The Ice Cream Comb Story

By Rick Beneteau

She was three. Just released from a far-away hospital after life threatening brain surgery, ready to take on the world again. I was happy just to have her back. My little "Mr. Clean" (shaven head and hoop earrings) and me driving along to our local mall. Hanging out with dad day.

I recall her words as if it were yesterday.

"Daddy, can I get a treat?"

As she was understandably spoiled (if there is such a thing), I replied "ok honey, but just ONE".

Her eyes beamed like the Fourth of July in anticipation of that something only she knew at the time.

We drove around to the new end of the mall on the normal seek-and-destroy mission of capturing a parking place. After all, it was Saturday. We landed a fair distance from our destination, and began walking hand-in-hand towards the entrance, her pace gaining momentum with each tiny step. A few feet from the doors she broke loose and ran hands-first into the thick wall of glass, trying with everything she had to swing the big doors open. No luck. With a little assistance, she 'did it' and tried the very same thing at the second set of doors.

It was then that I asked her what she wanted for her treat. Without hesitation, she matter-of-factly said "an ice-cream comb from the ice-cream store". Ok, the goal was set and we were in the mall!

But hold on! What was this? At the end of what was just an ordinary looking lane of retail chain outlets she spied something new—this huge fountain, water shooting who knows how high into the air. The new goal line!

She ran, and I walked (don't ya just hate it when parents let their kids run wild in public?), and we arrived at the spectacle at about the same time. The turbulent noise was almost deafening.

"Daddy, can I make a wish, can I make a wish?" she screamed as she jumped with the kind of pure joy we’ve all long since forgotten.

"Sure honey, but that will be YOUR TREAT you know" I explained (gotta be firm with these kind of things).

She agreed.

I fumbled around in my pocket and pulled out what I think was a dime (big spender) and placed it in her outstretched hand. She cupped it tightly, closed her eyes and grimaced, formulating her wish. I stared at that little scrunched-up face and said my own kind of prayer of thanks, feeling so blessed to still have this ball of energy in my life. And then like a shooting star, the coin was flung into the foaming water and with it, her wish.

We happily continued our stroll into the familiar section of the mall. An eerie silence ensued, which I was admittedly uncomfortable with. I couldn't resist breaking it.

"Aren't you gonna tell daddy what you wished for?"

She retorted "I wished I could get an ice-cream comb".

I just about lost it right then and there. Couldn’t imagine what the shoppers thought of this lunatic laughing uncontrollably in the middle of a crowded mall. And needless to say, she got her wish, and two treats.

Little did I know then that my beautiful little girl would soon embark on a long road of seizures, surgeries, special schools, medications and end up partially paralyzed on her right side. She never learned to ride a bike.

Today, she is almost seventeen. She cannot use her right hand and walks with a noticeable limp. But she has overcome what life seemed to so cruelly inflict on her. She was teased a lot and always struggled in school, both socially and academically. But each year she showed improvement. She is planning a career in early childhood education. With one year still remaining in high school, her and I, one night not too long ago mapped out all the courses she would need to take in community college. It was her idea. She volunteers weekly at a local hospital, on the children's floor. She baby-sits a neighbors children five days a week. On her own this year, she stood outside in line for four hours on a cold Canadian January afternoon and enrolled herself, with her own babysitting money, into two courses she felt she would need for college.

You see, to her, failure was never an option.

It would almost be redundant for me to explain why I wanted to share this story with you. She IS my daughter and I carry all those fatherly biases with me wherever I go. But these aside, she is a very exceptional person and one that I admire and have learned a lot from.

It is my sincerest hope that her story will have even a momentary positive impact on you as a human being, a parent, a spouse or even, an entrepreneur.

I’d like to leave you with a closing thought. As human beings, we deserve all the treats, and the multitude of good things that life can offer us. We all have wishes and dreams, AND the power to make them reality. Just simple truths of the universe.

We can wish for, and get, that ice-cream comb.

The Parable of the Two Servants

There once was a man who had two indentured servants. One day a disagreement arose between them as to who was the greatest in the eyes of their master. So they went to the master of the house and asked him, "My lord, which of us is greater?"

The master of the house replied, "I will let you discover that for yourself. I will ask each of you a question and you must answer truthfully."

So the servants stood before him and he started to question them. To the first servant, he asked, "What do you do for me?"

"Sir, I work in the fields all day long to grow wheat for my lord's granary," the first servant replied. "Then, at night, I go through the house and fill all the lamps so that my lord will have light. For this you pay me a wage, but I hope that one day that I may earn my freedom."

The master nodded his head. He turned to the second indentured servant and asked, "And what do you do for me?"

"Sir," he replied, "I am an educated man. I am well-versed in literature, music, mathematics and science. I teach your children all that I know so that one day they may leave your house and make a success in the world. And when they do, I hope that you will grant me my freedom. In the meantime, you give me a wage for what I do."

Again, the master nodded. Then he turned to a lowly slave who was standing nearby, and asked, "And what do you do for me?"

"You know that I love you, my lord, and my only wish is to do whatever you ask," the slave answered without hesitation. "You bought me and I know that I will be a slave for life, therefore I earn no wage. But you are kind and merciful to me, and do not beat me as other masters beat their slaves. You are wise and just and kind and that is why I love you."

The master of the house smiled. "Then you are the greatest of all my servants and I will make you a free man."

When they heard this, the two servants were aghast. "Why him?" they cried. "We do much more work than he does. He waits around for you to give him an order, but we labor in your fields without orders, teach your children, and light your lamps. We work unceasingly and should be rewarded."

"Yes," the master of the house replied. "You do work in my fields, and do all the other things that you said. But this man wants only to serve me, not himself. He waits patiently until I tell him what I want him to do. His faithfulness has never failed him. He now has his reward -- his freedom. And I will place him as overseer, and you will be his servants. Because of his faithful service to me -- though he was once a lowly slave -- he is truly the greater."

Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but like slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men, because you know that the Lord will reward everyone for whatever good he does, whether he is slave or free. (Ephesians 6:6-8 NIV)

The Man in the Glass

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father or mother or wife or husband
Whose judgment upon you must pass,
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

Some people might think you’re a straight-shootin’ chum
And call you a wonderful guy.
But the man in the glass says you’re only a bum
If you can’t look him straight in the eye.

He’s the fellow to please, never mind all the rest
For he’s with you clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most dangerous test
If the guy in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass.
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.

On Doing Your Best

A coach can only do his best, nothing more, but he does owe that, not only to himself, but to the people who employ him and to the youngsters under his supervision. If you truly do your best, and only you will really know, then you are successful and the actual score is immaterial whether it was favorable or unfavorable. However, when you fail to do your best, you have failed, even though the score might have been to our liking.

This does not mean that you should not coach to win. You must teach our players to win and do everything in your power that is ethical and honest to win. I do not want players who do not have a keen desire to win and do not play hard and aggressively to accomplish that objective. However, I want to be able to feel and want my players sincerely to feel that doing the best that are capable of doing is victory in itself and less than that is defeat.

It is altogether possible that whatever success I have had or may have could be in direct proportion to my ability not only to instill that idea in my players but also live up to it myself.

Therefore, I continually stress to my players that all I expect from them at practice and in the games is their best effort. They must be eager to become the very best that they are capable of becoming. I tell them that, although I want them to be pleased over victory and personal accomplishment, I want them to get the most satisfaction from knowing that both they and the team did their best. I hope that their actions or conduct following a game will not indicate victory or defeat. Head should always be high when you have done your best regardless of the scores and there is no reason for being overly jubilant at victory or unduly depressed by defeat.

Furthermore, I am rather thoroughly convinced that those who have the self-satisfaction of knowing they have done their best will also be on the most desirable end of the score as much, and perhaps more, than their natural ability might indicate.

By John Wooden, from: Practical Modern Basketball

On Doing Your Best

• If you truly do your best, and only you will really know, then you are successful and the actual score is immaterial whether it was favorable or unfavorable. However, when you fail to do your best, you have failed, even though the score might have been to your liking.

• I do not want players who do not have a keen desire to win and do not play hard and aggressively to accomplish that objective. However, I want to be able to feel and want my players sincerely to feel that doing the best that you are capable of doing is victory in itself and less that that is defeat.

• Whatever success I have had or may have could be indirect proportion to my ability not only to instill that idea in my players but also to live up to it myself. Therefore, I continually stress to my players that all I expect from them at practice and in the games is their maximum effort.

• I hope that their actions or conduct following the game will not indicate victory or defeat. Heads should always be high when you have doe your best regardless of the score and there is no reason for being overly jubilant at victory or unduly depressed by defeat.

• I am rather thoroughly convinced that those who have the self-satisfaction of knowing they have done their best will also be on the most desirable end of the score as much, and perhaps more, than their natural ability might indicate.

By John Wooden

A Touch of Lemon

When I met Mr. Jim Lemon, I was a sixteen-year-old freshman at Houston's Jackson Junior High and the chances of my finishing high school were slim. I was a troubled teenager with an attitude, living in a neighborhood that fostered troubled teenagers.

Mr. Lemon taught American history and it was clear from the first day that his classroom was not going to be disrupted. It was apparent, very quickly, that Mr. Lemon was quite different from the other teachers I had known. Not only was he a disciplinarian, but also he was a great teacher. He would never settle for my usual standard of classroom work. Mr. Lemon pushed and prodded and never tolerated the mediocrity that had become my standard.

On the occasion of our first semester report cards, Mr. Lemon called me aside and asked how it was possible that I was a B student in his class and a D and F student in the rest of my classes.

I was ready for that question. I passionately told him about my divorced parents, the local gangs, the drugs, the fights, and the police - all the evils that I had been subjected to. Mr. Lemon listened patiently and when I was through he responded, “There’s a problem with your list Mr. Phillips, you are not on it.”

Then Mr. Lemon explained that the only person responsible for my situation was me. And the only person with the potential to change my situation was me, and that when I personally accepted that responsibility I could make a significant change in my life.

He convinced me that I was failing not because I was a failure, but because I was not accepting the responsibility for my results in those other classes. Mr. Lemon was the first teacher I had who made me believe in myself. He inspired me to become a better student and he changed my life.

Ten years later, I spoke to him again. I was preparing to graduate from Chaminade University in Honolulu.

It had taken weeks of telephone calls to find him but I knew what I had to say. When I finally did get Mr. Lemon on the telephone, I explained what his brutal honesty had meant to me, how I finally graduated from high school, and how I was a proud staff sergeant in the Army. I explained how I had married the most beautiful and wonderful woman of my dreams and how we had a beautiful daughter.

Most of all I wanted him to know that I was about to graduate magna cum laude after going to school for four hours a night, four nights a week for three years. I wanted him to know that I could never have done any of these things if he had not been a part of my life.

Finally, I told him that I had been saving money for two years so that I could invite he and his wife to come to Hawaii at my expense to be part of my graduation. I'll never forget his response. Mr. Lemon said, "Who is this again?"

I was just one of hundreds of students whose life he changed and he seemed genuinely surprised of his impact.

Perhaps none of us realize the impact that we have on other people nor do other people have any idea how much of an impact they have on us. How much, then, should we be aware of our influence on others to make sure that it is for the best? And how much more should we tell those who have had a positive impact on our lives?

By Rick Phillips

The Gift That Lives On

By Elizabeth Ballard

On In our pocket of society where pampered affluence is rampant, we are often at a loss to know what kind of gifts to buy our friends and loved ones on special occasions. For some people (especially those who "have everything") the standard type gift won't cut it. Nothing in the shopping mall catches our fancy.

I have a suggestion. It may not seem that expensive or sound very novel, but believe me, it works every time. It''s one of those gifts that has great value but no price tag. It can't be lost nor will it ever be forgotten. No problem with size either. It fits all shapes, any age, and every personality. This ideal gift is ... yourself. In your quest for character, don't forget the value of unselfishness.

That's right, give some of yourself away.

Give an hour of your time to someone who needs you. Give a note of encouragement to someone who is down. Give a hug of affirmation to someone in your family. Give a visit of mercy to someone who is laid aside. Give a meal you prepared to someone who is sick. Give a word of compassion to someone who just lost a mate. Give a deed of kindness to someone who is slow and easily overlooked. Jesus taught: "... to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me" (Matthew 25:40).

Teddy Stallard certainly qualified as "one of the least." Disinterested in school. Musty, wrinkled clothes; hair never combed. One of those kids in school with a deadpan face, expressionless _ sort of a glassy, unfocused stare. When Miss Thompson spoke to Teddy he always answered in monosyllables. Unattractive, unmotivated, and distant, he was just plain hard to like. Even though his teacher said she loved all in her class the same, down inside she wasn't being completely truthful.

Whenever she marked Teddy's papers, she got a certain perverse pleasure out of putting X's next to the wrong answers and when she put the F's at the top of the papers, she always did it with a flair. She should have known better; she had Teddy's records and she knew more about him than she wanted to admit. The records read:

1st Grade Teddy shows promise with his work and attitude, but poor home situation.
2nd Grade Teddy could do better. Mother is seriously ill. He receives little help at home.
3rd Grade Teddy is a good boy but too serious. He is a slow learner. His mother died this year.
4th Grade Teddy is very slow, but well-behaved. His father shows no interest.

Christmas came and the boys and girls in Miss Thompson's class brought her Christmas presents. They piled their presents on her desk and crowded around to watch her open them. Among the presents there was one from Teddy Stallard. She was surprised that he had brought her a gift, but he had. Teddy's gift was wrapped in brown paper and was held together with Scotch tape. On the paper were written the simple words, "For Miss Thompson from Teddy." When she opened Teddy's present, out fell a gaudy rhinestone bracelet, with half the stones missing, and a bottle of cheap perfume.

The other boys and girls began to giggle and smirk over Teddy's gifts, but Miss Thompson at least had enough sense to silence them by immediately putting on the bracelet and putting some of the perfume on her wrist. Holding her wrist up for the other children to smell, she said, "Doesn't it smell lovely?" And the children, taking their cue form the teacher, readily agreed with "oo's" and "ah's."

At the end of the day, when school was over and the other children had left, Teddy lingered behind. He slowly came over to her desk and said softly, "Miss Thompson... Miss Thompson, you smell just like my mother ... and her bracelet looks real pretty on you, too. I'm glad you liked my presents." When Teddy left, Miss Thompson got down on her knees and asked God to forgive her.

The next day when the children came to school, they were welcomed by a new teacher. Miss Thompson had become a different person. She was no longer just a teacher; she had become an agent of God. She was now a person committed to loving her children and doing things for them that would live on after. She helped all the children, but especially the slow ones, and especially Teddy Stallard. By the end of that school year, Teddy showed dramatic improvement. He had caught up with most of the students and was even ahead of some. She didn't hear from Teddy for a long time. Then one day, she received a note that read:

Dear Miss Thompson:

I wanted you to be the first to know.
I will be graduating second in my class.

Love,
Teddy Stallard

Four years later, another note came:

Dear Miss Thompson:

They just told me I will be graduating first in my class.
I wanted you to be the first to know.
The university has not been easy, but I liked it.

Love,
Teddy Stallard

And four years later:

Dear Miss Thompson:

As of today, I am Theodore Stallard, M.D. How about that?
I wanted you to be the first to know.
I am getting married next month, the 27th to be exact.
I want you to come and sit where my mother would sit if she were alive.
You are the only family I have now; Dad died last year.

Love,
Teddy Stallard

Miss Thompson went to that wedding and sat where Teddy's mother would have sat. She deserved to sit there; she had done something for Teddy that he could never forget.

What can you give as a gift? Instead of giving only something you buy, risk giving something that will live on after you. Be really generous. Give yourself to a Teddy Stallard, "one of the least," whom you can help to become one of the greats.

The Two Choices We Face

by Jim Rohn

Each of us has two distinct choices to make about what we will do with our lives. The first choice we can make is to be less than we have the capacity to be. To earn less. To have less. To read less and think less. To try less and discipline ourselves less. These are the choices that lead to an empty life. These
are the choices that, once made, lead to a life of constant apprehension instead of a life of wondrous anticipation.

And the second choice? To do it all! To become all that we can possibly be. To read every book that we possibly can. To earn as much as we possibly can. To give and share as much as we possibly can. To strive and produce and accomplish as much as we possibly can. All of us have the choice.

To do or not to do. To be or not to be. To be all or to be less or to be nothing at all.

Like the tree, it would be a worthy challenge for us all to stretch upward and outward to the full measure of our capabilities. Why not do all that we can, every moment that we can, the best that we can, for as long as we can?

Our ultimate life objective should be to create as much as our talent and ability and desire will permit. To settle for doing less than we could do is to fail in this worthiest of undertakings.

Results are the best measurement of human progress. Not conversation. Not explanation. Not justification. Results! And if our results are less than our potential suggests that they should be, then we must strive to become more today than we were the day before. The greatest rewards are always reserved for those who bring great value to themselves and the world around them as a result of whom and what they have become.

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

-Rudyard Kipling

Walk the Talk

Commitment – Honesty – Accountability – Respect – Courage – Ethics & Integrity
Words -- Good Words -- Important Words
But they are nothing more than words unless we actually live by them.
Our Greatest Challenge?
To behave according to our beliefs.
To do the right thing, to practice what we preach,
To…Walk the Talk!

What does it take?

Commitment – Fight the temptation to compromise your values and beliefs. It will make you stronger!

Honesty – Build a reputation as someone who tells the truth. It will serve you well!

Accountability – Hold yourself to high standards and continually evaluate the image you see in the mirror. It will build your character!

Respect – Treat others with dignity and make sure your behaviors are respectful. It will make you a person of quality!

Courage – Follow your conscience instead of, “following the crowd.” It will make you heroic!

Ethics and Integrity – Choose rightness over ease and convenience. It will give you pride and…peace!

“I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us…if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice. It will tell us what to do.” -- Christopher Reeve

Believe that walking the talk matters…because it does!
Believe that you can make all the difference…because you can!
You have a choice…start each day with a commitment to do what is right.
Remember…with every sunrise, come new opportunities.
Today you have a clean slate upon which to record your life…and your legacy.
Seek courage to do the right thing.
Decide that this will be a day in which you…

Walk the Talk!

The Cross Room

The young man was at the end of his rope.
Seeing no way out, he dropped to his knees in prayer.
"Lord, I can't go on," he said.
"I have too heavy a cross to bear."
The Lord replied,
"My son, if you can't bear it's weight,
just place your cross inside this room.
Then open another door and pick any cross you wish."
The man was filled with relief.
"Thank you, Lord,"
he sighed, and did as he was told.
As he looked around the room he saw many different crosses;
some so large the tops were not visible.
Then he spotted a tiny cross leaning against a far wall.
"I'd like that one, Lord,"
he whispered. And the Lord replied,
"My son, that's the cross you brought in."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When life problems seem overwhelming, it helps to look around and see what others are having to endure. Then you may see for yourself that you are more fortunate than you realized.

THE EASY AND THE HARD

We all have the same question: Why is life so tough? Well, there’s an answer to that…

By Beverly Heirich

When my husband and I were raising our five children, we taught them everything we knew. Now we know that wasn’t much. If we could do it over, here are some crucial facts about human nature that I would start teaching them before they were old enough to brush their teeth without help.

Bad is easy. Good is hard.
Losing is easy. Winning is hard.
Talking is easy. Listening is hard.
Watching TV is easy. Reading is hard
Giving Advice is easy. Taking advice is hard.
Flab is easy. Muscle is hard.
Stop is easy. Go is hard.
Dirty is easy. Clean is hard.
Take is easy. Give is hard.
Dream is easy. Think is hard.
Lying is easy. Truth is hard.
Sleeping is easy. Waking is hard
Talking about God is easy. Praying to God is hard.
Watching basketball is easy. Playing basketball is hard.
Holding a grudge is easy. Forgiving is hard.
Telling a secret is easy. Keeping a secret is hard.
Play is easy. Work is hard.
Falling is easy. Getting up is hard.
Spending is easy. Saving is hard.
Eating is easy. Dieting is hard.
Doubt is easy. Faith is hard.
Laughter is easy. Tears are hard.
Criticizing is easy. Taking criticism is hard.
Letting go is easy. Hanging on is hard.
Secret sin is easy. Confession is hard.
Pride is easy. Humility is hard.
Excusing oneself is easy. Excusing others is hard.
Borrowing is easy. Paying back is hard.
Sex is easy. Love is hard.
Argument is easy. Negotiation is hard.
Naughty is easy. Nice is hard.
Going along is easy. Walking alone is hard.
Dumb is easy. Smart is hard.
Cowardice is easy. Bravery is hard.
Messy is easy. Neat is hard.
Poor is easy. Rich is hard.
War is easy. Peace is hard.
Sarcasm is easy. Sincerity is hard.
An F is easy. An A is hard.
Growing weeds is easy. Growing flowers is hard.
Reaction is easy. Action is hard.
Can’t do is easy. Can do is hard.
Feasting is easy. Fasting is hard.
Following is easy. Leading is hard.
Having friends is easy. Being a friend is hard.
Dying is easy. Living is hard.

If you ask why all this is so, why is life so hard, I’ll you, “It just is. Nothing in life that is good and worthwhile comes without effort.” We are born, all of us, with a nature hat is drawn to the easy rather than the hard. Surely you’ve noticed that no child ever has to be taught to be naughty; we’re all born knowing how. It’s easy for us. What’s hard is learning to be good. Knowing this about one self and others softens the heart and builds iron into the will, keeps us going when all around is crumbling, when friends forsake, when the heart breaks, and the courage and confidence shatter. Knowing that such experiences are part of the deal gives us opportunities to choose to do hard things. Constant challenges make our journey exhilarating, wonderfully fulfilling, never, never boring. As the Arabs, put it, “All sunshine makes a desert.” And here’s a small secret that most sad and lonely people never learn: Deep down inside we are all asking the same question. No matter who you are, life is hard, and we all ask why is should be so. But there is comfort in knowing we’re not alone. So maybe your child---- or the person sitting over there----needs to hear from you right this minute that sometimes you question, too, but that the One who knows us best and loves us most promises hat for those who choose the hard way, “the dawn gives way to morning splendor while the evil grope and stumble in the dark.” Easy is its own reward. Hard is much finer.

101 WAYS TO COPE WITH STRESS

Get up fifteen minutes earlier – Prepare for the morning the night before-
Avoid relying on chemical aids – Set appointments ahead – Don’t rely on
your memory…write it down – Practice preventative maintenance - Make
duplicate keys – Say ‘no’ more often – Set priorities in your life – Avoid
negative people – Use time wisely – Simplify meal times – Always make
copies of important papers – Anticipate your needs – Repair anything that
doesn’t work properly – Ask for help with jobs you dislike – Break large
tasks into bite size portions – Look at problems as challenges – Look at
challenges differently – Unclutter your life – Smile – Be prepared for rain
- Tickle a baby – Pet a friendly dog/cat – Don’t know all the answers - Look
for the silver lining –Say something nice to someone – Teach a kid to fly a
kite – Walk in the rain – Schedule play time into every day – Take a bubble
bath – Be aware of the decisions you make – Believe in you – Stop saying
negative things to yourself – Visualize yourself winning – Develop your
sense of humor – Stop thinking tomorrow will be a better day – Have goals
for yourself – Dance a jig – Say ‘hello’ to a stranger – Ask a friend for a hug
- Look up at the stars – Practice breathing slowly – Learn to whistle a tune -
Read a poem – Listen to a symphony – Watch a ballet – Read a story curled
up in bed – Do a brand new thing – Stop a bad habit –Buy yourself a flower
- Take stock of your achievements – Find support from others- Ask someone
to be your ‘vent-partner’ – Do it today – Work at being cheerful and
optimistic – Put safety first – Do everything in moderation – Pay attention
to your appearance – Strive for excellence NOT perfection – Stretch your
limits a little each day – Look at a work of art – Hum a jingle – Maintain
your weight – Plant a tree – Feed the birds – Practice grace under pressure
- Stand up and stretch – Always have a plan ‘B’ – Learn a new doodle -
Memorize a joke – Be responsible for your feelings – Learn to meet your own
needs – Become a better listener – Know your limitations and let others know
them too – Tell someone to have a good day in pig latin – Throw a paper
airplane – Exercise every day – Learn the words to a new song – Get to work
early – Clean out one closet – Play patty cake with a toddler – Go on a picnic
- Take a different route to work – Leave work early (with permission) – Put
air freshener in your car – Watch a movie and eat popcorn – Write a note to
a far away friend – Go to a ball game and scream – Cook a meal and eat it by
candlelight – Recognize the importance of unconditional love – Remember
that stress is an attitude – Keep a journal – Practice a monster smile –
Remember you always have options – Have a support network of people,
place and things. Quit trying to ‘fix’ other people – Get enough sleep – Talk
less and listen more – Freely praise other people – PS. Relax, take each day
at a time…you have the rest of your life to live.

The Magic of a Note

Condensed By Dwight Wendell Koppes

“To indicate to another human being that ‘I noticed, I care’ --- in writing--- can bring incomparable rewards.”

The letter came on one of those overcast, slushy March mornings. My bursitic hip was heralding untimely decrepitude, and the shaving mirror had confirmed my general feeling of the blahs. Self- pity had moved into stay for the day---- or would have, except for the letter. It was from a man I had never met: the father of our teen-age son’s best friend.

“Confined to a wheelchair as I am,” the note said, “I can’t share much of young Bob’s life. He lolls me about the things he does with you and your son, what a good sort you are, how lively and young-looking. I am very grateful that he has the friendship of you and your son. Thank you!”

“Keen and young-looking, eh?” My mirror had lied, obviously. The day’s writing developed a definite lilt, and when the boys came home from school I made it a point to shoot a few extra baskets with them, the quiescent bursitis.

Then I drove Bob home, and met his father. We took to each other at once.

A few weeks later, Bob Senior died. After the memorial service, I pondered things that no ordinary day would admit---and quietly the revelation came: If this man, an invalid whose days were numbered, could reach out and touch me, a stranger, and make my gray day brighter, and me more attentive to the interests and needs of others, then surely any man can do the same for someone.

I thanked my departed friend for his example, and went to my study, glowing with what I thought I had discovered. This revelation, I told myself, could become my own “magnificent obsession.” And I would waste no time. I tried to think of someone to whom to send a note of thanks and encouragement and decided on the mechanic who had recently repaired my wife’s car. Soon my typewriter was clattering away.

The next time I visited the garage, I thought the mechanic gave me a peculiar look. Later, my wife said casually that she had given the garage man a piece of her mind for his exorbitant bill, and told him she’d never patronize him again!

What had gone wrong? I went back to my friend’s note, and the circumstances surrounding it. His had been an honest emotion, simply expressed. My note to the mechanic had been calculated, forced and somewhat insincere. Maybe, too, I shouldn’t have written. Wouldn’t a warmspoken word do just as well?

The acid test came soon. A friend named Fred did a beautiful job running our club’s ladies’ night. Afterward, we all told him so. But I had had my turn at the job, and knew how much time and thought it took--- so I put that into a note and thanked Fred, even though the theme by this time seemed outworn.

Not so; emphatically not so. At the next luncheon, Fred put his arm on my shoulder. “Thanks, pal,” he murmured. “Thanks!”

No big thing--- just a little note saying something like, “You did a great job. We owe you a lot. Thanks.” But because I had taken the trouble to put it in writing, it had meant more to both of us.

From time to time, we employ a Mexican gardener whose work I haven’t always been happy with. But, awhile back, I noticed that he had painstakingly replaced and reinforced some foundation plantings that our dogs had knocked over, and had glued together a Mexican urn that had been lying abandoned at a back corner of our house, I wrote him a thank you note.

The next time Ernesto came, he said nothing about the note---until I paid him at the end of the day and he took out a worn wallet to deposit his money. My letter, much the worse for handling and folding, was there in the center clip of the wallet.

“My boy esplain for me,” he said, beaming. “He read for me, many times. Muchas gracias--- I keep!”

That day, he had done his best work since we hired him. Because, observe: he was a fine gardener, and he had a letter to prove it! Now all of us who use his services get better and happier work--- and to myself I seem a thoughtful employer. Two enhanced self-images, two better people---all because of a brief note.

This little miracle happened again last June. A member of our school board had charge of the outdoor commencement exercises. Just as the program began, the loudspeakers conked out, even though they had been carefully tested an hour earlier. Nobody could hear the ceremonies, and some mean things were aid about it. I wrote this school board member a note: “I know how hard you worked on the arrangements---and how much you have done to help our schools. Thank you for that--- and forget the other; it was no fault of yours. We need you.”

His wife came to see us soon afterward. “Several friends spoke to Jim to encourage him,” she said. “But he paid little attention and was all set to resign---until your letter came. Now he’s staying on board.”

He did, and subsequently was elected president. In a way, my little note had done that. What if I hadn’t written it?

And a funny thing: the unexpected note that says, “I noticed, I care,” can never fall fallow, can never be appreciated. This is especially true of those who are unaccustomed to public notice, to applause as a routine thing; the gas station attendant who does extra innings for your car; the school crossing grandfather who guards the children’s safety with such care and good humor; the librarian who goes all out to help you read that special book; he newspaper boy who puts the morning paper just where you like. Which of these would not be charmed and cheered---and confirmed in his good work---by your “thank you” in writing?

The time has come now when my wife can sense a note-prompting happening, and she smiles at me knowingly. She even suggests a note now and then. But she wasn’t prepared to become a recipient.

It occurred to me recently that I ever reach into my dresser drawer without finding clean shirts and socks; that I rarely eat anything she hasn’t selected and cooked; that she never fails to counter my dark moods with humor and devotion. For the first time, I put my appreciation in writing, and actually mailed it. Then, quickly, I wished I hadn’t. How corny can you get?

I needn’t have worried. When the tears of happiness with which she greeted me at the end of the day had been dried, when she had marveled again about “a letter from you when you weren’t even out of town, and the sweet things you said,” we both felt so good that we decided to go out for dinner, see a show and make an event of it.

There it was again, a little bit of magic!

The Magic Letter

By Roger Dean Kiser

Once again, I had run away and really do not know why. I would walk out the gate to go to school and then keep walking, and walking, and walking. I had just turned eleven-years-old the week before. It was almost dark; I was tired, scared, cold, and all alone. I had not eaten all day and was afraid to turn myself into the police. I knew I would receive another beating once I returned to the Children's Home Society in Jacksonville, Florida. There was nothing for me to do, except keep on walking. As darkness fell, I made my way over to the city park located on Park Street. I entered the darkened area and sat down on one of the wooden benches hoping to avoid the police cars. It was cold and I began to shiver uncontrollably. All was quiet except for the passing cars in the distance.

"Well, hello young man." A voice came from behind me. I jumped, almost falling off the park bench. My heart was beating ninety miles per hour, and I could feel it thumping in the side of my neck. I gasp and I could hardly catch my breath. I looked up and saw a woman standing behind me in the shadows.

"You look cold," she said.

"I'm cold. I'm real, real cold." I continued to shiver.

"Here wrap this around you."

I watched as she took off her shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"But ain't you gonna be cold now?"

"I'll be ok."

"Is there anything else you need?” she questioned.

"I sure could use some food."

"Follow me," she said.

I walked with her about twenty feet, then she stopped under one of the park streetlights.

She held out her hand and said, "Here, you take this letter and give it to the store owner."

I looked at her outstretched arm but saw nothing in her hand. "There's nothing in
your hand," I told her.

"Roger, reach out and take the letter from my hand," she replied.

Slowly I reached out, acting as though I was taking something from her hand.

"Now close your thumb and finger and hold the paper tightly," she instructed.

I closed my thumb and finger as though I were grasping the letter.

"Take it to any store owner."

"What do I say to them?"

"Nothing," she replied.

"But what store do I go to?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, as she smiled.

I turned and began walking toward Five Points. Several blocks down the road, I came to a store with a woman sitting behind a counter. I opened the door, walked in, and stopped directly in front of her.

"Can I help you?" asked the woman.

I was hesitant to talk and had no idea what I should say. Very slowly I held out my hand toward her. I watched her face to see if she might think I was crazy or something.

"Is that for me?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am.” I looked down at the floor.

She reached out and as her hand touched mine, I opened my tightly closed fingers and stood there waiting. She pulled back, smiled, and looked down at her hands.

She immediately turned and walked to the back of the store. I began to inch toward the front door for fear she might be calling the police. Just as I made it to the front door, I stopped as I heard someone call my name. I turned around and saw the woman holding a paper plate.

"Roger, here is something for you to eat."

"How did you know my name?" I asked her.

"It was on the paper."

"But there wasn't no paper. I didn't see no paper," I told her.

She smiled and motioned for me to eat by twirling her finger in front of her mouth. Within two or three minutes, I had downed the entire plate of food and several coca colas.

"Are you full?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Then it's time for you to go."

I turned to leave when I felt her hand on my shoulder.

"Here, your paper. You almost forgot your letter," she said, holding out her hand.

Again seeing nothing, I held out my hand and closed my thumb and finger as though I were taking something from her. Tightly grasping nothing more than air, I walked out into the street and headed back to the park. When I arrived, the old woman was sitting on the park bench. "Did you eat?" she asked.

"Yes Ma’am, and I had two coca colas too."

"Good."

"How do you do that magic?" I asked her.

"It’s not magic."

"But how does everyone know my name?"

"It is written in the letter."

"Can I have the letter so I can be magic too?" I asked.

She reached out, took my hand, and opened my tightly closed fingers. Whatever was being held between my fingers, she took and placed into her apron pocket. "Would you help someone if they were hungry?" she asked me.

"Yes Ma'am.

"Would you help someone if they were hurt, cold or scared?"

"Yes Ma'am. I would be their friend."

"Roger, you are a very lucky little boy. You will never need the magic letter," she responded.

She stood up, kissed me on the forehead, removed the shawl from my shoulders, and began walking down the sidewalk. I watched as she disappeared into the darkness.

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking

Written by a former child

A message every adult should read, because children are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator and I immediately wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer, and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and I learned to trust in God.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care of each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted to say, 'Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.'

Each of us (parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, teacher or friend) influences the life of a child. How will you touch the life of someone today?

Don Meyer Evening of Excellence Video

4 QUESTIONS TO PONDER

1. WHY?
a. When “why” gets powerful, the “how” gets easy.
b. Why=Reasons

2. WHY NOT?
a. What else do you have to do?
b. Why not see all you can see, do all you can do?
c. Why not engage in as many things as you can?

3. WHY NOT ME?
a. If ____ can do it, anyone can.
b. Change. Set up some simple daily disciplines.
c. Take full responsibility.
d. Don’t settle for less.

4. ASK FOR GOD’S HELP

Pledge Story

THE BEST ADVICE I COULD GIVE

Take it all in. Let it all out.

Always remember. Never forget.

Grow older. Stay young at heart.

Remember me. Stay true to yourself.

Be an individual. Stick with your friends.

Have no regrets. Learn from your mistakes.

Laugh. Cry.

Strive for the best. Share the spotlight.

Be confident. Admit when you're wrong.

Give yourself more credit. Take the blame.

Think for yourself. Think twice.

Love more. Hate less.

Miss it lots. Move on.

Be prepared. Be spontaneous.

Improve yourself. Never change.

I'll always be here. Things won't always be the same.

Don't miss it by blinking. Close your eyes and breathe it in.

Be strong. Ask for help.

Reach the top. Don't fall.

Believe in miracles. Don't depend on them.

Live for today. Look toward tomorrow.

The Road Of Life

At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn't KNOW Him.

But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed Christ was in the back helping me pedal.

I don't know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since. When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable. . . It was the shortest distance between two points.

But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, "Pedal!"

I worried and was anxious and asked, "Where are you taking me?" He laughed and didn't answer, and I started to learn trust.

I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I'd say, "I'm scared," He'd lean back and touch my hand.

He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance and joy. They gave me gifts to take on my journey, my Lord's and mine.

And we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away; they're extra baggage, too much weight." So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.

I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He'd wreck it; but He knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages.

And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I'm beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, Jesus Christ.

And when I'm sure I just can't do anymore, He just smiles and says. . . "Pedal."

Lying Is Like Drunk Driving

By Michael Josephson

Sometimes lying makes our lives easier. If you want the day off, just call in sick. If your boss asks if you’ve finished a report, say you left it at home. And if an irate customer calls, just make up a good cover story. Technically these are lies, but since no one’s hurt, what’s the big deal?

We tell ourselves they’re harmless, but are they really? Telling lies is like drunk driving. If we’re lucky, we won’t get caught and no one will get hurt. Still, drunk driving is wrong because it’s irresponsible to recklessly endanger human life. Most lies are wrong because they recklessly endanger human relationships. What’s more, lies are habit-forming. The more lies we tell, the easier it becomes, so we tell more lies.

Self-serving lies that help us get out of a jam or look better are like land mines. They may lie dormant, but sooner or later some will explode, damaging both our credibility and reputation. The ethical duty to be worthy of trust does not bend to our needs, convenience, or desire to avoid unpleasant consequences. Besides being dishonest, lying is disrespectful because it deprives the victim of true information needed to make sensible decisions.

Lies damage personal and business relationships because they generate suspicion and distrust. Once lied to, most people think, “What else will he lie to me about?” This is not a healthy basis for any relationship.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

When I Became a Man

The Packed Car

By Ramona Scarborough, Salem, Oregon

My family was driving across Canada to Montreal where my husband, Ray, and I were going to be helping out a new church there. Ray had gotten a head start with our daughter in a rental truck stuffed with our belongings. I took my two-year-old, John, in our family car, a hardtop convertible jam-packed from floor to ceiling with piles of books to use in our work. They hadn’t been able to fit in the truck.

We crossed into Ontario, driving along a narrow two-lane road. A heavy rain fell. Suddenly a truck veered into our lane. I turned the wheel sharply. The brakes screamed. Our tires hit the gravel on the shoulder. We went spinning off the road. We’re going to die, I thought as the car flipped and rolled into a deep ditch.

Coming to my senses, I heard a man’s voice from somewhere outside my car. “There’s nobody alive in there.” Everything was hazy; fine pieces of glass covered me from head to toe. The metal frame of our vehicle pressed tight against my back. I could barely breathe. John! Panicked, I reached behind me.

“Are you all right, honey?”

“Yes, Mama.”

I craned my neck toward the window. “We’re alive,” I cried. “My little boy and I. Please help us!” A man reached through a shattered window and pulled John out. A few others pried the metal frame away enough for me to escape. Except for some minor scrapes, cuts and bruises, we were okay.

A kind policeman escorted us as we rode in an ambulance to the hospital. He offered to take us to the impound lot to retrieve our belongings when we were ready.

Four days later we went to the lot. The insurance agent who accompanied us gasped when he saw the wreck. So did I. The policeman looked baffled.

“These hardtop convertibles don’t have a window post to keep the roof up if they flip,” he said.

“Then why weren’t we…” My voice trailed off.

Our eyes turned toward the back seat. The roof had stayed up just enough so we weren’t crushed, supported by an amazing brace. Piled from the floor to the ceiling were the books that hadn’t fit in our rental truck.

Our Bibles.

Dick Bennett's Five Biblical Principles

1. HUMILITY

Know and be who you are, not what others think you are.
Know the shots you can make and shots you can take.
Know the ability you really have.
Don't let the pressures of the game take you out of your idenity.

2. PASSION

Don't be lukewarm.
Don't try to be cool.
Die Hard...Take losses hard.
It's about concentration.
Lack of passion will keep you from being great.

3. UNITY

Tough team. Team tough.
Unity is the only way you can touch greatness.
The way normal people become great is through unity.

4. SERVANT ATTITUDE

Serve one another.
It is the basis of everything we do.
Go out of your way - on and off the court - to make your teammates better.
Get every charge, every loose ball, every rebound, every save.
Help the helper on defense.
Help get each other open.
Hit the open man on offense.

5. THANKFULNESS

Acknowledge any help from a teammate.
If you can be thankful in all circumstances, it can bring great wisdom.
Take something positive from every situation.

~DEATH~ WHAT A WONDERFUL WAY TO EXPLAIN IT

A sick man turned to his doctor as he was
preparing to leave the examination room and said,
"Doctor, I am afraid to die.
Tell me what lies on the other side."
Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know."
"You don't know? You're, a Christian man, and don't know
what's on the other side?"
The doctor was holding the handle of the door; On the other
side came a sound of scratching and whining,
and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and
leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.
Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my
dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what
was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here,
And when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.
I know little of what is on the other side of death,
but I do know one thing...
I know my Master is there and that is enough."

Winners Or Losers

I believe there's an inner power that makes winners or losers. And the winners are the ones who really listen to the truth of their hearts. - Sylvester Stallone

A Refiner of Silver

Malachi 3:3 says: 'He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.'

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining Silver.

As she watched the silversmith, 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 says: 'He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.' She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time.

The man answered 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 a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, '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.'

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has his eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.

*******

This very moment, someone needs to know that God is watching over them, and, whatever they're going through, they'll be a better person in the end.

'Life is like a coin. You can spend it anyway you wish, but you can only spend it once.'

Thank you God, for teaching me to laugh again, but please Lord, don't ever let me forget that I cried.