Things we keep

I grew up with practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a name for it... and a father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away.

I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my father died, and on that clear winter's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away... never to return. So, while we have it... it's best that we love it... and care for it... and fix it when it's broken... and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for marriage... and old cars... and children with bad report cards... and dogs with bad hips... and aging parents... and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

Some things we keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special... and so, we keep them close!

If there are some folks in your life that you think are 'keepers,' send this to them. Remember... good friends are like stars... You don't always see them, but you know they're always there. Keep them close!

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THINGS GOD WON'T ASK ON YOUR FINAL DAY

1. God won't ask what kind of car you drove. He'll ask how many people you drove who didn't have transportation.

2. God won't ask the square footage of your house. He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

3. God won't   ask about the clothes you had in your closet. He'll ask how many you helped to clothe.

4. God won't ask what your highest salary was. He'll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.

5. God won't ask what your job title was. He'll ask if you performed your job to the best of your ability.

6. God won't ask how many friends you had. He'll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.

7. God won't ask what neighborhood you lived in. He'll ask how you treated your neighbors.

8. God won't ask about the color of your skin. He'll ask about the content of your character.

9. And God won't ask why it took you so long to seek Salvation. He'll lovingly take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.

Someday

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different. The memo pad on my refrigerator door will read, "Afternoon at hairdresser," or, "browse through art gallery," or, "start golf lessons"... instead of, "pediatrician at 2:00," or, "Cub Pack Meeting.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, the house will be free of graffiti. There will be no crayoned smiley faces on the walls, no names scrawled in furniture dust, no pictures fingered on steamy windows, and no initials etched in bars of soap.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get through a whole chapter of an engrossing book without being interrupted to sew a nose on a teddy bear, stop a toddler from eating the dog food, or rescue the cat from the toy box.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I won't find brown apple cores under the beds, empty spindles on the toilet paper hanger, or fuzzy caterpillars in denim jeans. And I will be able to find a pencil in the desk drawer, a slice of leftover pie in the refrigerator, and the comics still in the center of the newspaper.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll breeze right past the gumball machine in the supermarket without having to fumble for pennies; I'll stroll freely down each aisle without fear of inadvertently passing the candy or toy sections; and I'll choose cereal without considering what noise it makes, what prize it contains, or what color it comes in.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll prepare Quiche Loraine, or Scallops Amandine, or just plain liver and onions, and no one will say, "Yuk! I wish we were having hot dogs!" or, "Jimmy's lucky, his Mom lets him eat chocolate bars for dinner,"; And we'll eat by candle light, with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots over the flame to "make them taste better," or arguing about who gets to blow out the candle when we're done.

SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, I'll get ready for my bath without first having to remove a fleet of boats, two rubber alligators, and a soggy tennis ball from the tub. I'll luxuriate in hot, steamy water and billows of bubbles for a whole hour, and no fists will pound on the door, no small voices will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta go!

YES, SOMEDAY, when the kids are grown, life will be different.
They'll leave our nest, and the house will be Quiet... and calm... and empty... and lonely. And I won't like that at all! And then... I'll spend my time, not looking forward to SOMEDAY, but looking back at YESTERDAY.

Recognize all of the angels-in-training around you.

-- Author unknown

One more time Daddy

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. “That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide. “He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the pink top.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Eve?” Eve pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Daddy. Please? Just five more minutes.” The man nodded and Eve continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Eve pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.” The man smiled and said, “OK.” “My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tom was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tom and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Eve. She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get five more minutes to watch her play.”

Life is all about making priorities, and family is one and only priority on top of all other, so spend all time you can with loved ones.

A Change of Plans

I had not really planned on taking a trip this time of year, and yet I found myself packing rather hurriedly.

This trip was going to be unpleasant and I knew in advance that no real good would come of it.

I'm talking about my annual "Guilt Trip."

I got tickets to fly there on "WISHIHAD" airlines. It was an extremely short flight.

I got my baggage, which I could not check. I chose to carry it myself all the way. It was weighted down with a thousand memories of what might have been.

No one greeted me as I entered the terminal to the Regret City International Airport.  I say international because people from all over the world come to this dismal town.

As I checked into the Last Resort Hotel, I noticed that they would be hosting the year's most important event, the Annual Pity Party.

I wasn't going to miss that great social occasion. Many of the towns leading citizens would be there.

First, there would be the Done family, you know, Should Have, Would Have and Could Have.

Then came the I Had family.

You probably know ol' Wish and his clan.

Of course, the Opportunities would be present, Missed and Lost.

The biggest family would be the Yesterday's. There are far too many of them to count, but each one would have a very sad story to share.

Then Shattered Dreams would surely make and appearance.

And It's Their Fault would regale us with stories (excuses) about how things had failed in his life, and each story would be loudly applauded by Don't Blame Me and I Couldn't Help It.

Well, to make a long story short, I went to this depressing party knowing that there would be no real benefit in doing so. And, as usual, I became very depressed.

But as I thought about all of the stories of failures brought back from the past, it occurred to me that all of this trip and subsequent "pity party" could be cancelled by ME!

I started to truly realize that I did not have to be there. I didn't have to be depressed.

One thing kept going through my mind, I can't change yesterday, but I do have the power to make today a wonderful day.

I can be happy, joyous, fulfilled, encouraged, as well as encouraging. Knowing this, I left the City of Regret immediately and left no forwarding address.

Am I sorry for mistakes I've made in the past? YES! But there is no physical way to undo them.

So, if you're planning a trip back to the City of Regret, please cancel all your reservations now. Instead, take a trip to a place called, Starting Again.

I liked it so much that I have now taken up permanent residence there. My neighbors, the I Forgive Myselfs and the New Starts are so very helpful.

By the way, you don't have to carry around heavy baggage, because the load is lifted from your shoulders upon arrival.

God bless you in finding this great town. If you can find it — it's in your own heart — please look me up.

I live on ICANDOIT street.

“I can't change yesterday, but I do have the power to make today a wonderful day.” -- Anonymous

All of the mothers

This is for all the mothers who probably won't win Mother of the Year. All the runners-up and all the wannabes. The mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care. This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" they could say, "Of course, wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK, honey, Mommy's here." This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night and can't find their children.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and made them homes. For all the mothers of the victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?

So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't. This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year... And then reading it again, "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2-year-old who wants ice cream before dinner. This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead. For all the mothers who bite their lips - sometimes until they bleed - when their 14 year olds dye their hair green. Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse. This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot. This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.

This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's graves. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomachaches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse and hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without. This is for all of you.

Hang in there, and know that you are loved and needed.

"Home is what catches us when we fall - and we all fall."
- Anonymous

Make a place beautiful

Some people look for a beautiful place. Others make a place beautiful.

Superstars and Blackholes

By Dr. Anthony Fernando PhD.

Have you ever noticed that there are two different types of people in the world?

Firstly there are the ’superstars’. Just like their celestial counterparts, superstars radiate warmth, love and positive energy.

You can recognise a superstar by the following characteristics:

•  They are positive
• They speak well of the people around them
• They smile and laugh easily
• They accept compliments graciously
• They encourage and support those around them
• They have clear goals and enjoy the process of working towards them
• They take action

Then there are the ‘black holes’ of the world. These are the people who seem to suck the life and light out of everything and everyone around them.

You can recognise a black hole by the following characteristics:

• They generally have a negative view of the world
• They regularly criticise others
• They are quick to point out why other people’s plans will never work
• They rarely smile or laugh unless they are laughing at someone else
• They often do not have clear goals and instead just plod along from day to day

 You probably know people who fit well into these two categories, but as with anything in real life, these distinctions are not clear cut.

In reality, all of us are capable of being a superstar or a black hole depending on what we are thinking and how we are feeling at any given moment.

This week I’d like to encourage you to take a look at how you are interacting with those around you on a day-to-day basis. Are you a superstar – radiating warmth and positive energy to everyone you meet, or do you tend to be a bit of a black hole?

The greatest thing about becoming aware of how you are acting is that you always have the choice of how to behave in any given circumstance. Each and every day you can choose whether you are going to be a superstar or a black hole.

Happiness is a journey

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are.

After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, when we are able to go on a nice vacation or when we retire.

The truth is there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with... and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting...
Until your car or home is paid off.
Until you get a new car or home.
Until your kids leave the house.
Until you go back to school.
Until you finish school.
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married.
Until you get a divorce.
Until you have kids.
Until you retire.
Until summer.
Until spring.
Until winter.
Until fall.
Until you die.

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So, work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt and dance like no one's watching.

Thoughts on Motherhood

Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby... that somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history.

Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct... that somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.

Somebody said being a mother is boring... that somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good"... that somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

Somebody said "good" mothers never raise their voices... that somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother... that somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.

Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first... that somebody doesn't have five children.

Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books... that somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.

Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery... that somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten... or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."

Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back... that somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married... that somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home... that somebody never had grandchildren.

Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her... that somebody isn't a mother.

Remember to put the glass down

A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: “How heavy is this glass of water?” Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz. She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.” Remember to put the glass down.

A teacher's survival kit for everyday living

TOOTHPICK
Reminds us to look for the good qualities in our pupils.
You may be the only teacher who says something positive to them that day.

RUBBER BAND
Reminds the teacher that they have to be flexible.
Things don't always go the way we plan,
But flexibility will help to work it out.

BAND AID
Reminds the teacher that sometimes we do more than teach,
That we help heal hurt feelings, broken dreams,
And lend an ear to a problem.

PENCIL
Reminds us to be thankful and we should list our blessings daily,
But also encourage our pupils to list their blessings
And to be proud of their accomplishments.

ERASER
Reminds us to allow pupils to know we are human
And make mistakes just like they do, and it's ok.
We must all be able to learn from our mistakes.

CHEWING GUM
Reminds us to stick with it
And encourage our pupils to do like wise.
Even the impossible task or assignment can be accomplished
By sticking to it.

MINT
Reminds us and our pupils we are worth a mint.
(We may not be paid a mint, but are worth one.)

CANDY KISS
Reminds us that everyone needs a hug,
Kiss, or warm fuzzy everyday.
(All teachers, pupils, parents, and even administrators)

TEA BAG
Reminds us we need time to relax,
Go over our blessing, and take time for others.
Family, husbands, wives, friends, children need quality time together.

A teacher must be willing to show their pupils how much they care!!!

Unknown