Archive for the 'Stories' Category
Laughter the BEST Medicine!!!
Three women die together in an accident and go to heaven.
When they get there, St Peter says,
We only have one rule here in heaven:
Don’t step on the ducks!
So they enter heaven, and sure enough,
There are ducks all over the place.
It is almost impossible not to step on a duck,
And although they try their best to avoid them,
The first woman accidentally steps on one.
Along comes St Peter with the ugliest man she ever saw.
St Peter chains them together and says,
Your punishment for stepping on a duck is to
Spend eternity chained to this ugly man!’
The next day, the second woman steps accidentally on a duck
And along comes St Peter, who doesn’t miss a thing.
With him is another extremely ugly man.
He chains them together
With the same admonishment as for the first woman.
The third woman has observed all this and,
Not wanting to be chained
For all eternity to an ugly man, is very,
VERY careful where she steps.
She manages to go months without stepping on any ducks,
But One day St Peter comes up to her
With the most handsome man she has ever laid eyes on
Very tall, long eyelashes, muscular.
St Peter chains them together without saying a word.
The happy woman says,
‘I wonder what I did to deserve being
Chained to you for all of eternity?’
The guy says, I don’t know about you,
But I stepped on a duck.
When things in life seem too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and 2 cups of cocoa.
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full, they agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous yes.
The professor then produced two cups of cocoa from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. “Now,” the jar is full said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.
The golf balls are the important things – God, family, children, health, friends, and your favorite passions — things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car.
The sand is everything else — the small stuff.
If you put the sand into the jar first, “he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to be healthy. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal.” Take care of the golf balls first — the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the cocoa represented. The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a cup of cocoa with a friend.”
It’s Christmas! - Take time to visit your best friend, give a copy of this story with a can of hot cocoa mix – and two special mugs – reminisce old times!
A Tribute to Getting Older and Gray Hair
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, and my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so fascinating on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 & 70′s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love …. I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini sun bathers.
They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.
We are blessed to be women and men that have lived long enough to have our hair turning gray, with our youthful laughs forever etched into deep grooves on our face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being older. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody’s beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
May you always have a rainbow of smiles on your face and in your heart forever!
Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down – going 73 in a 55 zone. It was the fourth time in a few months. How could a guy get caught so often?
When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car with the big pad in hand.
It was Bob? – Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket – a cop catching a guy from his own church, a guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office, a guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.
Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he’d never seen in uniform.
“Hi, Bob. It’s fancy meeting you like this.” “Hello, Jack.” – no smile. “I guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids.” “Yeah, I guess.” Bob seemed uncertain, which was good. “I’ve seen some long days at the office lately. I’m afraid I bent the rules a bit -just this once.” Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement.
“Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. You know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct.” Ouch! This was not going in the right direction. It was time to change tactics.
“What’d you clock me at?” “Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?” “Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65.” The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket. “Please, Jack – in the car” Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door slamming it shut. He stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window.
The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn’t he asked for a driver’s license? Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again.
A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob with a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip. “Thanks.” Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? – some kind of joke? It certainly was not a ticket. Jack began to read:
“Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car – you guessed it – from a speeding driver. After a fine and three months in jail, the man was free – free to hug his daughters, all three of them. I only had one, and I’m going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I’ve tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again, even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack. My son is all I have left. Bob”
Jack turned around in time to see Bob’s police car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.
Life is precious. Handle with care. Drive safely and carefully. Remember, cars are not the only things recalled by their maker.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket.. I thought to myself, ‘If this were my plant, I’d put it in the loveliest container I had!’
My friend changed my mind. ‘I ran short of pots,’ she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting out in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden.’
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. ‘Here’s an especially beautiful one,’ God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. He won’t mind starting in this small body.’
All this happened long ago — and now, in God’s garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.
The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.’ (1 Samuel 16:7)
Friendships are very special. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear and they share a word of praise.
Four things you can’t recover
The stone……..after the throw. The word……..after it’s said.
The occasion………after it’s missed. The time……….after it’s gone
I guess the moral to the story – Don’t judge a book by its cover – Read the beginning of the story “The Fisherman”
John is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, ‘If I were any better, I would be twins!’
He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, John was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing his style really made me curious, so one day I went up and asked him, ‘I don’t get it!’ ‘You can’t be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?’ He replied, ‘Each morning I wake up and say to myself, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or…you can choose to be in a bad mood – I choose to be in a good mood.’
Each time something bad happens, I can choose two paths, to be a victim or to learn from it. My choice is to learn from it. If you do not learn from history, it will repeat itself.
Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or…I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life.
‘Yeah, right, it’s not that easy,’ I protested. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said. ‘Life is all about choices. When you clear away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood.
The bottom line: It’s your choice how you live your life.’
I reflected on what he said. Soon hereafter, I left the Tower Industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that he was involved in a serious accident, falling some 60 feet from a communications tower. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, he was released from the hospital with rods placed in his back.
I saw him about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, ‘If I were any better, I’d be twins…Wanna see my scars?’ I declined to see his wounds, but I did ask him what had gone through his mind as the accident took place. ‘The first thing that went through my mind was the well-being of my soon-to-be born daughter,’ he replied. ‘Then, as I lay on the ground, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or…I could choose to die. I chose to live.’ ‘Weren’t you scared? Did you lose consciousness?’ I asked. He continued, ‘…the paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read ‘he’s a dead man’. I knew I needed to take action.’ ‘What did you do?’ I asked.
‘Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me,’ said John. ‘She asked if I was allergic to anything ‘Yes, I replied.’ The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, ‘Gravity”
Over their laughter, I told them, ‘I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead.’ He lived, thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude…I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully.
Attitude, after all, is everything.
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’ Matthew 6:34. After all today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
Five Lessons to make you think about the way we treat people?
Always remember those who serve.
In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. ‘How much is an ice cream sundae?’ he asked. ‘Fifty cents,’ replied the waitress.
The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it. ‘Well, how much is a plain vanilla ice cream?’ he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. ‘Thirty-five cents,’ she brusquely replied.
The little boy again counted his coins. ‘I’ll have the plain vanilla ice cream,’ he said.
The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies.
You see, he couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.
For Lesson # 4 Overcome the obstacles in our path
His name was Callaghan, he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black mud, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Callaghan saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman’s sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Callaghan had saved. “I want to repay you,” said the nobleman. “You saved my son’s life.
“No, I can’t accept payment for what I did,” the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer’s own son came outside. “Is this your son?” the nobleman asked. “Yes,” the farmer replied proudly.
“I’ll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he’ll no doubt grow to be a man we’ll both be proud of.”
Someone Once Said:
What comes around goes around.
Work like you don’t need the money.
Love like you’ve never been hurt.
Dance like nobody’s watching.
Sing like nobody’s listening.
Make YOUR life Heaven on Earth.
Something to Think about!
To All My Valued Employees,
There have been some rumblings around the office about the future of this company, and more specifically, your job. As you know, the economy has changed for the worse and presents many challenges. However, the good news is this: The economy doesn’t pose a threat to your job. What does threaten your job however, is the changing political landscape in this country.
However, let me tell you some little tidbits of fact that might help you decide what is in your best interests.
First, while it is easy to spew rhetoric that casts employers against employees, you have to understand that for every business owner there is a back-story. This back-story is often neglected and overshadowed by what you see and hear. Sure, you see me park my Mercedes E Class outside. You’ve seen my big home at last years Christmas party. I’m sure; all these flashy icons of luxury conjure up some idealized thoughts about my life.
However, what you don’t see is the back-story. I started this company 28 years ago. At that time, I lived in a 300 square foot studio apartment for 3 years. My entire living apartment was converted into an office so I could put forth 100% effort into building a company, which by the way, would eventually employ you.
My diet consisted of Ramen Pride noodles because every dollar I spent went back into this company. I drove a rusty Toyota Corolla with a defective transmission. I didn’t have time to date. Often times, I stayed home on weekends, while my friends went out drinking and partying. In fact, I was married to my business – hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.
Meanwhile, my friends got jobs. They worked 40 hours a week and made a modest $50K a year and spent every dime they earned. They drove flashy cars and lived in expensive homes and wore fancy designer clothes. Instead of hitting the Nordstrom’s for the latest hot fashion item, I was trolling through the discount store extracting any clothing item that didn’t look like it was birthed in the 70′s. My friends refinanced their mortgages and lived a life of luxury. I, however, did not. I put my time, my money, and my life into a business with a vision that eventually, some day, I too, will be able to afford these luxuries my friends supposedly had.
So, while you physically arrive at the office at 9am, mentally check in at about noon, and then leave at 5pm, I don’t. There is no “off” button for me. When you leave the office, you are done and you have a weekend all to yourself. I unfortunately do not have the freedom. I eat, and breathe this company every minute of the day. There is no rest. There is no weekend. There is no happy hour.
Every day this business is attached to my hip like a 1 year old special-needs child. You, of course, only see the fruits of that garden – the nice house, the Mercedes, the vacations… you never realize the back-story and the sacrifices I’ve made.
Now, the economy is falling apart and I, the guy that made all the right decisions and saved his money, have to bail-out all the people who didn’t. The people that overspent their paychecks suddenly feel entitled to the same luxuries that I earned and sacrificed a decade of my life for.
Yes, business ownership has is benefits but the price I’ve paid is steep and not without wounds.
Unfortunately, the cost of running this business, and employing you, is starting to eclipse the threshold of marginal benefit and let me tell you why:
I am being taxed to death and the government thinks I don’t pay enough. I have state taxes. Federal taxes. Property taxes. Sales and use taxes. Payroll taxes. Workers compensation taxes. Unemployment taxes. Taxes on taxes. I have to hire a taxman to manage all these taxes and then guess what? I have to pay taxes for employing him. Government mandates and regulations and all the accounting that goes with it, now occupy most of my time. On Oct 15th, I wrote a check to the US Treasury for $288,000 for
quarterly taxes. You know what my “stimulus” check was? Zero. Nada. Zilch.
The question I have is this: Who is stimulating the economy? Me, the guy who has provided 14 people good paying jobs and serves over 2,200,000 people per year with a flourishing business? Or, the single mother sitting at home pregnant with her fourth child waiting for her next welfare checks? Obviously, government feels the latter is the economic stimulus of this country.
The fact is, if I deducted (Stole) 50% of your paycheck you’d quit and you wouldn’t work here. I mean, why should you? That’s nuts. Who wants to get rewarded only 50% of their hard work? Well, I agree which is why your job is in jeopardy.
Here is what many of you don’t understand … to stimulate the economy you need to stimulate what runs the economy. Had suddenly government mandated to me that I didn’t need to pay taxes, guess what? Instead of depositing that $288,000 into the Washington black hole, I would have spent it, hired more employees, and generated substantial economic growth. My employees would have enjoyed the wealth of that tax cut in the form of promotions and better salaries. But you can forget it now.
When you have a comatose man on the verge of death, you don’t defibrillate and shock his thumb thinking that will bring him back to life, do you? Or, do you defibrillate his heart? Business is at the heart of America and always has been. To restart it, you must stimulate it, not kill it. Suddenly, the power brokers in Washington believe the poor of America are the essential drivers of the American economic engine. Nothing could be further from the truth and this is the type of change you can keep.
So where am I going with all this? It’s quite simple.
If any new taxes are levied on me, or my company, my reaction will be swift and simple. I fire you. I fire your co-workers. You can then plead with the government to pay for your mortgage, your SUV, and your child’s future. Frankly, it isn’t my problem any more.
Then, I will close this company down, move to another country, and retire. You see, I’m done. I’m done with a country that penalizes the productive and gives to the unproductive. My motivation to work and to provide jobs will be destroyed, and with it, will be my citizenship.
So, if you lose your job, it won’t be at the hands of the economy; it will be at the hands of a political hurricane that swept through this country, steamrolled the constitution, and will have changed its landscape forever. If that happens, you can find me sitting on a beach, retired, and with no employees to worry about …
Signed, The Boss
A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it had and it could go no further.
Then the man decided to help the butterfly, so he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.
Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly.
What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand was that the restricting cocoon, and the struggle required for the butterfly to get though the tiny opening, were God’s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into it wings, so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If God allowed us to go through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what
we could have been. And we could never fly.