
As we were standing there watching the snow, we turned toward each other, no words had been spoken, as if the snow had taken away our ability to talk. We looked into each other's eyes and still without saying a word, we stepped toward each other, we embraced and then our lips met; soft, warm, moist a totally sensual moment, but being so young, we had only the vaguest idea what sensual was. Our lips stayed together a long time, the snow falling in these huge drops around us and on us.
Finally we parted and we both knew that THE THING had finally happened for both of us. Our First Kiss. Unforgettable.
Love Is Blind
There was a blind girl who hated herself just
because she's blind.
She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend.
He's always there for her.
She said that if she could only see the world, she
would marry her boyfriend.
One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her and
then she can see everything, including her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend asked her, "now that you can see the
world, will you marry me?"
The girl was shocked when she saw that her
boyfriend is blind too, and refused to marry him.
Her boyfriend walked away in tears, and later wrote
a letter to her saying.
"Just take care of my eyes dear."
This is how human brain changes when the status
changed.
Only few remember what life was before, and who's
always been there even in the most painful situations.
Life Is A Gift
Today before you think of saying an unkind word -
Think of someone who can't speak.
Before you complain about the taste of your food -
Think of someone who has nothing to eat.
Before you complain about your husband or wife -
Think of someone who's crying out to God
for a companion.
Today before you complain about life - Think of
someone who went too early to heaven.
Before you complain about your children - Think of
someone who desires children but they're barren.
Before you argue about your dirty house, someone
didn't clean or sweep -
Think of the people who are living in the streets.
Before whining about the distance you drive - Think
of someone who walks the same distance with their feet.
And when you are tired and complain about your job -
Think of the unemployed, the disabled and those who wished
they had your job.
But before
you think of pointing the finger or
condemning another -
Remember that not one of us are without sin and we
all answer to one maker.
And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down -
Put a smile on your face and thank God you're alive
and still around.
Life is a gift, Live it, Enjoy it, Celebrate it and fulfill
it.
because she's blind.
She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend.
He's always there for her.
She said that if she could only see the world, she
would marry her boyfriend.
One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her and
then she can see everything, including her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend asked her, "now that you can see the
world, will you marry me?"
The girl was shocked when she saw that her
boyfriend is blind too, and refused to marry him.
Her boyfriend walked away in tears, and later wrote
a letter to her saying.
"Just take care of my eyes dear."
This is how human brain changes when the status
changed.
Only few remember what life was before, and who's
always been there even in the most painful situations.
Life Is A Gift
Today before you think of saying an unkind word -
Think of someone who can't speak.
Before you complain about the taste of your food -
Think of someone who has nothing to eat.
Before you complain about your husband or wife -
Think of someone who's crying out to God
for a companion.
Today before you complain about life - Think of
someone who went too early to heaven.
Before you complain about your children - Think of
someone who desires children but they're barren.
Before you argue about your dirty house, someone
didn't clean or sweep -
Think of the people who are living in the streets.
Before whining about the distance you drive - Think
of someone who walks the same distance with their feet.
And when you are tired and complain about your job -
Think of the unemployed, the disabled and those who wished
they had your job.
But before
you think of pointing the finger or
condemning another -
Remember that not one of us are without sin and we
all answer to one maker.
And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down -
Put a smile on your face and thank God you're alive
and still around.
Life is a gift, Live it, Enjoy it, Celebrate it and fulfill
it.
The Blind Bus Passenger
The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. she paid the driver, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle, and found the seat he\'d told her was empty. then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap, and rested her cane against her leg.
it had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. due to a medical misdiagnosis, she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration, and self-pity. once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless and helpless burden on everyone around her.
"how could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger, but no matter how much she cried, protested, ranted, or prayed, she knew the painful truth that her sight was never going to return. a cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. and all she had to cling to was her husband mark.
mark was an air forces officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. when she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
mark's military background had trained him well to deal with such sensitive situations, and yet he knew this was the most difficult battle he would ever face.
finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? she used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. mark volunteered to drive her to and from work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city.
at first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. soon, however, mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working, it was hectic and costly.
Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again\' he admitted to himself, but just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe, she was still so fragile and so angry. 'how would she react?' he admitted to himself again.
just as mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "i'm blind!" she responded bitterly "how am i supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you are abandoning me".
mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. he promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. and that is exactly what happened.
for two solid weeks, mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. he taught her how to rely on her other senses specifically her hearing, how to determine where she was, and how to adapt to her new environment.
he helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. he made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. each morning they made the journey together, and mark would take a cab back to his office.
although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. he believed in her, he used to know before she'd lost her sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit.
finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his sincerity, his patience, and his love. she said good-bye, and for the first time they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. she was doing it and she was going to work all by herself.
on Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. as she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said "hey, I sure envy you" Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. after all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year?.
curiously, she asked him "why do you say that you envy me?" the driver responded "it must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are". Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, she asked him again "what do you mean?".
the driver answered, "you know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. he makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute, and walks away. you are one lucky lady".
tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. for although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt mark\'s presence. she was fortunate, so fortunate, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe, the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness. you don't love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her.
god watches over us in just the same way. we may not know his presence, and we may not be able to see his blessed face, but he is there nonetheless... he is there no doubt, we must be so thankful and grateful for him for he is always there for us.
be blessed in this thought: 'god loves you even when you are not looking'.
'give and it will be given to you'
it had been a year since Susan, thirty-four, became blind. due to a medical misdiagnosis, she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration, and self-pity. once a fiercely independent woman, Susan now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless and helpless burden on everyone around her.
"how could this have happened to me?" she would plead, her heart knotted with anger, but no matter how much she cried, protested, ranted, or prayed, she knew the painful truth that her sight was never going to return. a cloud of depression hung over Susan's once optimistic spirit. just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. and all she had to cling to was her husband mark.
mark was an air forces officer and he loved Susan with all of his heart. when she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
mark's military background had trained him well to deal with such sensitive situations, and yet he knew this was the most difficult battle he would ever face.
finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? she used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. mark volunteered to drive her to and from work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city.
at first, this comforted Susan and fulfilled mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. soon, however, mark realized that this arrangement wasn't working, it was hectic and costly.
Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again\' he admitted to himself, but just the thought of mentioning it to her made him cringe, she was still so fragile and so angry. 'how would she react?' he admitted to himself again.
just as mark predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again. "i'm blind!" she responded bitterly "how am i supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you are abandoning me".
mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. he promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. and that is exactly what happened.
for two solid weeks, mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. he taught her how to rely on her other senses specifically her hearing, how to determine where she was, and how to adapt to her new environment.
he helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. he made her laugh, even on those not-so-good days when she would trip exiting the bus, or drop her briefcase. each morning they made the journey together, and mark would take a cab back to his office.
although this routine was even more costly and exhausting than the previous one, mark knew it was only a matter of time before Susan would be able to ride the bus on her own. he believed in her, he used to know before she'd lost her sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit.
finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around mark, her temporary bus riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his sincerity, his patience, and his love. she said good-bye, and for the first time they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. she was doing it and she was going to work all by herself.
on Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. as she was paying for her fare to exit the bus, the driver said "hey, I sure envy you" Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. after all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year?.
curiously, she asked him "why do you say that you envy me?" the driver responded "it must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are". Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, she asked him again "what do you mean?".
the driver answered, "you know, every morning for the past week, a fine looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you when you get off the bus. he makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches you until you enter your office building. then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute, and walks away. you are one lucky lady".
tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. for although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt mark\'s presence. she was fortunate, so fortunate, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe, the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness. you don't love a woman because she is beautiful, but she is beautiful because you love her.
god watches over us in just the same way. we may not know his presence, and we may not be able to see his blessed face, but he is there nonetheless... he is there no doubt, we must be so thankful and grateful for him for he is always there for us.
be blessed in this thought: 'god loves you even when you are not looking'.
'give and it will be given to you'
The Twenty Dollar Bill
A well known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?"
Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you, but first, let me do this."
He proceeded to crumple the $20 dollar bill up. He then asked, "who still wants it?"
Still the hands were up in the air.
Well, he replied, "what if I do this?"
And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty.
"Now who still wants it?"
Still the hands went into the air.
"My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson," he said, "no matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20."
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.
We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened, or what will happen, you will never lose your value.
Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless ... and especially to those who love you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE.
"You are special - Don't EVER forget it."
Count your blessings, not your problems.
Never be afraid to try something new.
If you do not pass this on, you may never know the lives it touches, the hurting hearts it speaks to, or the hope that it can bring.
And remember..... Amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.
For my friends........even if you believe you are special to no one else..
Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you, but first, let me do this."
He proceeded to crumple the $20 dollar bill up. He then asked, "who still wants it?"
Still the hands were up in the air.
Well, he replied, "what if I do this?"
And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty.
"Now who still wants it?"
Still the hands went into the air.
"My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson," he said, "no matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20."
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.
We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened, or what will happen, you will never lose your value.
Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless ... and especially to those who love you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE.
"You are special - Don't EVER forget it."
Count your blessings, not your problems.
Never be afraid to try something new.
If you do not pass this on, you may never know the lives it touches, the hurting hearts it speaks to, or the hope that it can bring.
And remember..... Amateurs built the ark. Professionals built the Titanic.
For my friends........even if you believe you are special to no one else..
The Man And His Dog
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that his faithful dog had been dead for many years. He wondered where the road was leading them. After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. As he reached the wall, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch, and the street that led to the gate made from pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. | |
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Love Of A Father
When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a "walk-on." Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did. The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always puts his heart and soul to every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed. The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in the game.
It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big play off game, the coach met him with a telegram. The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, "My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?"
The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, "Take the rest of the week off, son. And don't even plan to come back to the game on Saturday. Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his football gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon.
"Coach, please let me play. I've just got to play today," said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game. But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in.
"All right," he said. "You can go in."
Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you've never heard!
Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that the young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone.
The coach came to him and said, "Kid, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"
He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?" , The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!"
It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big play off game, the coach met him with a telegram. The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, "My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?"
The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, "Take the rest of the week off, son. And don't even plan to come back to the game on Saturday. Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his football gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon.
"Coach, please let me play. I've just got to play today," said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game. But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in.
"All right," he said. "You can go in."
Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you've never heard!
Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that the young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone.
The coach came to him and said, "Kid, I can't believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?"
He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?" , The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, "Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!"
A Simple Gesture
Mark was walking home from school one day when he noticed the boy ahead of him had tripped and dropped all of the books he was carrying along with two sweaters, a baseball bat, a glove, and a small tape recorder. Mark knelt down and helped the boy pick up the scattered articles. Since they were going the same way, he helped to carry the burden.
As they walked Mark discovered the boy's name was Bill, that he loved video games, baseball, and history, that he was having a lot of trouble with his other subjects and that he had just broken up with his girlfriend. They arrived at Bill's home first and Mark was invited in for a Coke and to watch some t.v. The afternoon passed pleasantly with a few laughs and some shared small talk, then Mark went home.
They continued to see each other around school, had lunch together once or twice. They ended up at the same High school where they had brief contacts over the years. Finally the long awaited senior year came, and three weeks before graduation, Bill asked Mark if they could talk. Bill reminded him of the day years ago when they had first met.
"Do you ever wonder why I was carrying so many things from school that day?" asked Bill. "You see, I cleaned out my locker because I didn't want to leave a mess for anyone else. I had stored away some of my mother's pills and I was going home to commit suicide. But after we spent some time together I realized that if I had, I would have missed that time and so many others that might follow. So you see, Mark, when you picked up my books for me that day, you did a lot more. You saved my life."
As they walked Mark discovered the boy's name was Bill, that he loved video games, baseball, and history, that he was having a lot of trouble with his other subjects and that he had just broken up with his girlfriend. They arrived at Bill's home first and Mark was invited in for a Coke and to watch some t.v. The afternoon passed pleasantly with a few laughs and some shared small talk, then Mark went home.
They continued to see each other around school, had lunch together once or twice. They ended up at the same High school where they had brief contacts over the years. Finally the long awaited senior year came, and three weeks before graduation, Bill asked Mark if they could talk. Bill reminded him of the day years ago when they had first met.
"Do you ever wonder why I was carrying so many things from school that day?" asked Bill. "You see, I cleaned out my locker because I didn't want to leave a mess for anyone else. I had stored away some of my mother's pills and I was going home to commit suicide. But after we spent some time together I realized that if I had, I would have missed that time and so many others that might follow. So you see, Mark, when you picked up my books for me that day, you did a lot more. You saved my life."
The 3 Blue Ribbons
A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in High school by telling them the difference they each made using a process developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California. She called each student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how they made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."
About a month later, the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this Acknowledgment Ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, to see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.
One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning . He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons, and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."
Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The boss seemed very surprised . The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure". The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people"
That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius.
Imagine . He thinks I'm a creative genius . Then he put this blue ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference' on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you. My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school, and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"
The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."
About a month later, the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this Acknowledgment Ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, to see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.
One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning . He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons, and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."
Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The boss seemed very surprised . The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure". The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people"
That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius.
Imagine . He thinks I'm a creative genius . Then he put this blue ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference' on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you. My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school, and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"
The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I don't need to."
The Story Of Life
Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become. | |
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Ugly
Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.
To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.
His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one ugly cat!"
All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.
Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear- Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.
At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.
He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.
Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.
To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.
His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one ugly cat!"
All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.
Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear- Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.
At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.
He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.
Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.
A Love Story
One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise.
Ah the beauty of God's creation is beyond description.
As I watched, I praised the God for His beautiful work.
As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me.
He asked me, "Do you love me?"
I answered, "Of course, God! You are my Lord and Savior!"
Then He asked, "If you were physically handicapped, would you still love me?"
I was perplexed, "It would be tough Lord, but I would still love you."
Then the Lord said, " If you were blind, would you still love my creation?"
How could I love something without being able to see it? Then I thought of all the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and his creation.
So I answered," It's hard to think of it, but I would still love you."
The Lord then asked me, "If you were deaf, would you still listen to my Lord?"
How could I listen to anything being deaf? Then I understood. Listening to God's Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts.
I answered, "It would be tough, but I would still listen to Your Word."
The Lord then asked, "If you were mute, would you still praise My Name?"
How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me: God wants us to sing from our very heart and soul. It never matters what we sound like. And praising
God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give God praise with our words of thanks.
So I answered, "Though I could not physically sing, I would still praise Your Name."
And the Lord asked, "Do you really love Me?"
With courage and a strong conviction, I answered boldly. "Yes Lord! I love You because You are the One and true God!"
I thought I had answered well, but God asked, "THEN WHY DO YOU SIN?"
I answered, " Because I am only human. I am not perfect."
"THEN WHY IN TIMES OF PEACE DO YOU STRAY THE FURTHEST? WHY ONLY IN TIMES OF TROUBLE DO YOU PRAY THE EARNEST?"
No answers. Only tears.
The Lord continued to roll down my cheeks.
"Why are you ashamed of Me? Why are you not spreading the good news? Why in times of persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on? Why make excuses when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?"
I tried to answer, but there was no answer to give.
"You are blessed with life. I made you not to throw this gift away. I have blessed you with talents to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you, but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were closed. I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your prayers and I have answered them all."
"DO YOU TRULY LOVE ME?"
I could not answer. How could I? I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had no excuse. What could I say to this? When my heart had cried out and the tears had flowed. I said, "Please forgive me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child."
The Lord answered, "That is My Grace, My child."
I asked, "Then why do you continue to forgive me? Why do you love me so?"
The Lord answered, "Because you are My creation. You are My child. I will never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When you shout with joy, I will laugh with you. When you are down, I will encourage you. When you fall, I will raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you. I will be with you till the end of days, and I will love you forever."
Never had I cried so hard before. How could I have been so cold? How could I have hurt God as I had done? I asked God, " How much do you love me?"
The Lord stretched out His arms, and I saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ, my Savior. And for the first time, I truly prayed.
Ah the beauty of God's creation is beyond description.
As I watched, I praised the God for His beautiful work.
As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me.
He asked me, "Do you love me?"
I answered, "Of course, God! You are my Lord and Savior!"
Then He asked, "If you were physically handicapped, would you still love me?"
I was perplexed, "It would be tough Lord, but I would still love you."
Then the Lord said, " If you were blind, would you still love my creation?"
How could I love something without being able to see it? Then I thought of all the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and his creation.
So I answered," It's hard to think of it, but I would still love you."
The Lord then asked me, "If you were deaf, would you still listen to my Lord?"
How could I listen to anything being deaf? Then I understood. Listening to God's Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts.
I answered, "It would be tough, but I would still listen to Your Word."
The Lord then asked, "If you were mute, would you still praise My Name?"
How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me: God wants us to sing from our very heart and soul. It never matters what we sound like. And praising
God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give God praise with our words of thanks.
So I answered, "Though I could not physically sing, I would still praise Your Name."
And the Lord asked, "Do you really love Me?"
With courage and a strong conviction, I answered boldly. "Yes Lord! I love You because You are the One and true God!"
I thought I had answered well, but God asked, "THEN WHY DO YOU SIN?"
I answered, " Because I am only human. I am not perfect."
"THEN WHY IN TIMES OF PEACE DO YOU STRAY THE FURTHEST? WHY ONLY IN TIMES OF TROUBLE DO YOU PRAY THE EARNEST?"
No answers. Only tears.
The Lord continued to roll down my cheeks.
"Why are you ashamed of Me? Why are you not spreading the good news? Why in times of persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on? Why make excuses when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?"
I tried to answer, but there was no answer to give.
"You are blessed with life. I made you not to throw this gift away. I have blessed you with talents to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you, but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were closed. I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your prayers and I have answered them all."
"DO YOU TRULY LOVE ME?"
I could not answer. How could I? I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had no excuse. What could I say to this? When my heart had cried out and the tears had flowed. I said, "Please forgive me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child."
The Lord answered, "That is My Grace, My child."
I asked, "Then why do you continue to forgive me? Why do you love me so?"
The Lord answered, "Because you are My creation. You are My child. I will never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When you shout with joy, I will laugh with you. When you are down, I will encourage you. When you fall, I will raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you. I will be with you till the end of days, and I will love you forever."
Never had I cried so hard before. How could I have been so cold? How could I have hurt God as I had done? I asked God, " How much do you love me?"
The Lord stretched out His arms, and I saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ, my Savior. And for the first time, I truly prayed.
Rose
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty seven years old. Can I give you a hug?" I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.
"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked. She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel." "No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to betaking on this challenge at her age. "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me. After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet and I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said "I'm sorry. I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed she cleared her throat and began:
"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success.
"You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!"
"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one protective thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change." "Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.
At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty seven years old. Can I give you a hug?" I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.
"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked. She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel." "No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to betaking on this challenge at her age. "I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me. After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet and I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said "I'm sorry. I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know." As we laughed she cleared her throat and began:
"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success.
"You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!"
"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one protective thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change." "Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.
At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
The Best Kind Of Love
I have a friend who is falling in love. She honestly claims the sky is bluer. Mozart moves her to tears. She has lost 15 pounds and looks like a cover girl.
"I'm young again!" she shouts exuberantly.
As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one. My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home.
When my friend asked me "What will make this love last?" I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. Yet there's more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.
And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a "pot of gold " (my cooking kettle) and the "treasure" of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.
There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids - and even him-to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
There is sharing. Not only do we share household worries and parental burdens - we also share ideas. Scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. Though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. He touched my heart when he explained it was because he wanted to be able to exchange ideas about the book after I'd read it.
There is forgiveness. When I'm embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, "It's okay. It's only money."
There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it's been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year-old woman who'd had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman's husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis. Because there were still people who have been married 40 years. Because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
There is faith. Last Tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. On Wednesday I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. On Thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of Alzheimer's disease on her father-in-law's personality. On Friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. I hung up the phone and thought, This is too much heartache for one week. Through my tears, as I went out to run some errands, I noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. I heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. I caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor's house. The bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. That night, I told my husband about these events. We helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. It was enough to keep us going.
Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he'll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows that I sleep with a pillow over my head; I'll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.
I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer: it's just a familiar hue. We don't feel particularly young: we've experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.
I hope we've got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott's wedding band engraved with Robert Browning's line "Grow old along with me!" We're following those instructions.
"If anything is real, the heart will make it plain."
"I'm young again!" she shouts exuberantly.
As my friend raves on about her new love, I've taken a good look at my old one. My husband of almost 20 years, Scott, has gained 15 pounds. Once a marathon runner, he now runs only down hospital halls. His hairline is receding and his body shows the signs of long working hours and too many candy bars. Yet he can still give me a certain look across a restaurant table and I want to ask for the check and head home.
When my friend asked me "What will make this love last?" I ran through all the obvious reasons: commitment, shared interests, unselfishness, physical attraction, communication. Yet there's more. We still have fun. Spontaneous good times. Yesterday, after slipping the rubber band off the rolled up newspaper, Scott flipped it playfully at me: this led to an all-out war. Last Saturday at the grocery, we split the list and raced each other to see who could make it to the checkout first. Even washing dishes can be a blast. We enjoy simply being together.
And there are surprises. One time I came home to find a note on the front door that led me to another note, then another, until I reached the walk-in closet. I opened the door to find Scott holding a "pot of gold " (my cooking kettle) and the "treasure" of a gift package. Sometimes I leave him notes on the mirror and little presents under his pillow.
There is understanding. I understand why he must play basketball with the guys. And he understands why, once a year, I must get away from the house, the kids - and even him-to meet my sisters for a few days of nonstop talking and laughing.
There is sharing. Not only do we share household worries and parental burdens - we also share ideas. Scott came home from a convention last month and presented me with a thick historical novel. Though he prefers thrillers and science fiction, he had read the novel on the plane. He touched my heart when he explained it was because he wanted to be able to exchange ideas about the book after I'd read it.
There is forgiveness. When I'm embarrassingly loud and crazy at parties, Scott forgives me. When he confessed losing some of our savings in the stock market, I gave him a hug and said, "It's okay. It's only money."
There is sensitivity. Last week he walked through the door with that look that tells me it's been a tough day. After he spent some time with the kids, I asked him what happened. He told me about a 60-year-old woman who'd had a stroke. He wept as he recalled the woman's husband standing beside her bed, caressing her hand. How was he going to tell this husband of 40 years that his wife would probably never recover? I shed a few tears myself. Because of the medical crisis. Because there were still people who have been married 40 years. Because my husband is still moved and concerned after years of hospital rooms and dying patients.
There is faith. Last Tuesday a friend came over and confessed her fear that her husband is losing his courageous battle with cancer. On Wednesday I went to lunch with a friend who is struggling to reshape her life after divorce. On Thursday a neighbor called to talk about the frightening effects of Alzheimer's disease on her father-in-law's personality. On Friday a childhood friend called long-distance to tell me her father had died. I hung up the phone and thought, This is too much heartache for one week. Through my tears, as I went out to run some errands, I noticed the boisterous orange blossoms of the gladiolus outside my window. I heard the delighted laughter of my son and his friend as they played. I caught sight of a wedding party emerging from a neighbor's house. The bride, dressed in satin and lace, tossed her bouquet to her cheering friends. That night, I told my husband about these events. We helped each other acknowledge the cycles of life and that the joys counter the sorrows. It was enough to keep us going.
Finally, there is knowing. I know Scott will throw his laundry just shy of the hamper every night; he'll be late to most appointments and eat the last chocolate in the box. He knows that I sleep with a pillow over my head; I'll lock us out of the house at a regular basis, and I will also eat the last chocolate.
I guess our love lasts because it is comfortable. No, the sky is not bluer: it's just a familiar hue. We don't feel particularly young: we've experienced too much that has contributed to our growth and wisdom, taking its toll on our bodies, and created our memories.
I hope we've got what it takes to make our love last. As a bride, I had Scott's wedding band engraved with Robert Browning's line "Grow old along with me!" We're following those instructions.
"If anything is real, the heart will make it plain."
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