The Hospital Window
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the
fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the militaryservice, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the
world outside.
"The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm
in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance."
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque
scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making
sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Epilogue:
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.

Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.

"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."

The New Arival
A Somali arrives in Minneapolis as a new immigrant to the United States.

He stops the first person he sees walking down the street and says, "Thank you Mr. American for letting me in this country!"

But the passerby says "You are mistaken, I am Mexican".

The man goes on and encounters another passerby. "Thank you for having such a beautiful country here in America!"

The person says "I no American, I Vietnamese."

The new arrival walks further, and the next person he sees he stops, shakes his hand and says "Thank you for the wonderful America!"

That person puts up his hand and says "I am from the Middle East, I not American!"

He finally sees a nice lady and asks suspiciously, "Are you an American?"

She says, "No, I am from Russia!"

So he is puzzled, and asks her, "Where are all the Americans?" The Russian lady looks at her watch, shrugs, and says...

"Probably at work."

Mommy
Mommy

Once upon a time, there was a child ready to
be born. So one day he asked God:

They tell me you are sending me to earth
tomorrow but how am I going to live there being
so small and helpless?

Among the many angels, I chose one for
you. She will be waiting for you and will take
care of you.

But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything
else but sing and smile; that's enough for me to
be happy. And how am I going to be able to
understand when people talk to me, if I don't
know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and
sweet words you will ever hear, and with much
patience and care, your angel will teach you
how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to
talk to you?

Your angel will place your hands together and
will teach you how to pray.

I've heard that on earth there are bad men,
who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means
risking its own life.

But I will always be sad because I will not
see you anymore.

Your angel will always talk to you about me
and will teach you the way for you to come
back to me, even though I will always be
next to you.

At that moment there was much peace in
Heaven, but voices from earth could already be
heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:

Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell
me my angel's name.

Your angel's name is of no importance.
You will simply call her......

Mommy

The Little Girl In The Park
The Little Girl In The Park

There was this lil' girl one day sitting in the park. Everyone passed and
never stopped to see why she looked so sad. Dressed in a worn pink dressbare foot and dirty, the girl just sat and watched the people go by. She never tried to speak, she never said a word. Many people passed, but never did one person stop. Just so happens the next day I decided to go back to the park, in curiosity, to see if the lil' girl would still be there. Right in the very spot as she was yesterday she sat perched on high, with the saddest look in her eyes.

Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the lil' girl. For as we all know a park full of strange people is not a place for young children toplay alone. As I got closer I could see the back of the lil' girl's dress was obscenely shaped. I figured that was a reason the people just passed by and made no effort to help. Deformities are a low blow to our society and, "so help you" if you make a step toward assisting someone who is different.

As I got closer the lil' girl slightly lowered her eyes to avoid my intent stare. As I approached her, I could see the obscene shape of her back more clearly. Grotesquely shaped in a humped over form. I smiled to let her know it was ok, I was there to help, to talk. I sat down beside her and opened with a simple "Hello." The lil' girl acted shocked and stammered a "Hi" after a long stare into my eyes. I smiled and she shyly smiled back. We talked till darkness fell and the park was completely empty.

Everyone was gone and we at once were alone. I asked the girl why she was so sad. The lil' girl looked at me and with a sad face said "Because I'm different." I immediately said "that you are!" and smiled. The lil' girl acted even sadder, she said, "I know."

"Lil' girl," I said, "you remind me of an angel, sweet and innocent." She looked at me and smiled, slowly she stood to her feet, and said, really?"."Yes, ma'am, your like a lil' guardian angel sent to watch over all those people walking by." She shook her head yes and smiled, with that she spread her wings and said, "I am, I'm your guardian angel," with a twinkle in her eye.

I was speechless. Sure I was seeing things. She said, "For once you thought of someone other than yourself, my job here is done." Immediately I stood to my feet and said, "Wait, so why did no one stop to help an angel?". She looked at me and smiled, "You're the only one that could see me, you believe, its in your heart." And she was gone. And with that my life was changed dramatically.

~Unknown~

The Storm

The Storm


A little girl walked to and from school daily.
Though the weather that morning was questionable
and clouds were forming, she made her daily trek
to the elementary school. As the afternoon
progressed, thewinds whipped up, along with
thunder and lightning.

The mother of the little girl felt concerned that
her daughter would be frightened as she walked
home fromschool and she herself feared that the
electrical storm might harm her child. Following
the roar of thunder, lightning, like a flaming
sword, would cut through the sky.

Full of concern, the mother quickly got into her
car and drove along the route to herchild's
school. As she did so, she saw her little girl
walking along, but at each flash of lightning,
the child would stop, look up and smile. Another
and another were to follow quickly and with
each the little girl would look at the streak of
light and smile.

When the mother's car drew up beside the child
she lowered the window and called to her, "What are
you doing? Why do you keep stopping?"

The child answered, " I am trying to look pretty.
God keeps taking my picture."

May God bless you today as you face the storms
that come your way.


~Unknown~

The Cab Ride

THE CAB RIDE


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab
for a living. When I arrived at the
building was dark except for a single
light in a ground floor window. Under
these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.


But, I had seen too many
impoverished people who depended
on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went
to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.


So I walked to the door and knocked.
"Just a minute", answered a frail,
elderly voice. I could hear something
being dragged across the floor. After
a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me.
She was wearing a print dress and
a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.


By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one
had lived in it for years. All the furniture
was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner
was a cardboard box filled with photos
and glassware.


"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.


I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She
took my arm and we walked slowly
toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her.
"I just try to treat my passengers the
way I would want my mother treated".


"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.


When we got in the cab, she gave me
an address, then asked, "Could you
drive through downtown?" "It's not
the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".


I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her
eyes were glistening. "I don't have
any family left," she continued. "The
doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me
to take?" I asked. For the next two
hours, we drove through the city.

She showed me the building where
she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her
husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.


Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."


We drove in silence to the address
she had given me. It was a low building,
like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous
and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.


I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other
passengers," I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and
gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly.


"You gave an old woman a little
moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I squeezed her hand, then walked into
the dim morning light. Behind me, a
door shut. It was the sound of the
closing of a life.


I didn't pick up any more passengers
that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in
thought. For the rest of that day, I
could hardly talk. What if that woman
had gotten an angry driver, or one
who was impatient to end his shift?


What if I had refused to take the run,
or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I
have done anything more important
in my life.


We're conditioned to think that our
lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us
unaware, beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

~Unknown~

The Tablecloth
The Tablecloth


The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in urban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. And on Dec. 18th were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On Dec. 19th a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sunk when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, hand-made, ivory-colored, crotched tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc. to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.
The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet.
"Pastor," she asked, "Where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were.
These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a house cleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a concentration camp. He never saw his wife or his home again for all the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.
They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.
~As told by Pastor Rob Reid~

9/16/05
An Atheist was taking a walk through the woods. What majestic trees!
Whatpowerful rivers! What beautiful animals!" he said to himself. As he was
walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind
him. He turned to look. He saw a 7 foot grizzly bear charge Towards him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and
saw that the bear was closing in on him. He looked over his shoulder
again, and the bear was even closer. He tripped and fell on the ground.
He rolled over to pick himself up but saw the bear right on top of him,
reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike
him. At that instant the Atheist cried out: "Oh my God!..."

Time stopped. The bear froze. The forest was silent. As a bright light
shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky: "You deny my
existencefor all of these years, teach others I don't exist, and even
credit creation to a cosmic accident. Do you expect me to help you out
of this predicament?

Am I to count you as a believer?" The atheist looked directly into the
light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask you to treat me
as a Christian now, but perhaps could you make the BEAR a Christian?"

Very well," said the voice.The light went out. The sounds of the forest
resumed. And then the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws
together and bowed his head and spoke: Lord, bless this food, which I am
about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.

A Farmers Tale
Now Playing: Something I Snaged
Topic: take a break
A FARMERS TALE.

A Newfoundland farmer named Ralph had a wife who nagged him unmercifully from morning till night (and sometimes later); she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out ploughing with his old mule. So he tried to plough a lot.

One day, when he was out plouging, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began harassing him again. Complain, complain, nag, nag; it just went on and on. All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet caught her smack in the back of the head: Killed her on the spot!

At the funeral a few days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement.

This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the farmer about it. After the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.

The old farmer said, "Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement."

"And what about the men?" the minister asked.

"They all wanted to know if the mule was for sale."

8/18/05 12:30
I finally tracked down this pic that I knew I had some where. I'ld stumble across it and forget where I saw it. I still don't remember which album the original is in, but I did get it to an album that I use more often. I'm going to try to insert it here.
WELL, forget that. I'm not on a puter with my folder on it. (The library won't let us create folders.) Oh well, its in my tripod album. It's the pic with me in a white shirt. Going to see what's up at "the castle".