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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/20/2008 6:20:10 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
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Another repeat post from July 2007
The Fern and Bamboo
"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"
His answer surprised me... "Look around", He said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"
"Yes", I replied.
"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its
brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.
In the second year the Fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo".
He said. "In the third year, there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
In the fourth year, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit.
He said. "Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant.
But just 6 months later the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall. It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle."
He said to me. "Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots. I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you. Don't compare yourself to others."
He said. "The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern, yet, they both make the forest beautiful."
"Your time will come," God said to me. " You will rise high!"
"How high should I rise?" I asked.
"How high will the bamboo rise?" He asked in return.
"As high as it can?" I questioned.
"Yes." He said, "Give me glory by rising as high as you can."
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 12:17:56 AM
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AngelInWaiting1983
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Joined: 6/8/2007
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Good ones Santa!
_____________________________
Reflecting with Terri
Love is never tired of waiting; love is kind; love has no envy; love has no high opinion of itself, love has no pride.
I am my love's. And my love is mine.
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 8:18:47 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
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Thanks
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 11:43:49 AM
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BelovedHandMaiden
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From: Tennessee
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Great story....
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way a kid will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe I wasn't exactl y sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building which no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be see if we're doing it right. But one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Be sure and tell a Mom today how great she is!!
_____________________________
How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news of Jesus!
<--Death Star pumpkin!
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 3:12:15 PM
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txhoneydarlin
Posts: 616
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quote:
ORIGINAL: Smokymtnsanta
Originally posted July 2007
Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's passage?
His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone. Once he survives the night, he is a MAN.
He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own. The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man!
Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.
We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, our Heavenly Father is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us.
When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.
Hard things are put in our way, not to stop us, but to call out our courage and strength.
What an awesome way to picture God's love and protection! Thanks so much for the visual, Santa.
Terri and BHM - awesome postings! Thank you both for sharing with us.
_____________________________
- Melissa
Unforgiveness is like taking poison and hoping your enemy will die. - Joyce Meyer
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 4:26:10 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
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Joined: 6/13/2006
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Thanks Melissa for the kind words.
And thaks again to Brenda and Terri for your contributions to this thread. Appreciated.
As you see, some days I don't have anything to post but I can look back over many pages of "Inspirations" and find something that maybe someone needs to read again or to read it for the first time.
God Bless.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/21/2008 10:39:38 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
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Originally posted 7-18-07
Double Hanky Alert!!!! Oh, why not just get a boxfull of hankies for this one.
The Sandpiper by Robert Peterson
She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
"Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
"I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.
A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."
The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy.. I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy."
She giggled. "You're funny," she said.
In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."
The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.
The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.
"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know. You say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk."
Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.
Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."
She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." ; She seemed unusually pale and out of breath
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt?" she inquired.
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?"
"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.
"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."
Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.
"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:
A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.
A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand -- who taught me the gift of love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20
years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder
to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other.
The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.
Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis.
This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means,
take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.
This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you...
May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!
Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?
I wish for you, a sandpiper.
(Remember, I warned you ahead of time).
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 10:50:35 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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This was posted by Brenda (BelovedHandMaiden) 7-17-07.
Very good post. Enjoy.
A preacher friend of mine was talking and this is what he said:
"Have you ever thought about David's living room? I have... I mean, I have one of those minds... what can I say?"
"So, you get invited over to David's house for dinner. You knock on the door and David opens the door and invites you into his living room. There on the back of the sofa is this nice lion skin afghan. You walk around the sofa and your feet sink into this gorgeous bear skin rug. You sit on the sofa and are talking with David. All at once, you look up and mounted over the mantle is Goliath's head."
Can you just imagine????
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 10:53:04 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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The Two Wolves (Encore post)
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes
on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between two "wolves"
inside us all...
· One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed,
arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride,
superiority, and ego.
· The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,
kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."
The grand son thought about it for a minute and then asked his
grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 11:47:53 AM
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GVfan
Posts: 16501
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That is a real good one, Santa!!!
_____________________________
Donna Hefner
Acworth, Ga.
<--- Greater Vision and me at the 2008 NQC
Come visit at http://www.myspace.com/donnashappenings
And my BLOG, Keepin' An Eye on Greater Vision
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 12:16:12 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
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From: The North
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THANKS DONNA
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 2:46:34 PM
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BelovedHandMaiden
Posts: 4128
Joined: 3/17/2007
From: Tennessee
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BEAUTIFUL CHRISTIAN SISTER!
By Maya Angelou
A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ
That a man should have to seek Him first to find her.
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I'm not shouting 'I'm clean livin.''
I'm whispering 'I was lost, now I'm found and forgiven.'
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak and need His strength to carry on.
When I say . . 'I am a Christian' I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed and need God to clean my mess.
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible but, God believes I am worth it.
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I still feel the sting of pain . . .
I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name.
When I say . . . 'I am a Christian' I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow!
_____________________________
How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news of Jesus!
<--Death Star pumpkin!
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 10:07:14 PM
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AngelInWaiting1983
Posts: 8366
Joined: 6/8/2007
From: South Carolina
Status: online
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I don't know if this one has been posted, but I just feel the need....
~~~ The Story of the Silver Refiner ~~~
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was a group of women in a Bible study on the book
of Malachi. As they were studying chapter three, they came
across verse three which says: He will sit as a refiner and
purifier of silver.
This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this
statement meant about the character and nature of God.
One of the women offered to find out about the process of
refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.
That week this woman called up a silver smith and made
an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention
anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond
her curiosity about the process of refining silver.
As she watched the silver smith, he held a piece of silver
over the fire and let it heat up.
He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.
The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot -
then she thought again about the verse, that he sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.
She asked the silver smith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was
being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.
The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the
silver smith, how do you know when the silver is fully refined?
He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy--when I see my image in it."
Author Unknown
_____________________________
Reflecting with Terri
Love is never tired of waiting; love is kind; love has no envy; love has no high opinion of itself, love has no pride.
I am my love's. And my love is mine.
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/22/2008 11:24:37 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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Good posts from Brenda and Terri. Thanks.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/23/2008 1:50:52 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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(Repeat) On the lighter side:
You Know You Live in a Small Town When...
The "road hog" in front of you on Main Street is a farmer's combine.
The local phone book has only one yellow page.
Third Street is on the edge of town.
You leave your jacket on the back of the chair in the cafe, and when you go back the next day, it's still there, on the same chair.
You don't signal turns because everyone knows where you're going anyway.
No social events can be scheduled when the school gym floor is being varnished.
You call a wrong number and are supplied with the correct one.
Everyone knows all the news before it's published; residents read the hometown paper just to see whether the publisher got it right.
Received from Laugh and Lift.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/23/2008 1:54:20 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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(Originally posted by Brenda (BelovedHandMaiden) in July, 2007)
(Hanky Alert)
Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, told this as it happened to her in Africa.
"One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator. (We had no electricity to run an incubator.) We also had no special feeding facilities.
Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed.
As in the West it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
"All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. "Your job is to keep the baby warm."
The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon."
While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?"
As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen?" I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!
Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears blurring my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas -- that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.... could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out -- yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle!
I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!"
Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted. Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"
That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child -- five months before -- in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon."
"Before they call, I will answer!" Isa 65:24
_____________________________
Your life is the only Bible that some people read.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/23/2008 9:13:22 PM
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BelovedHandMaiden
Posts: 4128
Joined: 3/17/2007
From: Tennessee
Status: offline
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Hanky Alert!!!
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She
said: 'How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?'
The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it.'
Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where
were you, God, when my son needed you?'
The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the
nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he's transported to the university.'
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran
her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. 'Would you like a lock of
his hair?' the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.
The mother said, 'It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for
Study. He said it might help somebody else. 'I said no at first, but Jimmy said,
'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy
spend one more day with his Mom.' She went on, 'My Jimmy had a heart of gold.
Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.'
Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending
most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy's belongings on
the seat beside her in the car.
The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She
carried Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her
son's room.
She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room
exactly where he had always kept them. She lay down across his bed and, hugging
his pillow, cried herself to sleep.
It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a
folded letter. The letter said:
'Dear Mom,
I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or
stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always
love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again.
Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won't be so lonely, that's
okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide
to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do.
You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know.
Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa
met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long
time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly.. And,
you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him,
I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got
to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when
I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and
everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God
handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think
Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you.
God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him
where was He when I needed him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as
when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with
all His children.
Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written e xcept you. To
everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to
give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of
Life.. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food
will be great.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone..
I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to
see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get
me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?
Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.
_____________________________
How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news of Jesus!
<--Death Star pumpkin!
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/23/2008 9:41:23 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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Another great post Brenda. Thanks.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/24/2008 8:33:02 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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The real art of conversation
is not only to say the right thing at the right time,
but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.
The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight,
because by then your body and your fat
have gotten to be really good friends.
The easiest way to find something lost around the house............... is to buy a replacement.
He who hesitates is probably right.
Did you ever notice:
The Roman Numerals for forty (40) are " XL."
The sole purpose of a child's middle name is so he can tell when he's really in trouble!
There's always a lot to be thankful for if you take time to look for it.
For example I am sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt.
Aging:
Eventually you will reach a point when you
stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.
When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to youth, think of Algebra.
Lord, Keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my MOUTH!!...AMEN!!!
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
The place to be in the Smokies:
www.hiddenmountain.com
"Jesus Is The Reason For All Seasons"
Santa, Mary Alice and Gabrielle Lovelace
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 4/24/2008 9:19:39 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13689
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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Check this out & you'll be smarter than you were 3 minutes ago!
'Stewardesses' is the longest word typed with only the left hand .
And 'lollipop' is the longest word typed with your right hand. (Bet you tried this out mentally, didn't you?)
No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.
'Dreamt' is the only English word that ends in the letters 'mt'.? (Are you doubting this?)
Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears never stop growing.
The sentence: 'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog' uses every letter of the alphabet. (Now, you KNOW you're going to try this out for accuracy, right?)
The words 'racecar,' 'kayak' & and 'level' are the same whether they are read left to right or right to left (palindromes). (Yep, I knew you were going to 'do' this one.)
There are only four words in the English language which end in 'dous':
tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous. (You're not doubting this, are you?)
There are two words in the English language that have all five vowels in order:
'abstemious' and 'facetious.' (Yes, admit it, you are going to say, a e i o u)
TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard. (All you typists are going to test this out)
How about it armydude????
A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
A goldfish has a memory span of three seconds. (Some days that's about what my memory span is.)
A 'jiffy' is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.
A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.
A snail can sleep for three years. (I know some people that could do this too.!)
Almonds are a member of the peach family.
An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain. (I know some people like that also)
Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age.
February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon.
In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.
Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors
Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite!
Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
The averag e person's le ft hand does 56% of the typing.
The cruise liner, QE 2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel that it burns.
The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate
bar melted in his pocket. (Good thing he did that.)
The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.
There are more chickens than people in the world.
Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.
Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
Now you know more than you did before!!
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